Oz - A Short Story

"A confession?  I haven't read much
lately that puts a smile on my face.  This story did just
that.  in fact, I'm still smiling...  I can't put my
finger on exactly what enchanted me so much about this story, but
enchanted I was... if you're looking for a wonderful (albeit short)
read, I highly recommend "Oz".  The Long and Short of it
Reviews

"You captured Geoff and his
Aussie ways perfectly. The kind of hero, who sees a woman he
connects with, and goes for broke, but in a gentle, sincere way. I
loved the words and feelings you gave Geoff, to make
Glenda feel that she would regret not giving him a go ...
brilliant writing.
"  Lucy Forster
(from OZ)

"I just finished reading OZ,
and I loved it. The voice is fabulous and the sexual tension
sublime. I didn't want the story to end."
~
Monica Burns, multi-published author

Long and Short of it Reveiws

Oz
Copyright 2006
Ann
Warner

Smashwords Edition
Previously published by: Wild Rose Press 2007

Cover Art - Ann Warner

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents
are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously.

Published in the United States of America

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other
people. If you would like to share this book with another person,
please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re
reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased
for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and
purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of
this author.

Table of Contents

The End

About the
Author

“You’re too nice for your own good,” her
sister said when Glenda told her she was going to the wedding with
Steven. “He’ll find someone to talk to. I heard two-hundred guests.
You’re the one who won’t know anybody. Besides, when it’s over,
it’s over.”

All true. But when she told Steven she
wasn’t going to see him anymore, and he realized that meant no date
for the wedding, he’d been so upset, she hadn’t had the heart to go
through with it. He’d begged and she’d caved.

So here she was, with Steven walking toward
her carrying two flutes of champagne. It was too bad, really. He
was actually quite handsome, not to mention reasonably intelligent,
and charming when he wanted to be. But, as far as she could tell,
his passion was all reserved for his favorite sports teams.

“Another bachelor bites the dust.” Steven
handed her one of the flutes and took a sip as he examined her.
“You’re looking good this evening.”

She blinked in surprise. It wasn’t just that
the mint-green camisole and peacock blue skirt she was wearing were
considerably less expensive than the other gowns; it was the
colors. Steven had failed to mention this was a black tie and
pastel event. She was as out of place as a parrot in a flock of
flamingoes.

Steven’s attention to her appearance was
short-lived. He drank his champagne and scanned the room. Then he
touched her arm saying he’d spotted someone he wanted to talk
to.

She allowed herself to be led through the
crowd toward, it turned out, the best man. She’d already noticed
him during the ceremony and decided his relaxed, humorous
expression made him considerably more appealing than the
classically handsome groom with his deer-in-the-headlights
stare.

“Flemmie, good to see you again.” Steven
flourished his almost empty flute in Glenda’s general direction.
“Meet Glennie.” That was Steven for you - hated being called
Stevie, but if he were introduced to the Pope, he’d call him
Bennie. She’d found it amusing at first, but anymore it grated on
her. It was a relief to know that after tonight it would no longer
be an issue. The man Steven had introduced took Glenda’s hand.
“It’s Geoff Flemington, actually. How’re you going?”

“Glenda Lewellen.” And she wished she were
going home. Soon. By any means possible. Is that what he meant?

“Flemmie’s an Aussie,” Steven said.

Well, that explained the accent and the odd
greeting.

She examined Geoff Flemington as he and
Steven chatted. Though shorter and more compact than Steven, he
gave an impression of quiet strength and commanding ease that
Steven lacked. But the intelligent look in his eyes was his most
attractive feature.

“So how’re the Maggies doing this year?”
Steven asked.

“You mean the Pies?” Geoff said. “They
compete for the Premiership in a week.”

“Pies? Premiership?” she looked from one man
to the other. “You aren’t talking about a culinary competition,
right?”

Geoff grinned at her. “Pies, short for
Magpies. Australian football, love. Premiership is like your Super
Bowl.”

Well, of course. It had to be sports if
Steven was interested. Never date a man you meet at a ball game
unless you’re willing to change your life’s focus to ... well,
balls.

“Flemmie used to play for the Ma...Pies,”
Steven said. “Now there’s a game for you. No protective gear, no
time-outs. Just flat-out, non-stop action.”

It sounded appalling. She glanced away, no
longer interested in the conversation, or either man.

“So what’re you doing with yourself these
days, Flemmie?” Steven said.

“Genetic research.”

Glenda blinked in surprise, turned back to
look at Geoff Flemington, and struggled to readjust her thinking.
Football and genetics, now there was a combination for the
ages.

“How about that,” Steven said. “Glennie does
research, too.” Geoff gave her a questioning look.

Finally, a topic other than sports.
“Biochemistry,” she said. “I’m studying the metabolism of”

“Geoff, they want us for more pictures.” The
speaker was the blonde bridesmaid, the one cute as a bug’s ear. She
laid a proprietary hand on Geoff’s arm and gave Glenda a smug
glance.

“You’ll excuse me.” Geoff nodded to them
before leaving with the bridesmaid.

Glenda watched the two walk away, feeling
like a child who had started playing with a toy only to have it
snatched away by another child. She wanted to stamp her foot in
frustration, but she’d known when she agreed to come it was going
to be a dull evening. Sighing in resignation, she looked at Steven
to find he was watching Geoff walk away with as much regret as she
was.

“Rotten luck he had that accident. On track
to be one of the best players the Pies ever had.” Steven finished
his champagne and exchanged his empty flute for a full one from a
passing tray. Glenda wondered if the accident was the reason Geoff
Flemington walked with a limp. “So how did the two of you meet?”
She took a sip of her own champagne. It was light and crisp,
obviously expensive, and the bubbles tickled her lips, but it was
still inadequate compensation for a lost evening.

“We were apartment mates at the University
of Chicago. I thought he went back to Australia.” Steven shrugged
before finishing off his second glass of champagne. “Couldn’t have
though. Way too far to come for a wedding.”

By the time dinner had been cleared and the
cake cut, Steven was slurring his words and talking to anyone who
would listen about the lousy refereeing at the last Bears’ game,
and Glenda was suffering the full effects of her sister’s parting
prediction on the subject of her attending the wedding with Steven.
“No good deed goes unpunished.”

Well, she’d been punished enough. Further,
she’d more than fulfilled her role as date-for-the-wedding. Likely
Steven wouldn’t even notice she was gone.

She slipped out of the ballroom into the
hall to find it was deserted except for Geoff Flemington, who was
pacing and talking on his phone. As she approached the coat check,
he ended the call, snapped the phone shut, and smiled at her. “Are
you willing to take a word of advice from a bloke who has nothing
to gain from giving it?”

Intrigued, she nodded.

“Give Steven a pass.”

She cocked her head. “You mean forgive him
for the way he’s acting this evening? Or dump him?”

He grinned. “Isn’t English brilliant?” His
expression turned serious. “The latter.”

“A done deal, actually.” And given Steven’s
behavior, it was both a relief to say it and a relief to know it
was true.

“In that case, would you like to dance?”

He had to be joking. Maybe he was making fun
of her. There was certainly a glint in his eyes.

“What about your date?”

He shook his head, smiling. “The best woman,
as you may have noticed, has a husband and incipient child and is
in no need of my escort services.”

Incipient child, indeed. Glenda smiled. The
poor woman looked like she could give birth at any moment. “What
about her?” She nodded toward the blonde bridesmaid who had stuck
her head out the door, and seeing Glenda with Geoff, was morphing
from cute to petulant.

Geoff glanced over his shoulder, turned back
to Glenda, and held out his hand. “Glenda Lewellen. A fellow
scientist needs you. Please. You will save me, won’t you?”

His sincerity and desperation were obvious.
But it was the fact he had remembered her name, although he did
pronounce it oddly, that made her place her hand in his. Besides,
one dance wouldn’t hurt. It would delay her departure by only five
minutes. She could manage another five minutes.

He led her back to the ballroom and took her
in his arms. “Lucky they’re playing something slow.”

Glenda wondered if he was referring to his
limp or to his dancing ability, then decided, as he guided her
around the floor, the limp didn’t seem to hinder his dancing at
all.

She liked to dance, especially with a
partner as competent as this man. She liked his voice as well,
especially the way he pronounced her name—Glynda. Making it sound
more musical than Glenda.

She leaned back slightly to look at him. “So
how did a jock end up in genetics?”

“I’m more interested in how a beautiful
woman ended up in biochemistry.”

It was just a line. And she was not falling
for it. “I asked first.”

He nodded in peaceful agreement. “A few
years ago I had a car smash. It forced me to rethink my life, and I
decided to have a go at university.”

“Your limp. Is it because of the
accident?”

“Yeah. Lost my right foot.”

Surprised, she mis-stepped. His hand pulled
her gently but firmly back into position.

“It gives a whole new meaning to that saying
about dancing as if you have two left feet.” She bit her lip.
Sometimes she let her sense of the absurd get away from her. “Not
that you do,” she added, looking to see how he’d taken it.

He grinned a slow, lazy, wonderful grin that
made her heart do an odd little flip.

He pulled her closer to maneuver around
another couple. His cheek brushed hers, smooth and soft, smelling
of soap and aftershave—something light and pleasant like a pine
forest on a warm day.

“Your turn, Glenda Lewellen.”

She tried to boil it down like he had. “I
had a bad case of ugly duckling syndrome, so books were my best
friends. I loved school. So much, I couldn’t stop going.”

“And the ugly duckling grew into a colorful
swan.”

He had to be commenting on her outfit. She
felt the quick surge of heat that meant she was blushing. “Steven
forgot to mention it was a pastel wedding.”

He grinned at her. “You make the rest look
drab.”

“They seem to be coping with it well.” She
tried to sound nonchalant, but it was becoming increasingly
difficult. The longer they danced, the more she was enjoying it.
And him. Time to bring everything back to earth. “So, why did you
pick genetics?”

He shrugged. “Well it started as a lark.
Some of my mates bet me I couldn’t hack science. I had to show
them, didn’t I?” He gave her a self-deprecating grin. “In the
process I got hooked by the idea of knowing exactly who I am down
to the last base pair.”

“So is that what you’re working on? Human
genes?”

“Actually, our group is studying
stomatolites. They’re the first life-form on the planet—responsible
for starting everything off by releasing oxygen into the
prehistoric atmosphere.”

Glenda blinked in surprise. “So how do you
get the DNA to study?”

“Oh, the little bugger’s still alive and
kicking. Looks like a rock. Likely why it was overlooked for so
long.”