QUEENIE BABY: On Assignment (11 page)

He walked over to me and handed me a quill and ink written paragraph. “I think that should do it,” he said self-assuredly.

I looked at the paper. Incredible. I think he was actually going to get some responses with this. “You’re rich?” I asked looking up from the paper.
 

“Filthy,” he replied tapping his fingers on the desktop.

“You know,” I cautioned, “you are going to get a bunch of gold-digging wackos by saying you’re rich and looking for a soul mate.”

“That’s where you come in, Diana,” he said. “To separate the wheat from the chaff.” Wonderful, now I was his wingman. This is not going to be pretty, I thought grimly.

We finished up with the profiles around one-thirty. I begged off another vegan lunch by saying I had errands to run. He was eager to see if anyone had responded to his profiles and wanted to spend some time ‘perusing the lovelies’ after lunch. I promised to be back by two o’clock.

I called Carol as I walked down to the coffee shop. “You’re never going to believe what happened at the office this morning,” I began.

“Some prick named David staged a coup and is claiming to be the owner?” she asked.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Pete, the janitor, saw the closed sign and called me on my cell. I gave him permission to go in with his keys. I got to listen to him get told off by this David character who said, ‘Carol doesn’t work here anymore’ and slammed the door in his face.”

“I’m so sorry Carol,” I said. I filled her in on the rest of the details. “Mark’s coming over tonight, so hopefully I’ll have more answers for you tomorrow. It would help if you were there too. How’s your back?”

She groaned a little. “Better. God, what a mess this is. I really want to be there. I’ll see how I am later.”

“I’m so sorry all this has happened Carol,” I said. “We’ll figure this out.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” she replied wearily. My phone beeped with another incoming call.

“I’ve got another call coming in. Call me later and let me know if you can make it,” I said, and flipped over to the other call.

I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

Silence. “Hello?” I said again.

“Diana?” said a familiar voice.

Oh, no! Not what I needed right now. “Hi Rick,” I said with some annoyance.

“Don’t sound so thrilled,” he said testily.

“Oh, sorry. I should have said, ‘Thanks for the hickey, you jerk!’” Just thinking about Mark seeing my neck made me crazy.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize I was giving you a hickey when you were jumping my bones in your sister’s van.”

“News flash! We’re not in high school. No one gives hickies anymore,” I yelled. I was standing outside the coffee shop and a snooty-looking woman pointed to the sign on the door that read No Cell Phones Allowed. “Bite me,” I snapped.

She turned abruptly and stomped into the shop. Great—now I had to find another place to get lunch.
 

“So biting’s okay? Just no hickies—got it.”

“I wasn’t talking to you. I have to get back to work,” I said.

“No,” he insisted. “We need to talk about what happened.”

“Nothing happened,” I said.

“Something almost happened. I want to see you again.” His voice was suddenly soft and silky. It made my toes curl.

“I’ll call you later.” I hung up before he could protest. I had eight minutes to get something to eat and be back at the hotel.
 

The Count was pacing the floor when I reached his suite. “Ms. Hudson, you are two minutes late.”

I had a bag of chips and a fountain soda from the convenience store across the street. I was hungry, harassed, and stressed. “Sorry, Mr. Pyres. My errands took a little longer than I thought."

He waved his hand around. “Let’s get back to work.”

I rolled my eyes. Work consisted of looking for soul mates for a vampire. How did I get myself into this?

Surprisingly, there were three messages from interested women. Unfortunately, two of them were obviously prostitutes. “What does she mean when she says she’s a submissive?” he asked.

“It means we delete her message,” I said.

“What about the one who is talking about her cat?” I looked at him. Seriously?

“Um, she’s not talking about her cat,” I said pressing the delete button again.
 

The third woman was promising. She was fifty, a librarian, and liked to cook. “Let’s reply to her,” I suggested.

“She’s not exactly my type,” he sniffed. I cut my eyes at him. “But we should be polite and respond. I agree.”

I typed a bland reply. Within a few minutes she had answered back. She wanted to talk on the phone. Yikes!

Mr. Pyres looked scared. “Should I call her?” he asked.
 

“Depends on if you want to get to know her. But what have you got to lose?” I asked. “This is what dating is all about.” God help us all, I added to myself.

“You’re right!” he said banging his fist on the table. “I have to take a chance if I want to meet the woman of my dreams. Ms. Hudson, please allow me a few moments alone. I think I had better place this call privately.”

I wasn’t so sure that it was a good idea. But who was I to say? Look at my current love life. I took his manuscripts down to the hotel office and started to work through the last couple of days. Thirty minutes later the desk manager came over and told me that Mr. Pyres would like me to return to his room.

This time Mr. Pyres didn’t open the door before I could knock. In fact it took a couple minutes for him to come to the door. The door swung open and, in a flurry of black cape, The Count announced, “I have a date in an hour, Ms. Hudson. You must help me prepare.”

C
HAPTER
N
INE

GETTING MR. PYRES ready for his date was easier than I thought it would be. He was so excited about the prospect of meeting the lovely Betty that he seemed almost normal. Or maybe I was just getting used to him. I hoped Betty would be as open to his eccentricities. I tried to get him to ditch the cape, but it was a no go.
 

"It's a cloak, Ms. Hudson," he said haughtily. "I have no intention of catching my death traipsing about without a cloak."

"How about a jacket instead," I suggested. "You know something that looks normal."

"I assure you that I look perfectly normal for where I come from," he huffed.

And that would be from among the living dead? I muttered to myself. I tried another tactic. "Don't you want to make a good first impression on Betty?"
 

"I believe the best first impression I can make is to be myself." Okay, he had me there. I shrugged. Maybe Betty was into guys in capes. Hey, stranger things had happened, right? I tried to pull a little more info out of Mr. Pyres after his conversation with Betty. All he said was that her name was Betty Getty, she sounded lovely, and that they were both looking forward to participating in the Annapolis Renaissance Fair in a couple of weeks. They were meeting at a cozy little restaurant near Dock Street for drinks. I gave McGlynn’s a plug in case they wanted to go someplace afterwards.
 

I left Mr. Pyres’ hotel at four with an armload of manuscript pages. I was now two full days behind and would need to work this evening to catch up. Thankfully, there were no new messages on his accounts at the three dating sites. I didn't realize that helping him find love would be quite this time-consuming. I was shocked at the success he was having. It had me thinking about my own love life. If I guy in a cape could find someone, maybe I could too. I paused in mid-thought. Strike that. If that were the case, I'd be on my way to meet a guy in a cape. No thanks. Not worth the risk. I had enough man problems. I didn't need any new complications.

I piled the manuscripts in my car and rolled the windows down. I loved the spring. Anything was possible. Everything felt fresh and new. I flushed thinking about last night. Man, that whole scene had come out of nowhere. What are the chances of running into your high school sweetheart recently off a bad relationship? Not to mention, looking like the world's hottest lumberjack, all hard, chiseled, and grizzled. I had a hickey on my neck and whisker burns on my unmentionables. Damn that dog! It would have been better to just do it and get it out of my system. Put it behind me and move on with my life.
 

Don't get me wrong. I haven't spent the last decade asking myself what if. Just an occasional fleeting thought when I heard an old song or went somewhere we used to hang out. Sometimes I'd hear about him through friends. It always sounded like he was doing great and I was happy for him. Now I didn't know what to think. I knew I had to deal with this. I didn't see a future for us, but it would be interesting to at least finish what we started last night. I fanned myself. Slow down, Diana. You have another hot man on his way over to see you tonight. I felt like Mae West or something. But then this was how my love life went. No man for months and then two or three cued up and ready to go. Unfortunately, they always seemed to find someone else or turn out to be jerks. And then there was the one that turned out to be married. Argh! But that's another story.
 

I found a parking space right in front of my condo. Time to get serious and forget about Rick. Mark was on his way over. My priority was paying the bills, so I needed to help him or find a new job. I liked my job temping and I loved working with Carol, so I wasn't giving up without a fight. And Mark smelled so damn good! Stay on task now. Dinner. I wasn't the world's best cook, but I could make a few decent dishes. I had some frozen shrimp and fresh pasta and cheese. I also had some killer fresh veggies I had picked up over the weekend at Whole Foods.
 

By five I had the shrimp thawing, the table set, and Max walked and fed. I had changed into my soccer mom attire—a sapphire blue velour warm-up suit from Victoria’s Secret. Hey, it was comfy and sent the right message. This was not a date. Period. I pulled out my laptop and Mr. Pyres' manuscripts. Time to get caught up on the medieval meanderings. Amazing he had a publisher for this stuff. Probably a bunch of guys who wore capes.

I was only one page into the chapter on medieval hygiene practices when my phone rang. My sister. Great, I thought, what now.

"I'm working," I said right off.

"I don't care," she said. "Do you know Rick was at my house drunk and mooning over you until two in the morning?"

Huh, that was worse than I had thought. Secretly, I was a little pleased. "No," I said. "And it's not my fault."

"Yes, it is," she insisted. "You led him on."

"No, I didn't." Well, maybe a little.

Always the drama queen, she said, "You did and now he's heart-broken.”

"Look, I have a lot going on over here right now. I don't have time to deal with this. My job is in jeopardy, I have a gig Friday that I'm not ready for, and my new boss—who, by the way, may or may not be my legitimate boss—is on his way over."

"You mean the guy Granddaddy called your hottie new boyfriend?" she asked.

"Granddaddy is crazy," I dodged.

"Yeah," she said, "but not deaf. He heard you two making out in your apartment."

"We weren't making out and besides it's none of your business!" I yelled into the phone.

"It is when I have your other boyfriend at my house crying in his beer all night."

I rolled my eyes. "Hey, Miss Matchmaker, that was your fault!"

"Grow up, Diana," she shot back. "Stop trying to be rock star and get a real life. Find a man. Settle down. Make something of your life before it's too late."

"Oh my God, Ashley, you sound just like Mom." Ashley gasped. There was no greater insult.

"I do not!" she shrieked. But she did and she knew it.

"Yep," I said smugly, "I may not have a real life, but at least I haven't turned into Mom. Any day now you'll be feathering your frosted hair and wearing acid-washed jeans."

"You are the worst sister ever!" she screamed and hung up the phone.

Well, that didn't go so well. These spats were pretty normal. But it had been awhile since we had had one this heated. My family, especially my mother and my sister, were constantly waiting for me to get a real life. Like I was some perpetual college student or something. I worked, owned a home, and had a dog. What more did they want? I reached out to scratch Max's head. He glanced up at me with bored eyes and then flipped over onto his back. Scratch my belly and make yourself useful human, he growled. I obliged for a few minutes which earned me a tail wag and a lick.
 

I jumped into dinner preparation and by six had everything ready to serve. I was impressed with myself. No mishaps. No mistakes. My doorbell rang, sending Max into a barking frenzy.

Mark stood at the door holding a bag containing two bottles of wine and a bouquet of flowers. Yes, flowers. He was the first man to bring me flowers since, well, since Rick. So much for strictly business.
 

I invited him in and took the bag with the wine. I wasn't ready to acknowledge the flowers. "Two bottles?" I said. "There better be a lot of answers to go along with two bottles of wine."

He took off his coat and laid it over the back of the couch. "I'm not sure how many answers I have, but I figured the extra bottle might help us forget about the questions for a time."
 

He stepped closer and his amazing scent danced into my nostrils. He handed me the flowers. "I know I haven't made a great impression on you. But I promise I will do everything in my power to keep Greene's open. I never came here with the intention of shutting it down."

He was impossible to resist. "I believe you," I said looking up at him.
 

"I need to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer," he said. I waited for it; knowing what was coming. "Are you involved with someone right now?"

"No," I said emphatically.
 

"So that's not a hickey?" he asked hopefully.

I looked away. Well, this was awkward. "Technically I suppose you would call it a hickey," I began. "But I'm not seeing anyone."