My Nerdy Valentine

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  "Is that so?" Will's eyes widened as he glanced at Amanda.

  "I told her you were nice. Which you are. This is Mavis Endicott, my neighbor." Amanda was one cool customer. Only a glimmer in her blue eyes gave any indication that she was thinking about that red vibrator.

  Will, meanwhile, had to clear his throat before he responded. "Glad to meet you, too, Mavis. Amanda has ... excuse me." He cleared his throat again. "Mentioned you."

  The apartment door on Will's left swung open and a short bald man came out. "Has she mentioned that Mavis is crazy as a bedbug?"

  "Will," Amanda said, "this is Chester Ambrose. Chester, this is Will Sloan, the man who—"

  "Who didn't send the valentines!" Chester stepped into the hall and stuck out his hand. "Glad to meet you!"

  "Same here." Will had never in his life been so glorified for not doing something.

  Chester finished shaking hands and swung his arm to encompass the hall full of red, white, and pink decorations. "Will, would you look at this frippery? I'm the only sane one left on the floor. My door is bare, the way nature intended it." Reaching back, he closed his door with a flourish. "See?"

  There was a moment of complete silence as the eye of the storm passed over. Then Chester exploded. "What the hell is this?" He ripped the heart off his door, marched over to Mavis and waved it in her face. "You know what this is?"

  Mavis stood her ground. "I most certainly do. Do you?"

  "It's trespassing! You trespassed on my door!"

  "Fiddlesticks." Mavis stuck out both chins. "That door belongs to the apartment complex, not to you. And the manager thinks my decorations are festive. I had to do something about your door. It didn't fit in."

  Chester's whole body quivered with rage. "I don't want to fit in."

  "Oh, cool your jets, you old windbag." With a wave of her hand. Mavis strolled into Amanda's apartment as if she owned it. "I brought over a treat, but with the way you're behaving, I don't think I'll offer you any."

  Chester stood there blinking. "Didn't want any in the first place," he muttered. "Probably tastes like rabbit droppings." Then he followed Mavis into Amanda's apartment.

  Will turned to her. "Is it always like this?"

  "Pretty much. My apartment is the DMZ." She smiled at him. "Come on in and have some rabbit droppings. Then we can tell them why you're here."

  "Don't forget about the hummingbird."

  Her smile vanished. "I haven't forgotten. But I'm going to do that quietly. I don't want to scare Mavis and Chester."

  Will nodded. If he'd had no other reason to become entranced by this woman, and he had several, her compassion for these two eccentric neighbors would be enough. She might not want him, but at the moment there was no one else he wanted more.

  While Mavis was setting out plates, napkins, and whatever soft drinks she could find in Amanda's refrigerator to go with her microwave cheese balls, Amanda edged over to the living room window. She made sure Mavis and Chester weren't looking before pulling the suction cup from the window, along with the stained-glass hummingbird. She felt like an idiot for not realizing that this could lead someone to her, but until last night she hadn't thought the valentine guy knew where she lived.

  She should cut herself some slack, because stress and lack of sleep were affecting her brain, but she'd always been proud of her ability to think through her problems. She hoped her love of the miraculous little hummingbirds wouldn't turn out to be her undoing.

  Tucking the sun-catcher and suction cup between a couple of books in her bookcase, she glanced at the answering machine on her desk in the living room. One message. She tried to tell her rolling tummy that the message was a recorded sales call for satellite TV or a political message of some kind. Her tummy didn't believe that.

  But she wasn't about to play the message, whatever it was, while Mavis and Chester were still here. As she walked back to the dining nook where Chester and Will had already taken a seat, Will glanced up. He must have seen something in her expression, because he frowned.

  "So I tried commodities a while back," Chester said. "Lost money. Then I bought Enron stock. You know how that went. Finally I decided to buy stock in this feminine products company that's based right here in Chicago. Purely Hers. I figure women always need that stuff. That stock's doing okay."

  "Playing the market's always a gamble." Will loosened his tie. "I could steer you toward a couple of mutual funds I like, if you want something that's a little less volatile."

  Amanda paused, struck by how manly Will looked sitting there with his suit coat off, his sleeves rolled back and his tie at half mast. She envisioned coming home to a guy like Will every night, and the thought heated her up more than a little. She was capable of postponing that kind of reward, though.

  "But you can't make as much money in those mutual funds." Chester had leaned the red cardboard heart against the rungs of his chair. Although he'd ripped the heart from the door with seeming force, he must have used a certain amount of finesse, because the heart remained intact.

  Amanda had the urge to kiss his bald head. His bluster hid a very soft center.

  "Over the long haul you might make even more, but the choice is yours," Will said. "Ultimately, you're the investor."

  "Chester the Investor. It rhymes!" Mavis came in with a liter bottle of ginger ale and added it to the half-full liter of cola already on the table.

  "Isn't that hysterical," Chester said. "Next thing I know you'll make up a song about it."

  "I might, at that. Or a picture book. I've always wanted to write one."

  "And you could dedicate it to Chester." Amanda was grateful for this wacky pair. They were taking her mind off valentines and songs on answering machines.

  "I don't want a dumb dedication," Chester said. "I want a cut."

  "Why am I not surprised?" Mavis gestured toward the two bottles. "This is all I could find. There's wine, but I didn't think Amanda would want that before she goes to work."

  Chester glanced at her. "Good thinking for a change. Are you two women going to sit down or what?"

  "Sure." Before Amanda reached the chair, Will leaped up and pulled it out for her. As he helped her scoot in, she breathed in Old Spice. Lust could be another distraction from terror. So could her battle with lust. She'd take ail the distractions she could get.

  Mavis sighed. "Isn't that adorable?"

  "I suppose you'd like similar treatment?" Chester scowled at Mavis.

  "I wouldn't dream of expecting it."

  "Oh, for crying out loud." With a groan, Chester left his chair and yanked out the vacant chair for Mavis.

  She sat down and gave him a prim smile. "Thank you, sir. That was most kind."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don't get used to it." Chester flopped into his chair. "What do you think the market's gonna do, Will? If you have any hot tips, I'm listening."

  Mavis glared at him. "Don't you know that's rude? It's like asking a doctor during a cocktail party whether he'll take a look at the mole on your backside to see if it's skin cancer."

  "In the first place, this isn't a cocktail party." Chester glared right back. "In the second place, I don't take off my pants for just anybody. I have to have a real special reason. Just so you know."

  "I'm sure our guest is delighted to hear such intimate details about you, Chester." Mavis smiled at Will. "I didn't think I'd ever get to meet you, because Amanda seems so determined not to date anyone, but here you are."

  "I need to explain that." Amanda picked up a cheese ball. It felt like a lump of Silly Putty. "Will has agreed to pose as my boyfriend, in hopes that will discourage the guy sending me valentines." She bravely popped the cheese ball into her mouth, but when she tried to crunch down on it, the cheese ball didn't give.

  "Brilliant." Mavis took a cheese ball and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. "Whose idea was it?"

  Amanda gave up trying to chew the cheese ball to death and swallowed it whole, pretending it was an oyster. Except oysters slid
down, and this cheese ball was stubbornly clinging to her esophagus. Finally she washed it down with ginger ale.

  After some delicate coughing, she was able to speak again. "It was Will's idea."

  Speaking of Will, he'd also taken the cheese ball plunge, and judging from the way his jaw muscles were working, he wasn't making much progress with it, either.

  "Having a little problem with the cheese balls, are you?" Chester gave them each a sly grin.

  "Not at all." Amanda grabbed another one. "These are great."

  "Mm!" Will nodded enthusiastically.

  "So anyway, Will and I decided he should sleep here overnight—on the couch, of course. That way he'll look like a serious boyfriend."

  "Forced together by circumstances." Mavis got all dreamy-eyed. "Just like Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert in It Happened One Night."

  "But this is different. Will and I are just friends." Amanda tried to pull the cheese ball apart. It seemed like half a cheese ball should go down easier than a whole. "This is only to get rid of the valentine guy. Nothing permanent." No matter which way she tried to rip the rubbery little bastard, it refused to split.

  "Makes no never mind how you arrange it." Chester took a cheese ball from the plate. "I think it's a good idea for two people to live together, try out the deal."

  Amanda's cheeks warmed. "But that's not what this is. It's not an arrangement. We're not moving in together because we're involved. It's all pretend." She looked to Will for backup, but he was still busy trying to chew his cheese ball.

  "It's pretend for now," Mavis said. "But you never know. Being in the same apartment all night could lead to things you can't predict in advance."

  "It won't lead to anything." Amanda resorted to squeezing the cheese ball to try and make it thinner. "This is my senior year. I'm not taking any chances."

  "I wouldn't, either, if I was you." Chester continued to study his cheese ball. "Use protection."

  Will grabbed a napkin and coughed into it.

  "Chester Ambrose!" Mavis shook her cheese ball at him. "You're embarrassing them. Now stop it."

  "I am?" Chester's eyes widened. "I thought this was the modern age. Listen, I'm not the one who came home with a red vibrator in my knapsack."

  Amanda didn't dare look at Will. Finally she thought she'd be able to reply, but she still had to clear her throat before she could do it. "Will and I are not going to become involved. That's all I wanted you both to know."

  Chester shrugged. "If you say so. In my view, there's nothing wrong with a little fooling around. It's a whole lot better than resorting to artificial methods, which may or may not be red, if you get my drift." He put his cheese ball on his plate. "I think I'll run next door and get my hacksaw."

  "Very funny," Mavis said. "Innovative cooking is obviously wasted on you." She glanced at her watch and pushed back her chair. "This has been fun, but I have to go. Wheel of Fortune comes on in two minutes."

  Chester looked up. "You watch that?"

  "Yes, I do, and don't you dare make fun of me for it."

  "Wasn't going to." Chester stood. "I tune in once in a while, myself."

  Mavis headed for the door. "Well, if you think I'm going to invite you to watch it with me, you're sadly mistaken."

  Chester picked up his cardboard heart and followed her. "Why would I want to watch it with you? I'll bet you shout out the answers and don't give anyone else a chance to guess."

  "You'll never know, though, will you?" Mavis opened the door. "Nice to meet you, Will."

  "Same here, Mavis," Will said.

  "Ditto for me," Chester said as he followed Mavis out the door and closed it behind him.

  Will glanced over at Amanda. "They're crazy about each other, aren't they?"

  "I think so. But they haven't figured it out yet."

  Will nodded. "That happens."

  Amanda looked into his eyes as silence settled around them. So this was what being alone with Will was like. The air seemed to quiver and pulse as they gazed at each other. She'd made a slight tactical error. In evaluating how easily she'd be able to resist him, she'd based her conclusions on the evidence presented in more crowded conditions.

  Even when he'd kissed her, they'd been in an office where anyone could walk in. The rest of the time, they'd had people around to dilute this magnetic pull. Deprived of that diluting influence, they could be in some serious trouble.

  "Amanda?"

  Holding his gaze, she leaned closer. Her breathing changed, and her body seemed to melt into the contours of the chair. "What?"

  "Was there a message on the answering machine?" That was the end of that. She sat upright, ail the warm yummies chased away. "Yes, there was." "Then we'd better listen."

  "Right." As she left the table, she told herself to be grateful that he'd remembered why he was here. Eventually she would be able to dig down and find that gratitude. For now, she hated, positively hated, that he'd ruined the mood.

  That wasn't particularly fair, considering that she was the one who kept announcing she didn't want to become involved. But she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt that liquid sensation as her body prepared for sex. She'd forgotten how wonderful the sensation could be. Unfortunately, now she remembered only too well, and that would make the next few days ... hell.

  NINETEEN

  Close call. Will took a deep breath before following Amanda over to the answering machine. Sitting at the table looking into each other's eyes had been a very bad idea. He needed to keep them both moving, both thinking about the valentine guy and his shenanigans. Otherwise they'd let nature take its course, and although Amanda might want that at first, she'd hate him later.

  Besides that, he'd made her a promise that he wouldn't take advantage of this situation. No matter how she behaved or what her smoldering eyes said, he had to remember that promise. He didn't want to be a guy who threw roadblocks in her path. She already had one of those, and he'd probably left another damn song on her answering machine. "Here goes." Amanda punched play. At first there was nothing but a few little knocks and shuffling sounds. Will allowed himself to hope that it was a wrong number and soon he'd hear the click of a disconnect. But the intro to Power Station's "Some Like It Hot" destroyed that fantasy.

  The reproduction was bad, which confirmed what she'd thought, that the guy was holding the phone up to a stereo. This particular number was far more suggestive than "Hungry Like the Wolf." The valentines had escalated in bawdiness, and now it seemed the songs would become progressively more explicit, too. Great.

  "That's enough." Amanda pushed delete and a robotic female voice with a British accent announced that the message had been erased.

  "I wonder if you should be saving those."

  Amanda turned to him. "Why? We both know the police aren't going to want to investigate penny-ante things like this. I don't know what they could figure out from this kind of message, anyway."

  Will took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "I suppose you're right."

  "It's close to Valentine's Day. I'll bet all kinds of people end up with secret admirers right about this time. I think the cops would laugh in my face if I complained about mine."

  "I don't think the guy's into hearts and flowers."

  "No." Lines of tension showed around her mouth and eyes.

  Will longed to suggest buying two tickets to Tahiti. She needed a break from all this. The jerk wouldn't follow them there, and by the time they came back, he might have lost interest. Of course, Amanda's semester would be ruined along with her career plans, but a tropical vacation with her would be so incredible.

  Neither of them could afford incredible right now. Someday she might be able to lounge on the beach with an umbrella drink, but not this week. "I noticed you took down the hummingbird," he said.

  She nodded. Then she sighed. "This sucks."

  "Yep. But we might as well get on with the routine. What's next on the schedule?"

  They looked at each other
for a little longer than was wise, judging by the reaction in his groin. He'd have to work up an immunity to those big blue eyes.

  "Work," she said. "I need to change."

  "Then go ahead. I can change out here." He noticed her hesitation. Her apartment furniture was basic and a little worn, but the place was neat, without things scattered everywhere. He liked that. "I'll fold my clothes so I won't make a mess."

  "You need to hang up that suit." She glanced at the duffel bag he'd brought. "Did you bring another one in there?"

  "No. I took a garment bag to the office with enough stuff to last me for a few days. All I have in the duffel are casual clothes. And pajamas."

  Her cheeks turned a sweet shade of pink. "This feels very weird. We don't know each other all that well."

  "Is there another guy friend you'd rather have do this?" He didn't like the idea, but he wasn't going to force the issue.

  She shook her head. "I hate to admit it, but my current friendships are on the superficial side. Work and school have made a social life damned near impossible. I don't know anyone well enough to make this kind of request. You offered, and after that first song on the answering machine ..."

  "Then we'll just go with it."

  "Yeah." She took a deep breath. "Thanks."

  "No problem." She looked so vulnerable, so in need of having someone hold her. But they were alone, and that was against the rules. He could only touch her when it would make an impression on someone else, and that way he wouldn't be tempted to take that next step and start removing clothes.

  "Once you change out of the suit, I'll hang it in my closet so you won't have to cram it into the duffel bag." She gave him a quick smile. "See you in five minutes. Eat all the cheese balls you want while I'm gone."

  He laughed, glad she hadn't lost her sense of humor. Once she'd walked into her bedroom and closed the door, he pulled off his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt. From inside the bedroom came the sound of Madonna, turned up to blast level. He didn't blame her. He wondered if she was in there dancing away her angst, and he hoped so.