My Nerdy Valentine

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Mavis followed her in and closed the door behind her, as if they were roomies. "Good. You need a break. And now you have time to eat the chicken alfredo I made for you."

  "Mavis, you really don't have to feed me." And because Mavis wasn't much of a cook, Amanda would rather grab something at Geekland.

  "I enjoy it. Besides, I'm practicing with my new microwave. I think this is a little overdone, so if it is, just say so and I'll nuke you another one. Say, what's that red pointy thing sticking out of your backpack?"

  Damn. Amanda took off her backpack, and sure enough, all the jostling on the bus had caused the vibrator to shift and poke through the zippered opening. No wonder people had been staring.

  She shoved it back inside and cast around madly for an explanation. She felt like she was trapped in the Steve Martin movie Parenthood. "It's ... a battery-operated curling iron."

  "Can I see? I've been thinking I needed to do something different with my hair." "The batteries are dead."

  "Then let me get you some! I have a whole drawerful of batteries. What size does it take?"

  The doorbell rang, and Amanda would love to think she'd been saved by the bell, but somehow she doubted it. "Let me get that."

  "Go ahead, but be sure to check the peephole. There are some wackos out there."

  Didn't she know it. At least her particular wacko hadn't contacted her here, so she felt reasonably safe in the apartment building.

  "I'll get you a napkin and fork so you can start eating this before it gets cold," Mavis said.

  "Thanks, Mavis." Amanda checked the peephole and wasn't surprised to see Chester standing there. He was holding something in a cellophane package. She opened the door.

  "I saw you come home early, and I decided you need to put some meat on your bones." Chester shoved a package at her. "Here's Ding-Dongs."

  "Why, thanks. You didn't have to do that."

  "No problem. With my coupon, these were practically free. Don't pay any attention to that expiration date. They only put that on there to make people think you have to buy right away. Those Ding-Dongs will be good until next Christmas." As he talked he kept glancing over her shoulder.

  "Thanks for the Ding-Dongs, Chester." Amanda suspected she'd turned into an unknowing matchmaker. By befriending Amanda, Chester could have contact with Mavis and not seem to be seeking her out. Amanda took pity on him. "Would you like to come in for a minute?"

  "Don't mind if I do. I half expected that Mavis woman to be over here, pestering you."

  "She brought me a chicken alfredo."

  "In that I should make myself scarce. She'll only start in about the door decorations if I give her the chance." But instead of leaving, Chester remained where he was. He was obviously dying to spar with Mavis again.

  Amanda thought it was funny, but sweet, too. She was happy to help out. "Why don't you come in, anyway? I don't get home early very often. It gives us all a chance to talk."

  "Maybe for a minute. But if she starts in on me, I'm outta here."

  "I understand completely." As she stepped back to let Chester in she heard a buzzing sound.

  "These batteries are tine," Mavis said, "but I can't figure out how you curl your hair with this contraption."

  Turning, Amanda discovered Mavis trying to wrap a section of her red hair around the humming red vibrator.

  Chester made a weird choking sound, and when she glanced at him, his face was the color of the vibrator and his shoulders were quivering.

  Laying the Ding-Dongs on the table next to the chicken alfredo, Amanda turned to Chester. She had to clear her throat a couple of times before she could speak. "Could you excuse Mavis and me for a minute?"

  Eyes brimming, he nodded.

  "I just don't get it," Mavis said. "Must be a new salon technique, and I never bother with salons."

  "Come on in my bedroom," Amanda said. "I'll explain how it works." She wondered if this was how parents felt when they had to discuss the facts of life with a kid. She didn't feel at all prepared to educate a seventy-two-year-old woman about sex toys, but it looked as if the job had fallen to her.

  "That's okay." Mavis shut off the vibrator and laid it on the table. "You can show me later. Eat your food before it's stone-cold."

  "But—" She peeked at Chester to see how he was holding up. He seemed to have gained some control of himself. She lifted her eyebrows, and he shrugged in response. With a little sigh of resignation, she sat down at the table and tried to avoid looking at the vibrator.

  Chester sat across from her, and Mavis sat to her left. "Wait," Mavis said. "You don't have anything to drink."

  "That's okay." Amanda peeled back the foil and stabbed at the crusty food with her fork. No doubt it would taste like packing peanuts, but she wanted to make the chicken alfredo all gone as quickly as possible. She'd never eaten a meal with a vibrator lying six inches from her plate, and she found it disconcerting.

  "No, you need something. Milk." Mavis got up and hurried into the kitchen.

  Chester gazed after her and shook his head. "Clueless," he murmured.

  "It's cute, in a way."

  For a change, Chester didn't leap in with some disparaging remark. "She could get herself in trouble someday."

  Amanda recognized an opening when she heard it. "Maybe she needs someone around to keep that from happening."

  Chester reared back in his seat. "Don't look at me."

  "Oh, I didn't mean you." They both knew she meant exactly him, but he couldn't admit that yet.

  "Here you go, a nice big glass of milk." Mavis reappeared and set the glass next to Amanda's dried-out microwave meal. Then she picked up the package of Ding-Dongs. "Chester Ambrose, you should be ashamed of yourself. These Ding-Dongs expired on October tenth."

  "They're perfectly good."

  "Not for Amanda, they're not." Mavis shoved the package across the table at him. "You eat 'em if you want. I doubt you have taste buds, anyway."

  "At least I know what a hair curler is supposed to look like."

  Amanda ate faster.

  "How would you know?" Mavis gave him a scornful glance. "You don't have any hair."

  "I don't have hair because I'm highly sexed."

  "You? Ha!"

  Shoveling the last of the petrified meal down her throat, Amanda washed it down with milk. She hadn't realized matchmaking could be so perilous.

  "It's a fact," Chester said. "Men with higher levels of testosterone lose their hair faster."

  "And what's that good for? You can't even be bothered to decorate your front door."

  "Oh, it's good for something." Chester waggled his eyebrows.

  Amanda decided that was about all the geriatric flirting she could handle at the moment. She slid her chair back. "That was great! Now I really need to change clothes."

  "You need a Ding-Dong." Chester pushed the package toward her.

  "Don't eat those." Mavis grabbed the package. "You could get ptomaine poisoning."

  "It's a good thing you taught third grade and not high school science," Chester said. "Those there are carbs. You get ptomaine from putrefied protein."

  "Well, la-de-da." Mavis fluffed her hair. "Maybe a person would get some other kind of poisoning, then. They put those dates on things for a reason, you know."

  Chester looked wounded. "She won't get poisoned. I wouldn't give her something that would make her sick."

  Amanda ripped open the package. "I'm sure they're fine." She took a bite of a very stale Ding-Dong and smiled. "Delicious."

  "If you feel sick later, it's all his fault."

  Chester leaned toward Mavis. "Listen, woman, I'm not taking any more from you." He picked up the vibrator and waved it in her direction. "And this is not a curling iron."

  "Is so. Amanda said it was."

  "She was trying to protect you."

  "From what?"

  Amanda swallowed the last of the Ding-Dong. "Mavis, I'm sorry. It isn't a curling iron. It's a vibrator."

  Mavis's ey
es widened and her cheeks turned pink. "You mean one of those gizmos you use for sex?" Her voice rose to a squeak.

  "Yes, and before you start thinking I'm the kind of girl who carries vibrators around all the time, let me explain why I have it." And she proceeded to fill them in on the secret valentine deliveries, William, and her reasons for coming home early today.

  "But this William sounds so nice!" Mavis looked upset. "If he's a nice man, you should spend some time with him. You could use a nice man."

  "Someday. Not now. I can't afford to get sidetracked."

  Chester waved a hand. "You do what you have to in that regard. What concerns me is this valentine nut. I don't like the sound of it."

  "I'm not crazy about the situation, myself."

  "But he only leaves these things at your office?" Chester gazed at her intently.

  "So far."

  "Then maybe he doesn't know where you live."

  Mavis shuddered. "I hope he doesn't know that. What you need is a dog. Except we're not allowed to have pets. I always thought we should be able to have pets, and I would have moved to a place that allows pets, but I've made so many friends here that I hate to leave. I think a dog would—"

  "Mavis, you're drifting from the point," Chester said. "And that point is that we need to keep a closer eye on Amanda from now on."

  Amanda couldn't imagine either of them keeping a closer eye than they were already doing. She could barely make a move without one or both noticing. From that standpoint, they were probably better protection than a dog.

  "I understand we need to keep a closer eye on her, Chester. I just wish we could have pets. Maybe I'll get up a petition."

  "That's a fine idea," Chester said.

  Mavis and Amanda both stared at him. He'd never approved of anything Mavis proposed.

  "Don't look so amazed," he said. "If you get on a kick about allowing pets in the building, you won't have time to hassle me about my blessed door."

  "I don't hassle you! I've merely suggested that—"

  "I'm going to change clothes," Amanda said. "And I'll get this thing out of sight." She reached for the vibrator.

  "Wait." Mavis glanced at it with poorly disguised curiosity. "I've never seen one up close."

  "You have so," Chester said. "You just tried to use it to curl your hair."

  "That wasn't my fault."

  "No, it was mine," Amanda said. "I should have told you the truth right away, but I was afraid I'd shock you."

  "I have an open mind." Mavis gazed at the vibrator. "I'd like to look at it again."

  "That's my exit cue," Chester said. "When women start playing with vibrators, it's time for me to vamoose."

  "I didn't say I would play with it, Chester Ambrose! I just want to look. There's no crime in looking, is there?"

  "Looking can lead to other things, and I'm not sticking around to find out if it does or not. For the record, I believe in old-fashioned sex." With that, he left in a swirl of male indignation.

  Mavis watched the door close behind him. "You wouldn't think a man like Chester would be spooked by a little old vibrator."

  Feeling a little Gloria-esque, Amanda gestured toward the red wand in Mavis's hand. "Would you ... uh ... like to borrow it?"

  Mavis smiled at her. "I thought you'd never ask."

  THIRTEEN

  William decided he wouldn't sleep tonight if he didn't go to Geekland and talk to Amanda about her problem. He knew so little about her— whether she had a roommate, a Doberman, or a triple lock on her door. Maybe the valentine guy wouldn't track her down to where she lived, but that wasn't at all certain.

  She'd made it clear that she didn't want his help. He could accept that more easily if he knew she had some protective measures already in place. For all he knew she was a martial arts expert who could take him down in three seconds flat. If she could reassure him that she wasn't as vulnerable as she seemed, he'd back off.

  Then he walked into Geekland and saw her behind the counter consulting her Barmaster, her fake glasses sliding down her nose and her hair in those two adorable pigtails, and he didn't want to back off. She was so ... plucky.

  Take for example the way she'd handled lunch. Instead of slinking out the door when she'd spotted Gloria at the table, she'd pretended to be arriving and eager to share a table. She'd tried to help him out with his overenthusiastic client, and he was grateful.

  But his feelings were going far beyond gratitude lately. Why couldn't Amanda be hot for his body? Why did her boss have to be the one angling to get him naked? Sometimes he caught hints that Amanda wasn't completely indifferent to him. She'd responded to that kiss they'd shared. And now, when she glanced up from the drink she was concocting, her first unguarded response was to smile.

  She quickly changed her expression, though, masking any apparent pleasure with a blank stare. He took heart from her first reaction and ignored her second one as he walked over and took a stool right in front of her.

  "Be with you in a minute." She didn't look up from the layered drink she was concocting.

  "What is that?" Her technique with the bar spoon fascinated him. Oh, hell, it wasn't only that, it was every little move she made. She radiated competence, and he found that extremely sexy.

  "It's called a Raging Bull."

  That sounded like a macho drink to him, and he could probably do with some macho. A man who ordered something called a Raging Bull would drink hard and love hard. That should counterbalance his image as a boring stockbroker.

  "I'll take one." He should probably find out what was in it first, but if he asked that, it would destroy the bar-savvy image he was going for.

  She glanced up, then back down again. "Okay."

  He'd caught the beginnings of another smile. "What? You don't think I'm the Raging Bull type?"

  "I didn't say that."

  "Good, because I'm all about Raging Bulls."

  "Uh-huh." She finished fixing the drink and took it down to a customer on the end, a burly guy who was deep into the trivia game on the television screen above his head.

  He looked like a truck driver, but here he was at Geekland playing trivia with a vengeance. As he picked up his drink in one beefy hand, William decided maybe geeks came in all shapes and sizes. He still wouldn't classify himself as one, but the category was broader than he'd thought.

  Amanda returned to stand in front of him. "Do you know what's in a Raging Bull?" "All the good stuff." She arched her eyebrows.

  Well, if she wasn't buying the hard-drinking, hard-loving image, he'd try a different approach. "If you let me borrow your Barmaster I'll tell you."

  That little smile flashed again, but then she turned serious on him. "I'll just tell you. Kahlua, sambuca, and tequila."

  "What's a sambuca?"

  "Licorice-flavored liqueur. In other words, this drink is all booze, sort of like the Bahama Mama Justin had last night, the one that made him drunk enough that I had to call you."

  "Yes, but that was on top of a truckload of other drinks. This is my first of the night. I think I can handle it."

  She gazed at him. "Did you come here to drink?"

  "No, I came here to talk to you. But it wouldn't be fair to you or Geekland for me to sit here with nothing but a glass of water. A Raging Bull sounds about right."

  She held his gaze a little longer. Then she concentrated on making his drink. "Since you want to talk, let me tell you a story."

  "I'm listening."

  "Once upon a time there was a smart girl who fell head over heels for a guy and focused entirely on him. When he died at a fairly young age, she had no money, no career, nothing to live for. Not long afterward, she died, too."

  His chest tightened. "Sad story."

  "My mother's story."

  "I'm sorry."

  She glanced up. "I just want you to know that nothing, and I mean nothing, is coming between me and my goal. I intend to graduate with honors and a glowing recommendation from Gloria. Then I'll head to Harvard for m
y postgrad work. Someday I'll have an office and clients, just like she does."

  "You will?" He had a tough time picturing her in leopard-print jumpsuits and a cabinet full of sex toys.

  "Okay, not just like she does. She's nuts."

  "Justin's ready to take her on."

  "Uh-oh. Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

  "Not really. But I thought I'd warn you, in case he shows up there. Maybe you could talk him out of pursuing that course of action."

  She layered what looked like the licorice stuff on top of the Kahlua. "Are you sure that's such a bad idea?"

  "It's a terrible idea. He's not that sexually experienced. He'd be in way over his head with a woman like Gloria. You just said yourself that she's nuts."

  "She is, but she's a therapist, too, and believe it or not, she has some very satisfied clients." She topped off his drink with tequila. "She might take Justin's mind off his problems."

  "That's assuming she'd be interested. If she rejected him, I don't think he could take it right now."

  "She wouldn't reject him. After he left the office the other day, she said if she didn't already have her... um ... that is, if you weren't in the picture, she'd consider—

  "Back up a minute. Exactly how did she refer to me?" He imagined all sorts of labels a woman like Gloria would use. Boy toy. Studmuffin. Love slave.

  "Never mind."

  "Come on, Amanda. I deserve to know how she talks about me behind my back."

  "Promise you won't get mad?"

  "I promise."

  "Geek of the Week." She set his drink quickly on a cocktail napkin. "Excuse me. Tina needs an order filled."

  Geek of the Week. That hat with the earflaps had done more damage than he'd thought. If Gloria knew him better, then she'd ... wait a minute. Justin thought William was a geek, too. He'd said that William would fit into the Geekland atmosphere just fine.

  And, damn it, he did like it here, but that was only because Amanda was the bartender. Without her he wouldn't be attracted to the place at all. Or maybe a little bit. Playing trivia was kind of cool because the people who came here presented a competitive challenge. He also got a kick out of the inventive drinks, and the clear acrylic bar and the neon sculptures on the wall.