Java Break (Java Cupid Series, Contributing Authors Book 1)

by Lynn Donovan

  She watched him walk in like he lived there. “What’re you doing here?”

  He stopped, a slice of pizza midway to his mouth. He swallowed and laid the piece back down. Brushed off his fingers and came back into the living room. “I-uh.” He took her hand. “I slept on it, like you said.”

  “Okay.”

  “And… I really like you, Wendy.” He leveled his eyes with hers. “I don’t want to lose what we have.”

  “Huh?”

  He stared at her with confusion. “What’s wrong?”

  “Wrong? Why don’t you ask Priscilla Langley what’s wrong.” Wendy stepped back from him and crossed her arms over her chest.

  He tilted his head back but kept his eyes on her. “Oooh—look, I can explain.”

  “I’m sure you can.” She walked to the door and opened it wide. “I think you should leave.”

  “No. Wait. Really, I can explain! Please hear me out.”

  Wendy tapped her foot. His eyes pleaded with her and her heart, despite her anger, softened. “Alright” —she gently closed the door— “I’ll give you three minutes. But this better be good.”

  He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Okay. I was asleep last night, and-and I heard a woman’s voice. I thought it was you.” He rubbed the top of his head. “Although, now that I think about I’ve never given you a key or showed you where I live.” He paused. “But… I was asleep and wasn’t thinking clearly… I heard a woman’s voice and I got up to see if it was you. But it wasn’t. It was… it was Priscilla.

  “She—well, she had my phone. Did she talk to you? Oh God, she talked to you didn’t she! Shit!” His eyes dropped to the floor and he paced a short distance, like a cat in a cage. “I made her leave and I made her give me the key back.”

  Wendy’s eyes widened. “She had a key? To your apartment?”

  “I have no idea how she got it!” he said quickly, holding a hand up like a cross guard. “I didn’t even know she knew where I lived. God. How’d she know where I live?” He looked up at Wendy with terror in his eyes. “I told you, she’s like obsessed, dude. She’s crazy!”

  Wendy stared at him. “Dillon. I… just… don’t—I think you should just leave.”

  “But—“

  “No. Really. I—just need you to leave.”

  Dillon’s shoulder rounded. He jammed his hand through his hair. “I—“

  She pointed out the open door. “Please don’t.” Her lip quivered and tears filled her eyes.

  Dillon slowly walked out. Wendy closed her door, slid down the wall to a crouched fetal position and cried.

  Wendy pushed her aching leg out straight. In the crouched position, it cramped. She’d cried herself dry. Lifting her phone, she thumbed a text to Lindsay.

  “Can I come over?”

  Her friend immediately texted a reply, “Of course.”

  She only lived a few blocks, but Wendy drove. Her heart and the rain were too heavy to walk. Lindsay rented a small straight-through house from her older brother. It was enough for Lindsay and Zelda, her German Shorthair. Plus it had two bedrooms, so she had room to spare when an occasional friend had too much to drink and needed to spend the night. Zelda and Lindsay slept together in the front bedroom.

  Wendy gently tapped on Lindsay’s door. She could see her friend through the glass storm door with paw prints from Zelda’s enthusiastic greetings. Zelda leapt up from the area rug and beat Lindsay to the door.

  “Down, Zelda.” Lindsay commanded.

  Zelda complied and circled around behind her mistress.

  Wendy smiled but her chin trembled and tears filled her eyes anew. She thought she’d cried every ounce of liquid from her body. Apparently, seeing her best friend generated some more.

  “What’s wrong?” Lindsay opened the glass door and hurried the drenched Wendy into her home. Zelda greeted her by placing her head under Wendy’s hand. She complied and patted the sweet hunter. “Oh, Lindsay. I think I just made the biggest mistake of my life.”

  Lindsay gasped and took Wendy by the shoulder, pulling her into a tight hug. “Wendy, come, sit.” She eased Wendy onto her couch and hurried to the kitchen. “Wait. I’ll open a bottle of wine.” Then she stuck her head around the kitchen door. “Or would ice cream be better?”

  Wendy giggled sardonically and sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “Wine it is.” Lindsay disappeared. A few minutes later she returned with two glasses, a bottle, and a cork screw. Wendy laid her head back on the couch and let her friend minister relief like only a girlfriend can. “Now. What is this huge mistake you speak of?”

  Wendy started at the beginning. The message on the cup, recognizing Dillon at work, hanging out, studying together, the kissing, laser tag, even their intimate sleep over. The crazy dinner with Mom and his dad. Priscilla. The phone call. His desperate explanation. Her kicking him out of her apartment.

  Lindsay sipped her wine and listened without saying a word. When Wendy ended her tale with a long sigh, only then did her best friend speak.

  “So. This ‘Priscilla’ wouldn’t happen to be Priscilla Langley, would she?”

  Wendy lifted tear soaked eyes. “Yes. How’d you know?”

  Lindsay lifted her manicured eyebrow and gulped a drink of wine. “Oh, Wendy. I can tell you stories about Priscilla Prissy Priss. She’s a pathological liar. She IS psycho! My cousin, Dean, met her at Brother’s Sports Bar. She latched onto him like he was the last man standing. He thought it was great, at first. You know how sweet he is?”

  Wendy nodded.

  “Then she turned weird, psycho-bitch, crazy on him. Accused him to seeing other women, when he had only come over here to hang out, like we all do. She’d been here with him and knew I was his cousin. She was like a Russian spy, I’m telling you. She’d lay a strand of hair over his car keys so she could tell if he had left the house. She poured a jar of honey in his tackle box so he couldn’t go fishing and leave her alone. She keyed his car—“

  “That sweet mustang?” Wendy’s eyes went wide.

  “Yes! Let’s see, then she became the stalker bitch from hell. She followed him all over town. She’d show up at his work and tell them her grandmother died. Dean would rush out to the lobby to talk to her and she’d be all psycho-screaming at him to come back home. They had to ban her from the building. Dean had to take out a restraining order. It was ridiculous.

  “She accused me of having an affair with him. She sent me text messages calling me everything but a white woman. I kid you not, Priscilla Langley IS CRAZY.

  “And then she had somebody’s baby, apparently she doesn’t even know who’s it was. Her parents had enough of her and tossed her to the curb, but they got custody of her kid and are raising him as their own. That’s what Dean said.”

  Wendy cocked her head back. “Dean’s not—“

  “I have no idea. He swears it’s not, but honestly who knows. It’s sad really. I feel sorry for the kid.”

  “Well, sure. But—“

  “No.” Lindsay held up her hand. “Don’t go there. Dean and I had a long talk. Even if the kids was his, her folks are richer than God and he’s better off with them. Dean couldn’t do for him what they can.”

  “Well, sure, but… okay. Leaving that alone. It just makes my stomach hurt to think—“ Wendy looked up at Lindsay and sighed. “Shutting up now.” She sipped her wine. Lindsay poured herself another.

  “Look.” Lindsay suddenly blurted. “If you’re not sure about this Dillon, how about I fix you up with my friend, Hans Jaeger.”

  Wendy shook her head.

  Lindsay scooted further back on her couch and tucked her feet under her bottom. “No, really. He works with me at the Law firm. He’s a paralegal like me. And he so cute! He’s tall… and handsome—”

  “So what’s wrong with him?” Wendy giggled.

  “Nothing!” Lindsay gulped her wine. “I swear!”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Just go out with him. At the least, it’ll get y
our mind off this mess with Dillon and maybe you can think more clearly. How about a movie or the museum? Yeah, the museum. You love museums and that way you can talk and get to know each other. I’ll call him right now.” She lifted her phone and texted.

  Wendy drew in a long slow breath. What was she letting Lindsay talk her into? Like she said, at least it’d get her mind off the mess she’d made of things with Dillon. Who knows, maybe Hans—the name alone. She shook her head. How could anybody named Hans replace her Dillon. Did she really have time to date other people? She had so much studying to do, and she was falling behind, quickly. “Listen, Lindsay, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Too late.” Lindsay’s cheeks reddened with the wine. “He said for you to let him know when. He’d love to meet you and the museum sounds great.”

  Wendy sighed. “Ah. What have you gotten me into? I’ve got so much studying to do, Lindsay, you just don’t know.”

  “So, go home and study. When’s your next day off?” She leaned against the back of her couch with her elbow and cradled her head in her hand.

  Wendy lifted her cell and opened the calendar app. “I’m off tomorrow. But I’ve got class until one.”

  “Great.” Lindsay poured another wine and topped Wendy’s glass off. “That gives you plenty of time to get caught up on your studies and you can go out with Hans tomorrow afternoon, make it an early dinner.” Lindsay texted the message.

  Wendy considered her friend’s plan. Why not? If nothing else, she’d make it clear to Dillon he wasn’t the only fish in the pond. But why did Lindsay’s friend have to be named Hans? She envisioned a huge blond behemoth with silver shark-like teeth who spoke broken English, if he spoke at all. She took a deep breath. “Okay. I better go home and work on getting caught up.”

  Lindsay stood with a slight sway. “Good for you.” Her words were slurred. Wendy glared at her and handed her the wine glass she had not finished. “Here. Don’t you go anywhere. You’ve had too much to drink.”

  “I won’t.” Lindsay hugged Wendy. “Me and Zelda are gonna watch some TV and go to bed.”

  “Okay.” Wendy hugged her friend one more time. “Thank you. I think.”

  Lindsay laughed. “You’re gonna love Hans, he’s a sweetheart!”

  EIGHT

  Wendy avoided the Java Cupid the next morning by going to the Conoco Station for her morning coffee. She winced when she sipped the thick Mocha Cappuccino, but at least it had caffeine. She couldn’t help herself when she drove toward the college and pulled into the Java Cupid strip mall parking lot. God, who’s the stalker bitch now? She drove slowly by the large glass windows and squinted to see the barista counter. She recognized Dillon’s tall frame and black apron. He was waiting on a blonde woman.

  Wendy slammed on her brakes and stared at the woman. She bounced up and down elated about something he had said. Then jumped and landed, sitting on the counter, and flung her arms around his neck. Priscilla!

  Oh man. Dillon deserved an Oscar for that performance yesterday. Wendy punched her gas pedal and sped out of the parking lot. What a fool she had been! She shook her head as she drove through a red light. Instantly, a siren screamed behind her and red and blue lights filled her rearview mirror.

  She blew her bangs and eased over to the curb. Perfect!

  Officer McVey was polite but firm. But then again, Wendy spoke respectfully to him, too. She never wanted to vent her frustrations on a cop. Especially one who just caught her driving recklessly through an intersection. She was lucky no one had run into her. How long had that light been red? She honestly had no idea.

  “I’m sorry, Officer. I was distracted. That’s all I can tell you.” Wendy said honestly.

  “Well, ma’am, I need you to focus and pay more attention.” He tore the ticket and handed it to her.

  She turned it over and groaned. “Two hundred and forty dollars.” How was she going to pay that? She had two weeks, according the fine print at the bottom. Maybe she could pick up some extra shifts. So much for having a weekend to study. She sighed and pulled her safety belt back into place. Pulling away from the curb she let her mind wonder back to Priscilla leaping on the counter and hugging Dillon. What had he said to her? She shook her head.

  What a jerk!

  Maybe Hans will be a more trustworthy guy. A paralegal, like Lindsay. If her best friend was any indication of the personality of the occupation, this date had a lot of promise.

  She pulled into the college student parking and headed to class.

  Her phone chimed. Mom. “How was your coffee boyfriend this morning?” Mom texted.

  Wendy rolled eyes. She didn’t have a clue. “Don’t know. Went to Conoco, instead.”

  “Yuck. LOL” her mom responded.

  “IKR?” Wendy replied. The only two text acronyms her mother knew was Laugh Out Loud and I Know, Right. Anything else, and she’d be taking more time to explain what the letters meant and she didn’t have time for any more convo with her mom this morning.

  Wendy put her phone on silent, then slipped it into her backpack. Class was about to begin and she didn’t want to get kicked out because her mother couldn’t help but get the last text in. Even if it was just an emoji. A slight vibration reverberated against Wendy’s back. One corner of her mouth lifted. She knew her mother so well.

  Four changes of clothes lay on Wendy’s bed. She stood in her closet staring at what was left. Jeans? A dress? A skirt and a nice blouse? Dress pants? She lifted her phone and texted Lindsay. “WHAT TO WEAR?”

  Three dots blinked as she waited for Lindsay response. “Wear your green jeans and that grey sweater.”

  Brilliant! Wendy pulled those two items from their hanger. “Shoes?” she texted.

  “Those black ankle high boots.”

  Perfect. Wendy lifted them from the shelf. “THX”

  “Sure. LOL”

  Wendy dressed and ran a comb through her hair. She applied more powder and some blush. Then freshened her lip gloss. There. That’s as good as it gets. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Just then her doorbell rang and her stomach did a somersault. Oh God! This is such a bad idea! She hurried to the door and pulled it open.

  Lindsay was right. Hans was tall, dark, and handsome. Obviously of Italian descent. He looked like a matrix character in a long black duster, black pants, and a dark blue silk shirt. His hair looked wet and combed straight back. His eyes were dark, but his teeth were white. He had a nice smile. “Wendy?”

  She smiled back. “Hans?”

  He smiled and put his hand out to shake hers. Awkwardly, she shook his.

  “Are you ready to go?” He had a nice voice, too.

  “Sure, just let me get my coat and purse.” She stepped back to retrieve both. Hans waited on the stoop. Why hadn’t she invited him in? Slipping up to his side, she walked with him to his car. “Nice Charger.” She said as he unlocked it with the remote and opened her door.

  “Thanks. It’s was a Christmas present from myself.” Pride sparkled in his smile.

  He eased down in the driver’s seat and started the engine. The throaty roar as he revved the Hemi was exciting. He turned to her with his hand on the stick shift. “Where do you want to eat?”

  She chuckled. “Anywhere but Red Robin.”

  He nodded and pursed his lips. “Quiet or fun?”

  She considered his question. Quiet would be nice so they could get to know each other. Fun would be… well fun. Like the laser tag date she’d had with Dillon. Suddenly, she felt guilty for being here, in Hans’s car. What was she thinking? “How about quiet.”

  “Quiet, it is.” He put the car in gear and popped the clutch.

  She had no idea where they were going. Her stomach churned with acid. Hunger was the furthest thing from her wants or needs. She wished she’d never agreed to this date. How did she let Lindsay talk her into this? He pulled into a CiCi’s Pizza parking lot. This was his idea of quiet? Everybody she knew came here to eat. Even though they were ha
ving an early dinner… still the probability of running into someone she knew was highly likely. She sighed and undid her seatbelt. Hans walked around and opened her door, extended his hand to help her out of the low seated Dodge.

  “I gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting this.”

  “Is this okay?” He quickly stopped walking and turned to face her.

  “Oh, yeah.” She nodded. “It’s okay.”

  “Good. Lindsay said you love pizza.”

  Good ol’ Lindsay. “I do. Who doesn’t love pizza?” Wendy giggled. Hans took her hand and led her into the restaurant.

  Plates piled two layers with slices from the bar, and a drink from the fountain, Wendy sat across from Hans at a four top table. “So, Lindsay says you two work together?”

  Hans chewed his pizza, holding up a finger to indicate ‘wait.’ He swallowed and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Yes. I’m a paralegal like her, but we work for different lawyers. I’m down the hall from her. We handle litigation and business law. She’s with the Keel brothers. They handle family and health law. Of course, either side will handle a divorce or two, depending on who the client is. And the other partners handle criminal, but we don’t ever get into that.”

  Wendy nodded. Wow. A lot of information about nothing. She ate a slice of pizza and looked around the restaurant. Several couples and families were vigorously engaged in conversation, while she couldn’t think of anything to say. Why didn’t he ask her about her career or school?

  “So, I’m studying to be a nurse.” She finally started her own discussion.

  He nodded and held up a finger. Once he swallowed and wiped his mouth. “Yeah, Lindsay told me that.”

  “Okay.” Wendy drank her water and glanced around. A little girl in a polka-dot dressed was excitedly telling her mother about a grasshopper, only she called it a hopper grass. The mother responded with such enthusiasm one would have thought this was the most interesting tale of all times. Wendy lifted her eyes to Hans. He had finished his pizza and excused himself to go back for the dessert pizzas. “Sure.” Wendy responded and sighed. She ate another slice and stared at the next two pieces. She couldn’t eat another bite. Hans returned with an apple strudel pizza and three cinnamon sticks. He ate them while she leaned her chin on her hand and watched. “So, what do you do for fun?