“No,” Annie said, then stifled a giggle.
“You do, don’t you. That’s it! I’ve had enough of you and your lowbrow friends and no-talent family. I’m done here.” The man lifted his turkey waddle, tugged on the edges of his dinner jacket and stormed out of the pub.
“You can always tell the jerks by their dinner jackets,” said a man’s voice. I turned to look. It was Vance, the owner of Kelly’s Pub. He turned to Annie. “You all right, sis?”
“Uh, yes. I think so.”
Vance spoke to Milly, aka the trailer princess. “Thank you, Miss.”
Milly’s face twitched. “You’re welcome.” Milly pinched a bit of fabric on either side of her dress and curtsied. I felt my face grow hot.
Vance turned back to Annie. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I don’t know what I was thinking, giving Harold a second chance. Thank you, Miss. What’s your name?”
Annie looked up at Milly. Her face registered deer in the headlights. “Uh...Mill...oh. Marsha. Marsha Mello...ski. Marsha Melloski.”
“Thank you, Miss Melloski. If you’ll all excuse me, I think I just want to go home.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Vance said.
Vance and Annie left. Milly, aka Miss Melloski, walked over to me. She slapped herself on the forehead. “What have I done?”
“Nice work, Marsha Melloski. Why didn’t you just call yourself Tootie Frootie?”
“Aww, crap, Val! I might have just ruined that woman’s life!”
“No you didn’t. You saved a damsel in distress. You’re a natural born Date Buster.”
“Cut the crap! Do you think Vance knows it’s me?”
“I dunno. Should I tell him?”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“Because –”
Vance came through the door. Milly fell over herself to apologize. “Look, I’m truly sorry about all that!”
“About what?” Vance asked. “You did my sister a big favor. I’ve been trying to get her to leave that jerk for over a year. Can I buy you two a drink?”
“Uh...”
“It’s not a pick-up line. I own the place.”
“I know,” Milly said. I could almost feel her kick her own self in the butt.
“Oh. How did you...?”
“I told her,” I said, in an attempt to distract him. “I’ve been in a few times.”
“Oh yes. With that Mohawk girl. And a cute blonde. Milly, right?”
“Right.”
“Where’s she tonight?”
“She’s got a case of the Fluzinsky.”
Milly shot me a dirty look. Vance didn’t seem to notice.
“Listen,” he said. “I’m going to get us some drinks. What would you two like?”
“I’ll have a Tanqueray and tonic.”
“A Shirley Temple for me,” Milly said.
I bit my lip. I swore if she curtsied again, I would have to kick her in the butt myself. Vance left to get the drinks. I elbowed Milly.
“A Shirley Temple? Who are you?”
Milly shook her head in dismay. “Geeze, Val. At the moment, I don’t know. How do I look?”
“Don’t ask.”
Milly took out a compact and stared at her reflection. “Holy trailer trash, Batman!”
“What was that?” Vance asked. He held out our drinks.
“Uh...bad man!” Milly answered too loudly. “He was a bad man.”
Vince shrugged. “Harold’s not bad. He’s just a self-important blowhard. Owns a couple of car dealerships he inherited from his father. Now he thinks he’s god’s gift to the universe. Anyway, forget him. Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
Vince turned to Milly. “So, Marsha...Melloski, was it?”
Milly choked on her Shirley Temple. “Yes.”
“That was a very brave thing you did. I wish more people were like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Real.”
“Real?”
“Real enough to say what they really thought.”
“Well, that’s Marsha Melloski,” I chimed in. “Keeping it real!”
Vance grinned at me, then turned back to Milly. “So Marsha, would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
Milly nearly dropped her Shirley Temple. “Uh. No. Yeah. I mean. Sure.”
MILLY DROPPED ME OFF at my place. I stood at her window for a moment before I headed inside for the night.
“Well, we didn’t get a Date Buster call, but you managed to bust a date anyway. Smooth move, Ex-Lax.”
“Ha ha. Can it, Val. He didn’t ask me out. He asked out Marsha, the trailer-park princess.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s true. But he did say ‘Milly’ was cute.”
Milly brightened. “Yeah, he did. Hey Val, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Who the hell’s Honey Boo Boo?”
I shook my head. “You’re just gonna have to google it.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
IT WAS FRIDAY, MIDDAY, and an official meeting of the Date Busters was in full swing at the tiki hut in my backyard. We had two customers lined up for the night. Cold Cuts shook three toothpicks out of the container and broke two in half.
“Ready to draw lots for who’s on call tonight?”
“I’ve got a date with Tom tomorrow, so I’ll work tonight,” I said. “And Vance asked Milly on date tonight. So there’s no need to draw straws. It’s you and me, Cold Cuts.”
“Huh. Vance asked you out?” Cold Cuts asked. “And on Friday. An official date night.”
“What do you mean?” Milly asked.
“Well, if a guy asks you out for Friday or Saturday, he’s pretty interested. He’s not just looking for a little nibble-nibble, so to speak. Weekends are for the big fish.”
Milly raised one side of her lip as if it had a hook in it. “Why do I have to be a fish?”
Cold Cuts answered her question with a question. “What’s the venue?”
“I’m supposed to meet him at Crabby Dale’s.”
“So he’s meeting you at a beach dive. And he’s not even picking you up. Hmmm. Maybe it’s a nibble after all.”
“Well, aren’t all first dates nibbles?” Milly asked.
“You have a point,” Cold Cuts conceded.
“What do you think Vance really wants?” Milly asked.
“You’ll find out tonight, small fry,” I said. “Or should I say, Miss Melloski.”
“So who’s on the docket tonight?” Milly asked.
“Sharon again. And Nora,” Cold Cuts replied.
Milly looked shocked. “Nora has a date?”
Cold Cuts swaggered. “Don’t forget. I pimped her ride.”
“I’m confused. I figured Sharon fired us after that butt dial disaster,” I said.
“No,” Cold Cuts replied. “Just the opposite. She told everyone she knows. We’ve got three new ones on the line for Saturday night. Looks like there’s a lot of nibblers out there.”
COLD CUTS WAS A GENIUS. It had taken all afternoon, but it had been worth it. She’d transformed herself into a hip-looking man that didn’t even look repulsive. As for me? I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror, either. That was a good thing. Tonight, our disguises had to be perfect. Rather than waste time sitting around in the RV, we’d conspired to kill our free time by spying on Milly and Vance at Crabby Dale’s.
As we headed out from my place, Laverne saw us and did a double take. I waved and called her name. The surprise on her face said it all. She waved back and gave us a thumbs up. Yes! Our plan was to get to Crabby Dale’s early, so Milly wouldn’t get suspicious if we walked in. We arrived with twenty minutes to spare. We ordered a couple of drinks and tipped the waiter twenty bucks to reserve the booth across from us for a red-headed woman. He asked for her name, but we promised he wouldn’t have any problem recognizing her.
“Just look for a lady with a pile of red hair as big as a kitchen garbage bag,�
�� I’d said as he walked away to get our drinks.
“Twenty bucks? There goes our profit for the night,” Cold Cuts whined.
I grinned. “You know, I’m having fun in these getups.”
“You make a pretty good soccer mom, if I do say so myself.”
“Soccer mom? I thought I was a hipster like you.”
“I think you just proved you’re not.”
“That’s –”
Cold Cuts hit me on the arm. “Shh. She’s coming in.”
I sat stiff as a board and watched Milly tumble into the restaurant. Compared to us, Milly’s disguise looked rather slapdash. The flaming red hair was back, of course. But there was no tiara this time. She’d opted for a short denim skirt, a slinky silver top and an amazing pair of six-inch silver screw-me heels. She grabbed onto the waiter’s arm for support as he led her to the bait booth. He helped her in, then turned and winked at us. Milly looked at us and frowned. We jerked our heads back around to face each other.
Milly tapped her long, fake fingernails on the table for a minute, then got up. Crap. Maybe she’s spotted us. She was acting odd. She put her purse on the table, took a step forward, then stepped back and picked her purse up again. She repeated the action.
“What’s she doing?” Cold Cuts whispered.
“I think she can’t make up her mind about going to the ladies’ room. If she leaves, she might lose her spot. If she leaves her purse, she might lose, well, her purse.”
“Oh. Makes sense.”
Milly was still doing the toilet two-step when Vance came up behind her. She took a step backward and her spiked stiletto landed on top of Vance’s foot.
“Yow!” he said in a muffled howl. He grabbed his foot and hopped up and down.
Milly turned around. Her overly-made face nearly melted in horror. “Oh my lord! I’m so sorry, Vance! Are you okay? Do you need an ambulance?”
“No. It’s not...that bad.”
Vance tried to take a step and winced with pain. Milly helped him hobble into the booth.
“I am so sorry!”
“Stop apologizing. That’s what I get for sneaking up on you.”
I couldn’t tell if Vance smiled or winced after he said that. But he looked right at me and his eyebrows met. I looked back at Cold Cuts and held my breath. If I kept my mouth shut, maybe he wouldn’t recognize us. I touched my lip with my index finger to silence Cold Cuts. She got the message and clammed up. Our silent ploy worked. Vance turned back to face Milly...or should I say, Marsha Melloski.
“So, tell me, Marsha. “Are you Polish?”
“Huh?”
“Melloski?”
“Oh. Yes. Very Polish.”
Cold Cuts snickered. I felt my face heat up. Oh, come on, Milly!
Vance teased her. “So, just how Polish are you?”
“Polish enough to eat a kielbasa.”
Oh, no, Milly! I nearly groaned aloud. Cold Cuts actually did.
“So, I take it you’re hungry?” Vance asked.
“Like a feral cat.” Milly scratched the air with her tigress claw.
“Geeze!” I whispered to Cold Cuts. “No wonder she never gets a second date.”
“You wouldn’t be leading me astray, would you?” Vance said.
Cold Cuts kicked me under the table. “And now we know why he’s still single.”
“I’ve got something for you,” Vance said.
Cold Cuts and I turned our heads toward their table so fast I’m surprised we didn’t get whiplash.
“What is it?” Milly asked.
Her eyes looked so sexy and innocent at the same time I almost choked on my TNT.
“Can you believe –” I started. Then I felt something vibrate in my pocket. The Date Buster buzzer. I took it out and showed it to Cold Cuts.
“We have to roll,” she said.
Dang it! Things were just getting good.
Cold Cuts and I got up and walked normally toward the door. Once we were outside, we made a mad scramble for the RV. We’d parked it a block away down an alley so Milly wouldn’t see it. Cold Cuts and I jumped in, breathless. She turned the ignition. The engine sputtered to life, then died. She tried it again. Nothing.
“Crap! What are we going to do?” I asked.
“There’s only one thing to do. Use Milly’s car.”
“Are you crazy? She’ll know we were spying on her.”
“So what?”
Cold Cuts hopped out of the RV and sprinted for Crabby Dale’s. There was nothing for me to do but follow along.
When we got to the lot, Milly was standing by her car, fumbling in her purse for the keys.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Milly jumped. “Who are you?”
“It’s me, Val. And Cold Cuts. Are you okay?”
“What are you doing here? Were you two spying on me?”
Before I could think of a lie, Cold Cuts answered.
“Yeah.”
Milly started crying. She hobbled two steps toward me and fell into my arms. I hugged her as she spoke through tears and sobs.
“Vance wasn’t interested in me. He thinks I’m a floozy.”
“Aw. That’s not true,” I said.
Milly wailed. “He gave me a business card, Val. For image consulting. He said his sister wanted to give me a makeover. Can you believe that?”
I pulled Milly back to look her in the eye. Her face looked like a melted birthday cake. I frowned at her sympathetically.
“What a jerk!” Milly shouted. “I threw the card back in his face. You were right, Cold Cuts. I was just a nibble to him. Not a keeper.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
POOR MILLY. HOW COULD Vance have been so cruel to her? He was dog meat, and I wanted to ship him to China.
I was back at Publix, in the produce section – the same place I’d been accosted by that disgusting condom creep. I guess it was buy-one-slime-ball, get-one-free day. I spotted Vance over by the douches. I was not in the mood to deal with him. I wasn’t sure I could trust myself not to throttle him the way old Orange Whip had gotten to Goober.
I pushed my cart behind the end of an aisle and hoped Vance wouldn’t see me. When I thought the coast was clear, I peeked around the corner. He was standing right in front of me, all smiles and dimples and perfect teeth. I wanted to knock them out.
“Val! Hi! I’ve been hoping I’d run into you.”
I made a concerted effort to sound civil. “Me? Why?”
“Well, not you, exactly.”
“No? Then who?”
“This woman I met the other day. Marsha Melloski? Maybe you know her?”
“Maybe.” I clenched my teeth. “Why?”
“Could you tell her to come by the pub soon? She forgot something. Uh. That my sister wants to give her.”
I smiled icily. “Sure. I’ll let her know.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as he was out of sight, I called Milly with the news. She was livid.
“So he wants to see that floozy Marsha Melloski, does he?” Milly said acidly. “Well, if that’s what he wants, then that’s what he’s gonna darn sure get!”
MILLY WAS AT MY PLACE. She’d thrummed through the bags of clothes Laverne had picked out for me from the thrift store. She’d come up with a redneck doozy. They could have named a show after her. My Name is Pearl.
She flounced her tight-skirted behind into the chair by my vanity. “Make me extra trashy, Val. With a side of backlash.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, Milly?”
Milly hissed like a punctured blow-up doll. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“Okay. It’s your call.” I laid the shadow on thick and used up my tube of mascara. I teased her sassy red wig into a mountain of frizz. She turned toward the mirror to inspect my handiwork.
“Oh my word!” She cried out in a country twang. “You’re a bona-fide genius, Val! I couldn’t be trashier if I lived in a garbage can!”
“I’ve created a monster.”
“Ha ha! Wish me luck!”
Milly jumped up, grabbed her purse and disappeared out the door. I wished her luck, all right. But I think Vance was the one who was going to need it. I snapped the eyeshadow compact shut and heard a rap on the door. I opened it. It was Milly.
“My car won’t start. Can you give this monster a lift?”
“Sure.”
“WAIT HERE. I’LL BE right back.” Milly slammed Maggie’s heavy steel passenger door.
“It’s too hot to wait outside, Milly,” I grumbled.
“You’re right. Come on, then. But keep a low profile.”
I followed Milly, aka trashy Marsha Melloski, as she wobbled across the parking lot in heels that could, in the wrong hands, be classified as deadly weapons. I snuck inside Kelly’s Pub in back of her, then hid behind a fake palm tree by the hostess podium. I peeked out between the fronds. Funny. Even though Milly looked like Dolly Parton’s psycho-killer cousin, Vance appeared genuinely happy to see her. He hurriedly finished a conversation with a customer and walked up to her.
“Hi. I see Val gave you my message. I wasn’t sure she would.”
Milly tapped a heel impatiently and cracked her gum. “Why wouldn’t she? She knows she can’t compete with me.”
Vance looked puzzled. “What? Compete?”
“Sure, darlin’. I know what a man really wants. Poor Val hasn’t got a clue.”
Vance eyed Milly cautiously. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. You men just want a pretty woman on your arm and a floozy in the sack. Well, too bad. I’m not playing your game.”
A lightbulb went off over Vance’s head. He held out a hand in protest. “Oh. No. Hold on a minute. Let me explain.”
“I’ve been listening to men’s lame-ass explanations for waaay too long,” Milly twanged. “You’re kind is never satisfied. You want me to change to please you. I get it. I just came to say, ‘No Thanks.’”
“But Milly, I’m not asking you to change a thing.”
“Then why slap me in the face with that stupid image consulting card?”
“That was Annie’s idea. And it was for your business, not for you personally.”
Val Fremden Mystery Box Set 1 Page 63
