Klutzy Love

Klutzy Love

Sharon Kleve

Klutzy Love

A Books to Go Now Publication

Copyright
©
Sharon Kleve
2012

Books to Go Now

For information on the cover illustration and design, contact [email protected]

First eBook Edition –August 2012

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

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CHAPTER ONE

Kitty Skinner and Brenda Howser have been my best friends in the world ever since grade school. They grew up next door to each other. My family’s duplex was two blocks away. One day on the playground we put a stop to Harry Hamilton II’s obsession with looking up all the girls’ skirts, while they swung on the jungle jim. Brenda hit him in the nose with her Barbie and I kicked him in the knee while he was down. Kitty giggled when he cried. The incident bonded our friendship for life.

Now, in our early thirties we get together every other Friday night for happy hour at Chico’s in downtown Seattle. The only valid excuse for a no-show is a new boyfriend or lover.

My name is Corny Myers and with my shoulders back and my stomach sucked in I am five-feet-eight inches tall and weigh about one hundred and twenty five pounds. A monster hot dog and a side of deep-fried cheese curds can put me above that in a heartbeat.

Tonight we’re not at Chico’s for the margaritas, but to mourn the death of my boss. I’d happily been Mr. Langfield’s executive assistant at Langfield Laboratories since college graduation. Unfortunately, he married a much younger woman and paid for his mistake with his life—he croaked while he bungee jumped on his honeymoon. Why he agreed to be tied to a big rubber band was beyond me. His son Ralph inherited the company and had unwillingly become my new boss.

I raised my salty-rimmed margarita, “Let’s make a toast to Mr. Langfield; he was kind, kooky, and had poor taste in women.”

“Here, here. God bless the silly romantic fool,” Kitty cheered and twirled her hair around her finger.

“I second that,” Brenda clinked her glass to ours and munched on chips and salsa.

After a sip from my drink my sexy-guy radar started to beep. I did a quick scan of the restaurant and spotted my target. I discreetly waved my hand above my head and said, “Target acquired... target acquired.” We laughed until we about peed our pants and then I leaned forward and quietly asked, “Do you think he heard me?” then giggled more. “I’ve seen my share of gorgeous men, but that guy is smok’n hot.”

“Oh boy, is he ever,” Kitty and Brenda said in unison and fanned their faces dramatically.

“He’s been looking my way. I’m giving him my, ‘
you can buy me a drink’
look.”

All of a sudden Kitty rolled her eyes toward the bar and whispered, “Holy moly, he’s coming this way.”

Sure enough he made his way through the crowd on the dance floor towards our table. Before I hyperventilated from excitement, Kitty kicked me in the shin. “Thanks, I needed that.” Kitty could be pretty levelheaded in stressful situations.

The stranger walked up to our table and offered his hand to me, while a romantic song played in the background. Of course, I accepted and he led me onto the dance floor. We wrapped our arms around each other and I tried to sway to the music. Unfortunately for my dance partner I‘d never been called ‘graceful.’ I accidently stepped on his foot and he grunted, but never missed a beat as he glided me around the dance floor. I looked up into his sexy eyes and bumped noses with him. He didn’t grunt, but his eyes watered.

I got a whiff of an incredible scent. Yum, he smelled like the outdoors—how wonderful. I carefully looked into his eyes, this time avoiding his nose and said, “You smell like pine cones and they remind me of the holidays. You would make a great early Christmas present.” His eyes dilated and he pulled me off the dance floor and headed towards the table I shared with my friends. He grabbed my purse and coat out of Kitty’s outstretched hand and said, “Thank you,” while he continued to lead me towards the door.

I heard both Kitty and Brenda reply, “You’re welcome.” We stepped out into the crisp Seattle winter night where the sky shone with millions of brilliant stars. He helped me into my coat and handed me my purse. We walked hand-in-hand, to his Ducati Monster 1000 motorcycle. I gasped and did a double-take.

“Is this yours? My older brother bought a motorcycle after I told him he could get more chicks if he rode one, and he believed me, go figure. Hey, my name’s Corny, what’s yours?”

Steve never turned away from a challenge, he met them head-on. One had to be aggressive, tough, and focused to be a Seattle narcotics cop. It had been one of those days that went on forever. His team busted three houses full of every kind of narcotic imaginable. All he could think about was a beer and a quick bite to eat. A green chili enchilada from Chico’s sounded like the ticket and was conveniently on his way home.

He planned to eat, go home, and head straight to bed. Now, it looked as though he might have a partner for the latter part of his plan. The hot redhead who sat in the corner booth changed his plans. She and her friends entertained him with their antics for the last half hour.

The redhead tried to get his attention with quick glances in his direction, but her friends stared straight at him. His strategy was to quickly seduce her with a slow dance, boink her brains out then get some much needed sleep. The jukebox still had Teddy Pendergrass’s, ‘Turn off The Lights,’ which seemed like a good start. He’d made his way through the crowd, over to her table. She looked him in the eye and smiled the sexiest smile; it knocked him off his feet.

Steve was sweet, considerate, and a little bit wild and that was only part of the reason why I woke up in his wonderful king-size bed after a night of pure unadulterated bliss. The others were: he rode a hot motorcycle, smelled like Christmas, and was thorough—he hadn’t missed an inch of my body. But when I woke to the bright morning sunlight, I realized that beyond the initial introductions, we had barely talked the night before.

I hoped for a more subtle wake-up call, like a gentle kiss to my lips. But the indentation in the bed next to me was cold. I couldn’t hear any movement in the house. Should I get up and get dressed or stay all snuggled in his bed? I continued to toss and turn. Okay, sleep was out of the question.

I wasn’t prepared for a sleepover, which meant I had no toothbrush or cosmetics to create the illusion of a morning glow. I got dressed and scrounged around in Steve’s bathroom where I found a tube of toothpaste, shaving cream, and a disposable razor, but not much else.

If Steve didn’t want me to snoop around his house, then he shouldn’t have left me alone. There wasn’t one personal item in his sparsely furnished house; not a picture of his bike or even his mom for that matter. There were two cheap lamps with seventies-style lampshades, a worn paisley-colored sofa, and a couple of end tables decorating his living room. After further inspection, I found clothes in his closet, but hardly enough to call a wardrobe.

My vivid imagination ran rampant. I started to get worried about my choice of a bedmate. Geez, what if Steve was a serial killer? He could have felt he needed additional serial killer tools, like a chainsaw or a big-toothed hacksaw? I was not a petite girl; he might have felt as though he needed a spare blade or extra strength garbage bags for my pieces and parts. I checked under the kitchen sink. I wasn’t paranoid; just prudent. Oh crap, there were already several boxes of extra strength black garage bags under the sink.

Ted Bundy was handsome and battered his victims to death with a baseball bat, then performed ghoulish rituals on them. Steve was handsome and charmed the pants off me. I got a creepy sensation in the pit of my stomach. I dialed Kitty as I ran out the front door of Steve’s house as fast as my long legs could carry me. I hadn’t bothered to shut the door. I figured there wasn’t much to steal. Luckily, I was already dressed because I wouldn’t have stopped to put my clothes on and would’ve streaked across the lawn. When I got dressed I couldn’t find my favorite sparkly pink thong and I figured it would turn up in one of the other rooms, but it hadn’t. Maybe Steve was a panty stealer, along with a serial killer.

Kitty answered on the second ring, “Hello?”

I screamed into the phone, “Come pick me up now.”

“Where are you?” Kitty yelled back.

I looked around and found a street sign and gave her the information. She said in a calmer voice, “I’ll be there in ten minutes… hang on.”

Along with the address, I also told her the exact location where she could find me, “I’m behind the dead rhododendron bush in the front yard of the tan and cream Tudor-style house.”

When Kitty arrived, her hands shook. “Cripes Corny, we’re going to have nightmares for weeks.”

“I know, I know.”

Kitty dropped me off at my car and waited until I was safely locked inside and the engine started before she sped away.

When Steve arrived home to an open front door, he realized he’d made a big mistake when he left Corny alone in his bed. He searched the house for signs of where she might have gone. When he’d woken before her, he’d thought it would be nice to make breakfast, but the only food he could cook was scrambled eggs and toast. He thought he’d speed to the Quickie Mart and be back before she woke, but he was obviously wrong.

He’d moved temporarily into his brother’s vacant rental while his own apartment was fumigated for termites. In the light of day, the house looked pretty rundown and unwelcome. Maybe that put her off. Crap, he didn’t even know her last name or phone number.

CHAPTER TWO

I dreamed of Steve’s caresses—with a hatchet. I didn’t want for him to be a bad guy. I spent the weekend curled up on the couch with my neighbor’s cat Snickers. She always seemed to know when I had guy troubles and would comfort me. Sex with a possible serial killer definitely fell in the category of guy troubles. “Snickers, Steve was incredibly sexy and irresistible. I’m not a slut, I promise. I don’t usually go home with men I don’t know. But, there was something different about him. I hope it isn’t that he’s a killer.”

“Purr, yeah, that’s the spot.”

“That feels good, huh?”

“You know it. But what am I going to do with you? It sure seems easier to be a cat then a human, that’s for sure. If I don’t like the way a male cat is sniffing my butt I rear back and swat or hiss. Your relationships are way more complicated. I have a feeling this will be a long weekend. You should go out and buy more tuna fish; you only have two cans left.”

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t born with psychic skills. Understanding animals isn’t always comforting. And I don’t want to go out; what if I run into Steve? I wouldn’t know what to say. To be on the safe side I better have Kitty bring over a few cans.”

“Cluck, cluck... “

“Are you implying I’m a chicken? You do know, you sound ridiculous, right? You’re a cat, imitating a chicken.”

“Yeah, but you’re a human, seeking advice on your love life from a cat.”

“You got me there.”

***

Monday morning I contemplated what my first day with my new boss Ralph would be like. I had met Mr. Langfield’s son last year and he had instantly disliked me. Maybe he felt different now.

Ralph showed up to work at noon and walked into his dad’s office, then quickly turned right around and left again—without a word to me. I would like to think he was heartbroken over his dad’s death and that’s why he left, but I don’t think that’s the reason. I got ready to leave for the day when Ralph phoned and said, “Hey, I’m taking the rest of the week off to mourn my dad,” then rudely hung up. But not before I heard drunken laughter in the background.

I’d have my work cut out for me if Ralph continued his drunken behavior. The success of Langfield Laboratories rested on Ralph’s shoulders now. The week passed without incident and I looked forward to a quiet weekend.

***

Sunday night, my cousin Kari called. “Hey Corny, can you take care of my pet ferret while I’m on my two week
romantic
honeymoon in the Caribbean?” Geez, rub it in would ya. “My pet sitter has shingles and wants to vegetate until the pain goes away. You’ll like Pete. He’s funny and playful, plus you’re the only other person I’d trust with him.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of him, but you owe me big time for this. When are you dropping him off?”

“Well, I’m actually a block away; I thought I’d surprise you. I knew you couldn’t resist my little Pete if you saw him in person,” Kari replied hopefully.

“Did you bring me a cupcake? You always bring me a cupcake for doing you a favor and I do a lot of favors for you.”

“Yes I know, but we’re family. I promise I’ll pay you back someday. To show you how much I appreciate you, I have an extra-special double chocolate cupcake with multicolored sprinkles on it—your favorite.”

“I’m a sucker for sprinkles, come on up.” Kari had my number big time.

“Here’s Pete. Isn’t he cute? He’s sweet, but a little rambunctious at times. Make sure to give him a lot of exercise and you should be fine.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me about him? Ferrets are usually pretty easy to take care of.”

“No, he’s a cutie pie. Look at that sweet face.” Kari looked nervous. “Gotta go now. Ken’s waiting in the car. Thank you again.” She almost ran out the front door.

“Hi there Pete, how’s it hanging?”

“Like a donkey.”

“Oh crap, what had I gotten myself into this time?”

CHAPTER THREE

“Hey, wake up Corny—you’re snoring like a freight train.”

Corny replied groggily, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go away. My alarm hasn’t gone off yet.”

“Get up; I can’t take your blasted snoring any longer.”

“Hey, where are you going? Get out of my bed.”

“This calls for desperate measures; a nip from my razor sharp teeth will get you moving.”

“Pete, if you bite my toes you’ll be living in your cage until Kari gets back. You know, it truly baffles me why I always agree to babysit other people’s pets.”

‘You know, when Kari said I’d be staying with her cousin; she never mentioned you could understand me.”

“Kari doesn’t know about my psychic skills, because they aren’t acknowledged by my family. They know they exist, but they would prefer I didn’t discuss them.”

“That sucks. What, were you dropped as a kid? Is that why you hear voices in your head?”

“Geez no, I inherited my psychic skill from my Great Aunt Harriet.”

“Well, can you make any money from this psychic thing?”

“You’re a greedy bastard, but no—at least not yet. But I have plans to use my unique little skill in the near future.”

“And when did this little gift rear its ugly head?”

“I was twelve when I started hearing animal’s conversations and thirteen when I learned they could hear me back. When I realized what I could do, I did all kinds of crazy things.”

“I suppose I’m going to hear all about your exploits. I gotta eat, drink, and use my litter box before we go to work. Talk fast.”

“Pete, you’re not going to work with me.”

“I know Kari told you I can be destructive if I’m not entertained regularly. I would hate for something to happen to your couch… “

“You’re a little weasel, you know that? Okay, you can come to work with me, but you’ll have to stay hidden.”

“Go get a cup of coffee and spill the beans about all your young exploits, ha ha. I crack myself up.”

“I can tell this is going to be a long two weeks.”

“Hey, I’m lots of fun—you wait and see.”

“Well, it started during my ‘Lu Lu the Clown’ 12
th
birthday party—my parents were into theme parties. Lu Lu blew up balloons into silly but cute animal shapes. We were giggling and running around like little banshees and all of a sudden I could hear the birds, chipmunks, and the neighbor’s dog talking
.
It was fun until I told my mom and she turned to my dad and said, “Oh honey, she’s got the family curse.” After the kids went home my parents told me to ignore the animal voices, but I couldn’t. I guess I didn’t want to.”

“Aw, you’re a rebel at heart. I like that. You said you did all kinds of crazy things. Tell me about them.”

“Let me get ready for work and I’ll tell you on the way.”

“Listen, I get car sick. It’s best if you leave me out of my cage.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. Go get any toys you want to play with and I’ll gather your food. We need to get a move on it or I’ll be late.”

“Geez, I’m a ferret. It’s not like I need to shower or put makeup on, like you do.”

“Okay Pete, I’ll leave you out of your cage. Are you sure you’re not going to end up squished on my windshield if I stop in a hurry?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. This is the smallest car I’ve ever been in… what is this thing?”

“This ‘
thing’
is a red-hot, turbo-charged Mini Cooper. I saved two years to get this exact model. Hang on, it’s got zip.”

“Woo hoo. You’re like a NASCAR driver.”

“Stop kissing up. Do you want to hear about my young exploits or not?”

“Yes please, spill your guts to Uncle Petie.”

“Well, soon after my parents told me to ignore animals speaking to me
—
like I could help it. I started listening to the neighbor’s conversations through our thin duplex walls. One day I heard them consoling their son Timmy. I put my ear up to a cup and held it to the wall. Timmy was freaking out because his pet hamster Fred had disappeared. I liked Fred; he had a quirky personality and was fun to talk to. I knew I had to find him. My twelve-year-old brain was in overdrive trying to ‘be the hamster.’ You know, get inside its head to know where he might be. My young mind thought: did he have family or friends nearby? If he did, how would I find out—was there a pet directory somewhere?”