Shipping Sharon

by Daisy Dexter Dobbs

  As Maisy groaned and sank back, Norman scootched forward in his seat, leaning his arms on the table. "Okay, Wilson, here's the deal. You've got a whole bunch of investment properties out in Schaumburg that you want to liquidate before you leave the country, right?"

  "Yup." Big Willy nodded.

  "Well, I just happen to know of a hot 'n spicy, hot-shot little Realtor named Sharon Chaney Morganfield--"

  "Morganfield?" Big Willy said. "Didn't that used to be Maisy's name before it was Schwarzenegger?"

  "Eh . . ." Norman waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah, I'll get to that part later. Anyway, Sharon's got the know-how and experience to get the job done for you and maybe . . ." Norman jiggled his eyebrows, ". . . just maybe she'd be willing to perform a few other services for someone with all your . . . uh--"

  "Money?" Big Willy asked, laughing.

  "Charm," Maisy said quickly. "Someone with all of your masculine, irresistible Texas charm--and sex appeal." Batting her eyelashes as she smiled, Maisy nearly choked on the words.

  "Aw, you sweet little thing," Big Willy said, winking as he flashed Maisy a smile.

  "The only glitch," Norman said, chomping on a forkful of the salad that their server just set before him, "is that you can't let on to Sharon that Maisy and I set this whole thing up--or that you're my cousin--or that you even know either one of us at all." A clipped spurt of staccato laughter tumbling from his throat, Norman said, "Mmm, great creamy garlic dressing, don't you think?" He turned to a clearly uncomfortable Maisy, who looked as green as his salad.

  "I don't get it, cousin. Why the big secret?" Pushing away his untouched salad--because, as he regaled his tablemates earlier, Texans don't eat that little, piddly rabbit food--Big Willy scraped his fingers down the five o'clock shadow along his jawline.

  Shrugging, Norman let forth with a volley of telltale laughter. "Funny thing," he said, nervously licking his lips. "Sharon's the widow of Maisy's ex-husband, and, uh . . . well, let's just say there's no love lost between them."

  "Okay, sounds reasonable enough," Willy nodded, "but, what does that have to do with me not tellin' her that you're my cousin?"

  "Eh . . ." Norman tugged at his collar and looked towards Maisy for help.

  "Well, uh . . ." Unable to come up with a good reason, Maisy just shrugged and sank down a little further in her seat.

  Picking up on the dilemma at hand, Rudy took a break from wolfing down his salad and, broadcasting a wide smile, slapped Norman on the back. "Because Sharon and my virile, robust, masculine friend, Norman, used to be lovers and now they detest each other."

  "Oh God," Norman and Maisy said in unison as he choked on his salad and she sprayed a mouthful of Riesling across the table. Receiving dual whacks on the back from Rudy and Big Willy, Norman fell forward, smacking his forehead onto the rim of his salad plate.

  "Is that all? Well, shoot, why didn't you say so in the first place?" Big Willy reached over and jabbed Norman in the arm with a playful punch. "You ol' son-of-a-gun. That's perfectly understandable."

  Norman shot up in his seat. "It is?" he said in surprise, wiping salad dressing from his forehead and trying to ignore the throbbing pains in his arm, head, and back. He shot a caustic look at Rudy who smiled proudly and nodded. Shaking his head in resignation, Norman just heaved a compliant sigh, realizing that the big, dopey, good-looking, good-hearted German was evidently bound and determined to preserve Norman's macho image.

  "Why sure," Big Willy said. "You were just tryin' to protect the little lady's honor, that's all." He gave his cousin another enthusiastic slap on the back. Looking a bit dazed, Norman smiled and nodded in agreement. "Well, don't you or Maisy worry none, cousin Norman, I won't let on to Sharon that I know either of you." Big Willy cocked his head and studied Norman. "You okay, cousin? You're looking' kinda green around the gills." "Oh yeah, I'm peachy . . . just peachy," Norman said, wincing as he fingered the growing egg on his forehead and thought about how horrendous his bruised and battered body would feel when he got up the next morning.

  "Being the strong, sturdy man that he is," Rudy said, "Norman hardly even feels pain. Isn't that right, my macho buddy?" Rudy gave Norman another hearty slap on the back. Cringing, Norman turned to Rudy and discreetly pushed the air with his hand in a shushing motion. Somehow he would have to get it through that big-dumb-cluck's head that enough was enough.

  The entrees were brought to the table by their server then, who stood with his hands behind his back after placing a charred-beyond-recognition burnt offering in front of Big Willy. "The chef would like to know if he has succeeded in achieving the proper shade of ebony for your steak, sir."

  A determined look etched across his features, Big Willy sawed through the big leathery slab and shoved a piece in his mouth. After an inordinate amount of time chewing, he swallowed. "Mmm-mmm!" Nodding his head up and down, Big Willy tossed a wink at the server. "You go tell that cook of yours that he did a right fine job with this piece of cattle, son."

  "I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear that," the server said with a brisk nod before leaving the table.

  "Them prissy, fussy little fellas," Big Willy said, jabbing his fork in the air towards the retreating server, "make the best waiters. Guess it's either that or bein' a hairdresser or florist, or a dancer." He shrugged. "The little dandies ain't fit for anythin' else, know what I mean?" He stuffed a chunk of burned leather in his mouth and proceeded to give his jaw muscles a workout.

  "Yes," Rudy said, nodding his head vehemently. "Because Norman and I are such manly men who love to have sex only with women, we agree with everything you say about the kind of dandy men who act like they are from other planets." He offered Norman--who sat in horrified, drop-jawed amazement--a confident wink.

  Something akin to a sick groan escaped Maisy's lips.

  "You know," Big Willy said, tsking as he angled his head, "you sure as heck got a funny way of talkin', Rudy."

  "That's because I'm German."

  "Austrian," Norman quickly corrected.

  "Oh, yes, I mean Austrian," Rudy agreed.

  "I mean, you do an awful lot of talkin' about macho this and manly that," Big Willy gestured with his fork in the air, "but here you got the purdiest little thang sittin' right there next to you and you ain't even made a move to plant a smooch on that little lady's kisser yet." Rudy paled and swallowed hard, Norman buried his head in his hands, and Maisy looked like she was praying. "Now, I can tell ya," Big Willy continued, "if that was my little woman sittin' next to me--and we was still newlyweds like you--you better believe I'd be a whole lot more attentive, that's fer dang sure."

  "Believe me," Norman said, "Rudy can't keep his hands off of her when they're in private. He's, uh . . . he's just being on his best behavior tonight." Norman winked and nudged Willy with his elbow.

  "That's true," Maisy said. "He's like an animal--aren't you, Rudy?" She smiled and pinched Rudy's cheek.

  "Yes, an animal." Rudy nodded. "That is why I cannot keep my hands off of Maisy's body--even when we are in a restaurant. Since we were seated, I have been rubbing against her big, beautiful breasts, and I, uh . . ." Rudy cleared his throat and swallowed hard, "I have been attentive to her under the table where you cannot see, Big Willy."

  Maisy gasped. "Rudy!" She blurted, knocking her wine glass over as she turned to face her pseudo husband.

  "Oh God," Norman said, shaking his head and dissolving into sickly, pained laughter.

  "Well, score one for the kraut-head!" Big Willy whacked the table hard as he broke into laughter. You foreigners sure are sneaky little rascals, that's fer dang sure. Well, I guess that'd explain why Maisy's been lookin' kinda funny on and off all night." Big Willy gave Maisy an appraising once over and winked.

  A look of sheer, unmitigated horror etched across her features, Maisy said, "This isn't happening." Closing her eyes, she massaged her temples as she scrunched low in her seat. "Please, God, tell me this is all a bad dream."

  "Aw, a little pleasurin' under the t
able ain't nothin' to be embarrassed about, Maisy, honey." Big Willy winked. "After all, he's your husband, ain't he?"

  Maisy opened her eyes and glared at Big Willy. It would be so easy just to whip off her high heel and, aiming for that smug, good ol' boy puss of his, send it careening across the table. "Yes, but there are some things ladies and gentleman simply do not discuss, or allude to, especially when they're at the dinner table--in public." Rolling her eyes, Maisy wished she could escape by seeping through the fine-grained leather of the cushy booth and becoming one with it.

  "I'm sorry," Rudy said. "I should not have talked about our secret pleasure under the table, but as a manly animal who enjoys sex with his female wife, I cannot help myself from bragging." He beamed a bright smile. "You are always very sexy and desirable to me, Maisy, my wife," Rudy said, placing his arm around her.

  Maisy looked as if she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Yes, yes, I know," she said blandly as she heaved a sigh and patted Rudy's face. She tried to be angry with the big lummox, but Rudy's earnest attempts to be a convincing, loving, heterosexual husband were really very sweet--awfully strange, but sweet. After all, it wouldn't be fair to blame poor Rudy if this whole crazy idea of Norman's flopped. Norman. Maisy cringed as she shifted her gaze to him. He was altogether another matter--he'd have to be drawn, quartered, and diced for putting her through this humiliating charade.

  "I love you," Rudy said, "and the little baby we have made from having sex together, very much."

  "I love you too, Rudy," Maisy said wearily. "Kiss-kiss." Offering a condescending smile, she kissed the air between them.

  Mistakenly taking that as a cue, Rudy grabbed Maisy and nailed her to the back of the booth with a head-spinning humdinger of a kiss. Flabbergasted, she slapped her hands against the back of the booth and shot a frantic, wide-eyed look at Norman--who clearly wasn't going to be of any help because he looked just as stupefied as Maisy.

  "Well, hot dang!" Big Willy said, smacking the table with his big paw. "Now that's the way it's done in the good old U S of A. Ain't that right, cousin?" He laughed and elbowed Norman.

  A disquieting expression across his features, Norman let go with a weak, squeaky laugh. "Darn tootin', Big Willy," Norman said with a wink, weakly punching the air with his fist.

  Maisy wasn't sure what surprised her more, Rudy's impulsive move, or the fact that he was such a damned good kisser. Either way, she had to get the big, heavy, muscle-bound German off of her before here lungs collapsed. Shifting in her seat and pushing against Rudy's massive chest, Maisy's eyes darted from left to right and grew as large as Frisbees as she spied Keller Chaney coming their way. She pushed with all her might, but the determined German wouldn't budge--he had a point to prove to Big Willy and he was bound and determined to prove it. Making frantic sounds through their kiss, Maisy shifted her eyes to Norman and back to Keller, in the hopes that Norman would see him coming and could do something to get Rudy off of her. Unfortunately, by the time Norman picked up on Maisy's signals and realized what was happening, Keller and the shapely brunette with him were striding by their table.

  "Oh shit," Norman said, leaning his elbow on the table and covering his eyes with his hand.

  Nonchalantly glancing towards their table as he passed by, Keller caught a glimpse of the kissing couple and did a classic cartoon double take when he realized the woman was Maisy. As Maisy sank down in the seat to escape detection, the counterfeit smooch ripened into a full-blown lusty spectacle as Rudy--still passionately attached at the mouth--sank right along with her.

  * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  "Why--just tell me why you think I would do something so unbelievably stupid," Norman said."Because that's your nature." Maisy lowered the passenger side visor and checked herself out in the mirror. "Of all the restaurants in the city and suburbs, you're going to tell me that Keller Chaney just happened to choose the same one we did for dinner?" She slammed the visor back in place. "Uh-uh, I don't buy it, Norman. Not for a minute."

  "Use your head, Maisy, why would I go all through the trouble of concocting such a brilliant plan only to--"

  "Brilliant plan?" Maisy guffawed. "Norman Stanley, you are certifiable, do you know that?"

  "It was brilliant. It worked, didn't it? Wilson's off your back because he's convinced you're happily married--"

  "Yeah, to an Austrian sex-fiend."

  "German," Norman corrected, and Maisy just shot him a narrow-eyed glare. "And Wilson's got an appointment to see Sharon this afternoon, doesn't he?" Norman continued as he reached over and patted Maisy's hand. "Besides, you forget, Big Willy chose the restaurant, not me. It was sheer coincidence that Keller was there."

  "Do you think he recognized me?"

  Cringing, Norman gave forth with a volley of nervous laughter as he remembered watching Keller's classic double take--and the way he craned his neck as Maisy and Rudy went down against the seat of the booth. "Eh . . . yeah, I'm afraid so." He tugged at his shirt collar and stretched his neck.

  Maisy's shoulders slumped as she gave in to an involuntary shudder. "God. What must he think?"

  "That you're a very passionate and desirable young woman who can't keep her suitors at arm's length." Norman laughed. "That's not a bad thing. I'll bet he was jealous as hell when he saw Rudy climbing all over you like that."

  "Yeah," Maisy said, huffing, "either that, or he thinks that I'm a cheap slut who's into exhibitionism." She laughed.

  Norman cocked his head thoughtfully. "Yeah, that could be a definite turn on."

  Maisy gasped and slapped his arm. "Did you get a load of that sexy brunette draped over Keller's arm?"

  "You're exaggerating--she wasn't draped over his arm. There wasn't even any body contact between them."

  "But, she was sexy."

  "Well . . . yeah," Norman admitted with a hesitant shrug. "Maybe she's a business associate."

  "Oh, you mean like his chief grape crusher perhaps?"

  "Grape crusher." Norman laughed. "That's a good one." Beaming a sprightly smile, he glanced towards Maisy who returned a sullen glare.

  "What if they're . . . you know?"

  "Doing the nasty? Well, then that's all the more reason for us to proceed with phase two of our plan so you can snag Keller and reel him in before the grape crusher has a chance to bottle him up all for herself." Norman grinned.

  "Very metaphoric." Maisy rolled her eyes. "And what's with this our plan stuff, huh? This incredibly dopey phase two idea is solely your brainchild, Norman."

  "Well, I just hate to hog all the credit." He continued when Maisy didn't return his smile. "Come on, Maisy--it's an ingenious plan, and you know it." Seizing a quick glance in the rear view mirror, Norman sprouted a wry grin as he fingered the brim of his hat. "Just look at us."

  "My point exactly. Look at us!" She flipped down the visor again and gazed into the mirror. "We look like Boris and Natasha for chrissakes."

  Norman threw his head back and laughed. "Boris and Natasha--I like that--that's funny. I guess it's better than going into Henshaw Realtors looking like Rocky and Bullwinkle, huh?"

  "That remains to be seen." Maisy huffed. "I can't believe I'm actually going along with this cockeyed scheme of yours, Norman. What if Sharon recognizes us?"

  "Relax, Maisy. It's not going to happen. With that long, black wig and those big dark glasses you're wearing, she'll never suspect a thing. And with my dapper new mustache," Norman patted the realistic looking mustache that was spirit gummed above his upper lip, "and my snappy fedora and dark glasses, that little witch wouldn't recognize me in a million years."

  About to gnaw on a fingernail, Maisy stopped short when she glanced at the fake, long crimson nails she'd donned to complete her undercover agent look. "What if Keller comes into the real estate office to visit his sister for some reason while we're there?" She checked out the dark crimson lipstick and the fake beauty mark Norman insisted on penciling in just above the corner of her mouth and cringed. "Norman, I'd di
e if Keller caught us. How would I ever explain something like this in a million years?"

  Norman studied Maisy's appearance and shrugged. "Granted, it might be a little difficult to explain, but--"

  "A little?"

  Rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh, Norman flicked his wrist. "Honestly, Maisy, you're such a worrywart. Even if Keller bumped into you head-on, he'd never know you in that get-up. Trust me--"

  "Trust me," Maisy said, mimicking Norman. "Why is it that whenever I hear you say those words I shudder right down to my liver."

  "Because you're being silly. Maisy, nobody's going to think we're anything more than an average married couple interested in buying a house." Norman gave Maisy a sideways glance. "Of course, if you'd rather we didn't go . . ."

  "You're the one who's driving. Do whatever you want. I really couldn't care less." She stretched her hands in front of her, studying the glossy red talons.

  A smile curled at Norman's lip. "Okay, let's just call it off then. I'll turn around at the corner and we can head back."

  Smirking, Maisy folded her arms across her chest and stared at Norman a minute. "Oh, quit trying to bait me, Norman Stanley. You know damn well I want to go. I've got to see what transpires between the slut and the cowboy with my own eyes."

  "That's my girl," Norman said, beaming a smile. "We'll only stay there long enough to see how everything is progressing with our little matchmaking venture and then we'll high-tail it out of there. It's a cinch--trust me."

  ***

  "Gotta go," Sharon Chaney Morganfield said into the telephone, "my two o'clock's here. From what I understand, he's got mega bucks." She cackled at whatever the caller had said and replied, "Are you kidding? I don't care if he's deaf, blind, bald, and limbless." She cackled again. "As long as he's got big bucks, I'm his girl." Sharon planted the receiver in the cradle, stood up and adjusted her skin-hugging navy knit dress. A quick lipstick check and a fluff of her red hair and she was off to the lobby to greet her new client."Well, lookee here," Big Willy said, giving Sharon a slow, agreeable, once-over as she rounded the corner and introduced herself. "Danged if you ain't just as purdy as my cousin . . . uh, I mean, my business associate, said you were. "Come on over here, little lady and let me get a good look at you."