by Amy Johnson
“OK, so Chase goes to the top of the list,” Megan said underlining his name three times. She also made a mental note to check Josie’s black book for his rating.
“And don’t forget Clint Waters,” Stacy said. “He was so fine, but he didn’t get around much.” She flipped through the W’s until she found him. “He was kind of shy but the girls he did sleep with started a support group when he moved. He’s back now, recently divorced, and looking like sex on a stick.” Everyone surveyed Stacy’s face and Megan checked to make sure her tea wasn’t spiked. “Hell, if I wasn’t married to Scott I’d have him on a plate with a side of mashed potatoes.” Megan reminded herself to stash Stacy’s keys.
“OK, Clint Waters, AKA Sex on a Stick, just took the #2 spot,” Megan said. “Now what about Derek James? What did everyone used to call him?”
“Motor mouth,” Josie supplied. “He used to do this thing with his lips that would leave you so breathless you’d need CPR to revive you.” She began demonstrating the task while Mickey tried to mirror her actions and Dr. Ross paid close attention. “But you don’t want him on the list.” Megan had already written his name down and she paused. “He’s let himself go; beer gut, scraggly hair, trailer park. Guess now his nick name is Motor butt, what with all the beer farts and all.”
Megan scratched his name off as Ali and Stacy let out “Eeyuww” shrieks and Dr. Ross laughed.
“Oh, let’s find Van Castillo. He was major backseat material,” Ali said and Josie and Mickey both shouted “Gay” at the same time.
“Hey, what about Travis McPhillips? Remember him? Wranglers, boots, belt buckle, and Stetson hat,” Josie said. “He used to tilt his cowboy hat, give that devilish grin, and wink at you with a look that said buckle up. We did it on the mechanical bull in his dad’s old warehouse and let me tell you, I definitely got more than an 8 second ride. Shit, I can’t even watch a rodeo on T.V. without my nipples getting hard.” She shivered. “If you do him, make sure you have plenty of singles.” Megan looked at her confused. “One dollar bills. He invented the Stetson Strip Tease; it’s kind of his trademark.” Megan quickly added his name, underling it twice and drew dollar signs next to it. A strip tease and a mechanical bull? Looks like Travis just tied Chase for first place.
By around mid-night the party was winding down. Megan had her list of fantasy sex candidates, Mickey had a full drag makeover, Stacy had an empty bottle of Tequila, Josie had plans to play doctor, and Ali called Bill for phone sex. All in all, it had been an exciting night.
Megan went outside and let the dogs in, cuddling them close before filling their bowls with dog food and went in the living room to check on Spot. His water was still clear, so apparently nobody had emptied their beer in his bowl in an attempt to get him drunk, although there was a beer cap floating like a little fish raft at the top of the bowl. She dumped some food in his bowl, blew him a kiss and went upstairs to brush her teeth. Josie came in the bathroom a moment later.
“Meg, you mind if I split?” Josie was going through Megan’s lipsticks, opening each one, extending it all the way out and then closing them. “I think everybody else is staying.”
“No, go ahead. You had plans tonight anyway. Have fun.”
“He’s pretty great huh?” Uh oh, Josie never looked at guys as being great. She looked at them like they were lunch and once the hunger was gone so were they.
“Yeah, he seems sweet.” So sweet, he didn’t stand a chance next to Josie.
“I really like him.”
“Josie, you just said the L word. You like this guy?”
She smiled and looked up thoughtfully, “I did huh? Wow. I must really be drunk, but yeah he’s…different from other guys. He’s more…”
“Conservative? Law abiding? Disease Free?”
Josie seemed to ponder each attribute and said, “He’s just…I don’t know, but he’s something. Anyways, we’re going to go to his place. He has his Doctor’s bag there. We’re going to play Gynecologist.” Josie gave Megan a quick peck on the cheek, threw her bag over her shoulder, and took off. Megan turned back to the mirror shaking her head. She gave her teeth one last final scrubbing in honor of her mother, spit and rinsed, and crawled into her bed.
Chapter TwelveSaturday was a beautiful morning. The sky was overcast with a slight breeze, the leaves falling off the trees in slow motion. It was something you’d see on a post card, autumn morning, serene and quiet. Megan was snug in her bed, the covers pulled up to her chin, Bitty and Bug possessively on either side of her. If the damn phone would quit ringing she’d be in heaven. She rolled to glance at the clock on the night stand, the big red letters telling her it was 6:30. What kind of person called at 6:30 on a Saturday? Her mother. Or Ted. She let the machine pick it up; she could call her mother back and Ted…well never mind Ted. If Ted was so lonely, he could call Tiffany Triple D.
The phone rang again. She put her pillow over her head and hummed the Star Spangled Banner. It stopped as the machine got it and then almost instantly it rang again. She crossed her eyes and sang ‘I’m a Little Tea Pot’. It continued to ring. She was just about to get up and get the damn thing when Mickey filled her doorway carrying the cordless. He fell face down on her bed, his feet hanging off about a foot, and handed her the phone. “It’s for you,” he mumbled and instantly fell back asleep.
“Who is it?” She asked and got a grunt and a snore for an answer. She tapped his shoulder and asked again and he batted her hand away and put the pillow over his head. “Mickey?” she whispered and he, keeping the pillow over his head, reached one hand out and pushed her off the bed. She hit the floor with a thud and retrieved the phone from where it had fallen under the bed.
“Hello?” she said and was greeted with Jack’s sexy voice, perky as hell.
“Rise and shine boss.”
“Boss? This mean you’re going to take the job?” she asked standing up and taking the phone with her to the bathroom. Her black eyes were now purple and she had bed head. Well at least she was still beautiful on the inside right?
“I have a few conditions but if you agree, yeah, I’ll take it. What was that noise, you fall out of bed?”
“No, I have a drag queen in my bed.”
“You’re an interesting woman, Megan Malone.” She could hear him smiling. No one in their right mind smiled before eight o’clock in the morning.
“So I’ve heard. What are these conditions?”
“Well first it’s going to cost you.” She’d figured that much.
“Alright. What else?”
“How many guys we looking for?” He tried to keep his tone light even though he was grinding his teeth so hard he had shards of enamel on his tongue.
“About eight or ten, give or take.” Unless he found Chase or Sex on A Stick first.
“Well, I work by myself and this is a big job so if you want these guys found before Haley’s Comet comes back I’m going to need some help.”
“Okay,” Megan said carefully. What was she supposed to do, run an ad in the newspaper? ‘Wanted, PI assistant to help find high school sex legends for lonely, bored, inexperienced divorcee.’ Yeah, that would set well with her mother. “So?”
“So, the only way I’m going to do this is if you help me.” She was already protesting when he said, “You probably want to check these guys out first anyway. Kind of window shop ‘em, before you decide to make a purchase. We’ll start today. Be ready at 0700 hours.” Dammit Jack, it was too early for math.
“I can’t. I have to, uh…” Wash her hair? Scrub the tile grout? Electrocute herself?
“Work. I have to work today. Yep, really busy day at work.”
“You work? Doesn’t matter. Look, I’m putting other cases on hold for you,” he lied. “Call in sick today. I’ll be there at 0700 if you want me to do it. If not, that’s fine too.” He tried to feel guilty about doing this to her, but couldn’t.
“You have to do it. If you don’t, I’ll have you thrown in jail. You burglarized Ted�
�s studio and I witnessed it…”
He’d thought of that already. “No, I burglarized his brother’s studio and you can’t prove it. First of all I didn’t steal anything and secondly I wore gloves. And you were drunk by the way; the police will think you were hallucinating.”
“My mother saw you. They’d believe her,” Megan argued.
“Maybe. But do you think your mother is going to want all the neighbors to know that she had to rescue her drunk daughter from humping a burglar? That would be front page news in Parker Point. It would be quite scandalous.”
He had a point. “Well, still you can’t blackmail me into doing this with you,” she snapped, furious at herself for not thinking this through more carefully.
“Why not?” She was feisty as hell at 6:30 in the morning, Jack thought. Now if she could just redirect that energy into something sinful with him… “Isn’t that what you’re doing to me? Blackmailing me? That’s illegal too, Megan.”
He had another point. She hadn’t thought of that. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“Who’s first on your list?” he asked smiling. This was going to be fun.
“Chase Kilborne, Travis McPhillips or Clint Waters,”
Good, he knew Chase. “I’ll get started running those names. Be ready at 7:00 and bring your list.”
“Yeah, sure.” Shit. How had this happened? This wasn’t the way it was supposed to work. He was supposed to find them and what? Bring them to her? Like a pimp? Maybe his plan was better. Window shopping he’d called it. Then she could approach them where it wasn’t so obvious. Maybe keep her reputation from going from zero to slut in six seconds. “But first I have to go rent a truck. Mickey and Dr. Ross are going to load it with Ted’s stuff this morning. He’s supposed to get out of the hospital today and I want him gone.” Maybe, she added silently. Ten years was a long time and the way her life had been the past couple days, her monotone, miserable marriage to a pot smoking, cradle robber wasn’t looking as bad as it had yesterday. Of course that was before she’d been kissed so well she forgot her first name and made her list of tutors to help her with the horizontal mambo.
“Okay, I’ll take you to get the truck. Be ready in half an hour,” Jack said then cut the connection.
***
Jack arrived about forty five minutes later, dressed in black and looking like a rugged GQ reject. His dark Levi, button fly jeans fit snug and he wore a black tee shirt that fit tight enough to make Megan squeeze her knees together. His thick, black hair was wet and looked finger combed and he hadn’t shaved since she’d seen him last night so his jaw and chin were slightly stubbled, which gave him a rustic Bruce Willis kind of look. He looked dangerous and sexually lethal and when Megan opened the door and came face to face with those almond shaped brown eyes for a moment she was dizzy. He smiled and she held her breath. Either he hadn’t ever looked this…dashing and…lustful or she’d never really looked at him before because the man standing in front of her was spectacular. Or maybe it was just all the beer from last night. Either way, today was going to be dangerous. And Exciting.
“You ready?” he asked, but Megan hadn’t heard him. She’d been staring at his lips from the moment he parted them to speak. He asked again, “Megan, you ready to go?”
“Yep, sure, let me get my purse.” She grabbed her purse from the coat rack and took a moment to catch her breath. Either she was going to have to swear off beer forever or do something to tame her hormones. When she was getting squishy over a thug, a guy that was probably voted most likely to end up in orange overalls and a jail cell, it was definitely time to make a drastic change.
But the funny thing was Jack didn’t seem like a criminal. Aside from the fact that he unlawfully entered Ted’s Studio- which for all Megan knew was something PIs did all the time- there was no indication that he was a bum. No tacky, jailhouse tattoos protruding from his shirt sleeves or house arrest devices on his ankles. Hell for all she knew he could be an upstanding fine citizen that volunteered in nursing homes and charity events. She turned around to see him melting her with those eyes. Maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe she’d try to change that.
“Ok, let’s go,” she whispered, so she wouldn’t wake everyone up.
They made it down the driveway and he opened the passenger door on his Jeep for her, and once she was inside he shut the door. Well if he was a criminal at least he had good manners. Her mother would like that.
“So how big a truck we need?” he asked, in his usual all business tone.
“Whatever a hundred bucks will get us.” He looked at her and grinned. “See, we always agreed to only spend a hundred dollars on each other for our anniversaries and since next week will be our tenth I figure I’ll give him his freedom for a gift. And since I can’t put a price on freedom I’ll splurge the hundred on a truck.” She laughed and he kept his eyes on the road to avoid looking at her. Lead with your head, not your heart he told himself. She continued, “Anything that doesn’t fit in the truck I’ll throw in the yard and have a yard sale. I mean, after all he gets Tiffany Triple D. I might as well make a buck or two.”
“Tiffany Triple D?” he asked just so she’d keep talking and he could hear her voice.
“Yeah, that’s what I call his infant girlfriend because of her…,” she held her hands out cupping an enormous imaginary chest. “Did you know she’s only nineteen?”
“Yeah, but she looks older.”
“I guess,” she said wanting that subject to drop. “So how long have you been a private investigator?”
“About four years. Actually I used to help my grandpa before he died. I kind of inherited his clients and I like the work, so I guess you could say I picked up where he left off.”
“He was a PI here?” Megan had obviously lived a sheltered life. She thought PIs were only in big cities or on T.V. screens.
“Yep, for thirty-five years. He mostly worked for lawyers and consulted for the law enforcement agencies, but there’s always the occasional cheating spouse or suspicious fathers. What about you? What do you do?”
She blinked. No one knew she worked. “I maintain the household. Ted never let me have a job, so I don’t have one yet. I plan to get one though.”
“On the phone you said you had to work today.” She had? Shit. She could lie but he’s a private investigator, he could find out anyway.
“Oh that,” she waved a hand as if to minimize it. “Promise you won’t laugh?” He looked at her and smiled, then nodded his head. “I write a sex column.” His eyebrows rose and he did he best to hide his smile. “Well, it’s more of a relationship advice column but there’s a fair amount of smut involved. People send in questions and then my editor emails the good ones to me. Then I write the column and email it to my editor and that’s it. I don’t even have to leave the house.”
“And Ted doesn’t know?”
“Nope, no one knew except for the girls until last night. I told my mom but I doubt she believed me. She thinks I’m taking drugs or going crazy.” The crazy part was not far from the truth.
“So let me get this straight,” Jack said. “You write a sex column, but you believe you lack experience in the area and that’s why you want to find these guys from high school?” He pulled into the U-Haul parking lot and killed the engine, turning his body sideways to face her. She was fidgeting with her hands again obviously embarrassed or nervous about the conversation.
“I know it sounds silly,” she said seeing the irony in it, “but it’s easy to fix other people’s problems. From the outside looking in it’s always easier. Plus, I always consult with the girls first. We meet every Thursday night and discuss the topics.” He seemed to be completely focused on her and she liked that. It had been a long time since someone actually listened to her with that type of intensity. Either that or he was mesmerized by the spectrum of colors on her face from her bruises and black eyes. “And the sex questions are easy. Josie knows everything about anything wild or kinky, Mickey consults on
the homosexual stuff, Ali’s a newlywed, so she pretty much handles the romance junk and Stacy…well she’s no help in that department. Mickey says she’s Asexual, which to him means boring.”
“Sounds very interesting,” he said opening his door.
“It is,” She said, but not interesting enough.
***
It was almost nine when they got back to the house and everyone was still sleeping except for Ali, who was making omelets and coffee. Josie had called and let them know that she and Dr. Ross were on their way to start loading the truck. Mickey came stumbling down the stairs in a slinky purple night gown that hit him mid-thigh, and purple fuzzy slippers. His hair standing on end, he was missing a fake eyelash, and his cheek was red from sleeping on it. He looked like a used Q-tip, with feet. “Coffee,” was all he said before disappearing into the kitchen.
“He’s not a morning person,” Megan explained to Jack.
“Guess not,” Jack said because he didn’t know what else to say.
“Let me get Stacy up and we can have coffee and get the boxes outside.”
“I’ll back the truck up to the house,” Jack said flipping the keys in his hand. He turned to leave when a breathless Josie came barreling in the front door with Dr. Ross right behind her. “Sorry we’re late,” she said, “we had an uh busy morning.”
By the smiles on her and the good doctor’s faces that was the understatement of the century. “All we need is coffee and we’ll be ready.” She made for the kitchen and stopped. “Oh Meg, Jon called in today…”
“Jon?” Meg asked and Josie looked at her like she’d just eaten a canary.
She grabbed Dr. Ross’s shoulder, “Jon, Dr. Jon Ross,” Megan nodded, “So anyway he called the hospital to check on his patients this morning and get this, seems Ted has developed some, uh, digestion problems. Seems he’s got a mega case of the shits.” Megan’s eyes grew wide, her mouth hung open. “Yeah, and that’s not the worst part of it, he’s got like a major case of the munchies too, eating everything in sight.”
