Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love)

by Liza O'Connor

  “Are you sure that’s my boss?” she asked.

  The lugubrious giant replied from his towering height, “I promise you, your boss is a big clown.” The crowd laughed.

  Tiny knelt in the chair, a ring the size of a dinner plate in his hands.

  Tall gave a low chuckle. “Tiny wishes to marry you.”

  Carrie smiled at the little fellow. “You are very kind, but no, thank you.”

  Tiny sighed and threw his arms over his head, causing him to fall out of the chair and then disappeared. A second later, Trent landed in his seat, no longer wearing the clown suit.

  “Let’s have a round of applause for the nice lady’s boss. Take a bow, Trent,” the giant ghoul demanded.

  Trent rose and waved at the cheering audience. All the good energy coming his way overwhelmed him. These people liked him now. All because of Carrie. They hadn’t liked him until she’d spoken up for him. He tugged Carrie from her seat and hugged her to his side. The crowd began to chant ‘kiss’. With white clown paint all over his face? Not a chance. So he shook his head and returned to his seat. On the stage, Tiny and the giant poised in a romantic embrace, with Tiny’s legs flapping in the air.

  When their moment of affection ended, Tiny and Tall disappeared then the stage went black.

  A soothing baritone announcer voice, which made him think of liquid chocolate, filled the auditorium. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize for the delay. Please put your hands together for the dynamic duo, Tall and Tiny.”

  Everyone stood, clapped and yelled as a seven-foot man and his four-foot partner walked onto the empty stage with a fishing pole, a pink plastic bucket, and a giant umbrella with a bull’s-eye painted on its canvas.

  They stopped center stage and waved at the crowd. Tall scratched his head. “Boy, whoever said New Yorkers are unfriendly hasn’t met you guys.”

  ***

  Fifteen minutes into the show, Trent yelled to Carrie over the cheering of the audience. “These guys are amazing!”

  Her eyes sparkled with joy as she nodded in agreement.

  Thank God, he’d picked the one she wanted most. Left on his own, he would’ve selected the other non-musical. No way political satire could outdo these two.

  Trent had no idea how they did any of their tricks.

  He gripped Carrie’s hand in his. If not for her, he would’ve never experienced any of this. Just being with her improved his life.

  When the lights came on for intermission, a woman rushed up to him. “How’d you disappear?”

  He smiled. “I have no idea.”

  “Where’d you go?”

  He thought he’d been under the stage, but he didn’t want to reveal any secrets. “Someplace dark.”

  A young man crowded in. “Seriously, you couldn’t tell where you were?”

  “Nope.”

  “You are so lucky,” a woman behind them said. “I’d pay anything to have my husband disappear.”

  Everyone chuckled at her statement, except for the angry man seated beside her. “Sit down, Alice,” he snapped.

  “It’s intermission. I can stand if I want to.”

  Trent winked at her in agreement.

  A woman further down shuffled up the aisle. “I hear some nights the dwarf catches the fish at the end of act one.”

  Carrie frowned. “He’s not a dwarf. He’s just small in size. And he caught a whale.”

  “Excuse me,” the woman stated and stormed off.

  The grumpy man looked up. “Some people don’t like the truth.” He focused on Trent. “You really don’t know how they made you disappear?”

  “I think cables were involved when they returned me as a clown, but I’ve no idea how they put it on me.” He turned to Carrie. “Which reminds me, I need to go to the men’s room and wash off the clown face.”

  Carrie smiled. “Your clown face disappeared with your clown suit.”

  He rubbed his cheek and studied his hand. “We need to hire these guys to make our slackers disappear.”

  * * * *

  The second act surpassed the first. However, when Tiny dumped a gallon jug of water into his bucket, Trent grew worried. While they promised not to throw anything on Carrie, he had garnered no such assurance for himself.

  “Oh no,” he groaned.

  Tall chased Tiny and his bucket around the stage, angry because water kept sloshing all over the place. Both of them slipped on the wet floor, resulting in amazing feats of acrobatics.

  At one point Tall held Tiny in one hand.

  “Tiny, I’m tired of carrying you. Stand on your two feet!” Tall ordered.

  The little man splashed him with more water from his bucket.

  “Then fall on your own.” He pulled his hand away and stepped back, yet Tiny remained suspended in the air.

  Tall seemed most baffled and waved his hands under and above Tiny as he walked around him. He scratched his head and shrugged. “Since Tiny refuses to get down and continue the show, you people should probably just go on home now.”

  Not surprisingly, no one stirred.

  “Seriously, folks, he’s one stubborn dude. You might as well go on home.”

  Everyone laughed.

  From his perch in the air, Tiny glared at Trent.

  “Don’t laugh. I’m serious.”

  That of course made Trent and everyone laugh harder.

  Carrie squealed, “Don’t do it!”

  Trent looked up to see a ferocious Tiny heaving his water bucket straight at him. Knowing the bucket held real water, he tried to rise to escape the area, but he didn’t have sufficient time to act. Instead, his action just meant he met the contents a bit sooner.

  Goodbye dinner reservation.

  He closed his eyes as something light and dry hit him. When he opened his eyes, sparkling glitter covered him.

  Damn it! He couldn’t go to Chelsey’s wearing glitter.

  He wanted to kill the little fellow, but forced a smile and tried in vain to brush the crap off. Having no luck, he waved at the laughing crowd and sat back down.

  Carrie immediately set about picking off tiny pieces of glitter. Soon Tiny and Tall joined her.

  Tall scowled at his partner. “You’ve caused enough trouble. Go on with the next skit while I repair your damage.”

  Tiny climbed onto the stage with help from an elderly lady in the front row. The little fellow then returned to the edge of the stage and offered Tall a giant blow torch he'd plucked from thin air.

  “Tiny just get on with the next act.” Tall looked at the audience. “Tiny will be performing our next magic act on his own, playing both my role and his. If all goes well, he will succeed in making himself disappear.”

  While the crew set up for the magic act and mopped the floor, Tall pulled out a vacuum cleaner hose from his suit jacket, had Carrie start it by swatting him on his rear-end, and began to vacuum the glitter from the suit. In order to do so, Trent had to stand and hold out his arms.

  Carrie helpfully pointed out missed glitter. Finally, Tall stepped back so the audience could see Trent. “How’s that.”

  They roared with laughter, including Carrie as she shook her head. Trent looked down and discovered his glittery crotch remained the only place Tall hadn’t vacuumed.

  He held out his hand for the vacuum, but Tall insisted Carrie do it instead. Red faced, she took the vacuum. God, he’d have an erection in front everyone if she touched him.

  “I’ll do it,” he snapped.

  Tall blocked her from giving it to him. “Her or me, those are your choices.”

  “Her,” Trent replied, fearing Tall might make his balls disappear.

  She pulled the fabric as far away from his balls as she could. and after two embarrassing minutes where Tall mimed an inaccurate but funny re-play of Carrie’s efforts, Trent’s crotch became a glitter free zone.

  The audience gave them another round of applause. However, when Carrie returned to her seat, Tall already occupied it. He patted his lap. Trent offer
ed her his seat, but Tall insisted he sit. “Now, pretty lady. It’s time to decide. His lap or mine?”

  Carrie didn’t hesitate. She sat on Trent’s lap to the audience’s happy cheers.

  Trent watched the final section of the show with the woman of his future, nestled in his lap.

  At the conclusion of another impossible ‘how’d they do it’ skit, the two men walked to center stage and took their bow. Tall then motioned to Trent and Carrie. “Let’s have a cheer for Trent and his lovely lady. They’ve been great sports, don’t you think?”

  The audience roared with approval, and it gave Trent such a rush. Approbation had been a rare commodity in his life. God, it feels good.

  When they left the auditorium, he smiled at the sight of Sam and his limo parked out front.

  They climbed inside. “Well done, Sam,” Trent said.

  “Thank you, sir. Fortunately, I did not wait for you to call before returning.”

  Like a punctured balloon, his sense of approval faded. “I apologize. Fifteen minutes ago, Tiny doused me with glitter then Tall and Carrie vacuumed me clean. Honestly, I had no idea when the end would arrive until they took their bow.”

  Carrie spoke in his defense. “It’s true, Sam. The magicians used Trent as their audience participant.”

  Sam sighed heavily. “I would have paid full price to see that.”

  Chapter 5

  Sam pulled the limo in front of the restaurant only five minutes past their reservation. Trent preferred arriving a half-hour late rather than be told to wait at the bar until his table became available. However, he refused to ruin his and Carrie’s happy mood with a scolding, so he let his driver’s mistake slide.

  Most people didn’t realize it, but he had to put himself in a bad mood before he could yell or threaten to fire someone. He liked his current mood much too much to bury it in anger.

  As they walked into the restaurant, Carrie tensed. He placed his hand on the small of her back and leaned down to whisper. “Relax. You look like a million bucks.”

  Her smile of gratitude warmed his heart.

  The maître d’ greeted him by name and led them to a corner table. Trent smiled. This ‘not a date’ was turning out better than he could have hoped. Being seated on time at Chelsey’s rarely happened. Soon a young waiter, barely out of diapers, arrived with their preordered wine, ready to tell them the menu for the day.

  Trent hated verbal menus, but Chelsey’s took pride in changing the offerings nightly. Thus, the waiters had to memorize ten appetizers, ten entrees, and ten desserts to rattle off to tired and hungry people.

  The young, perky waiter made it through the ten appetizers with lightening speed, so much so that Trent missed half of them. The fellow came to a halt after the fourth entrée. Panic filled his eyes. Grateful for the opportunity to end this nonsense, Trent asked, “Could you come back in ten minutes for our order?”

  The boy sighed with relief. “Yes, sir!” he said and darted off.

  Carrie tilted her head and studied Trent.

  “What?” While he prided himself on being able to read her mind, right now, he had no idea what thoughts bounced about in her head.

  “I had no idea you could be so pleasant.”

  Ouch. “Am I really so horrible?”

  She covered his hand with hers. “No. But you’re usually stressed and it causes you to channel your father.”

  He chuckled. “I remember the first time you used the phrase ‘channel my father.’”

  She grimaced and pulled her hand back. “Me too. You threatened to fire me.”

  He sighed. “You really pissed me off. Some fresh college graduate comes into my business, and tries to change everything, including how I manage my people.”

  Her hands appeared to be in a fight with one another. He reached over and quelled their movement. “Facing the possibility I did channel my father proved harder than you probably realized. To be honest, I worked my whole life trying to get the man’s approval, but I never made the grade.”

  “I bet you did, he just refused see it.” She met his eyes with great sincerity. “The first time you threatened to fire me, I didn’t look for a new job because I realized your heart wasn’t in the threat and I thought, and still believe, you have the makings of a great boss. You just need to fire your dad.”

  Trent laughed. “Good thing he’s dead.”

  He looked up at heaven, then changed his mind and looked down at his feet. “Dad, you’re fired. You never knew a damn thing about managing people…or your son for that matter. You have no influence on the new Trent Lancaster.”

  When he looked up, the young waiter stood beside him, his head tilted as if trying to see if someone resided under the table.

  Carrie buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with laughter.

  He smiled up at the waiter. “Tell us the menu.”

  The young man went through his list of appetizers and entrees perfectly. His eyes sparkled with accomplishment when he finished.

  “Well done! I’ll have the calamari appetizer and the braised lamb.” He tugged Carrie’s arm. “Want to come out of hiding and tell the young man what you wish to eat?”

  She uncovered her face and looked up. “I’ll also have the calamari appetizer and the salmon.”

  The young man wrote nothing down, only nodded and hurried off.

  “Did you scare him senseless by talking to your foot?” She burst into laughter again and could barely finish her point. “He didn’t even write down our orders.”

  Trent eyed her wine glass, barely touched. “I’d tell you to lighten up on the wine, if you had actually drunk any. After all the funny moments we’ve had tonight, I fail to see how firing my dad set you off.”

  Covering her mouth, she shook her head and held her hand palm out, which he interpreted as a silent plea to stop talking.

  He remained quiet until she’d calmed enough to remove her hand from her mouth.

  “Maybe I’ll channel Tiny now. He’d be one scary manager, crawling out of people’s wastebaskets and causing their porn and games to disappear from the computer.”

  Carrie re-covered her mouth, her eyes sparkled with such joy as she nodded.

  Half the diners side-glanced in their direction, being too well mannered to turn and stare straight on. Yesterday, Trent would have scolded her out of her humor just to stop them from staring, but being the sacrificial goat for Tall and Tiny had taught him not to fear attention in itself. She laughed quietly, nothing to annoy or disturb the others. If anything, Carrie’s laughter seemed contagious. The diners at the tables closest by also smiled.

  The waiter returned with a giant plate of lightly fried calamari resting in seasoned tomato sauce. “Would you like more wine?”

  Trent shook his head. “She’s still working on her first sip. In fact, the small amount missing may just be due to evaporation.”

  The young man brow furrowed slightly and he stared at the ceiling as if trying to figure out how the sun could evaporate the wine inside a building. Carrie burst into more mouth-covered laughing. Trent struggled not to join her.

  After the fellow left, he bit into a calamari ring. “Stop laughing and taste this,” he insisted as he fed her a ring.

  She sobered at once and scooted closer to him and the giant plate. “Aren’t appetizers supposed to tantalize appetite? This looks like a full blown meal!”

  “I think the waiter has fallen in love with your laugh. The last time I came here, they gave me a saucer with five rings on it.”

  She shook her head. “No, this is your doing.”

  He raised his eyebrows in challenge. “The waiter has fallen in love with my laugh?”

  She’d been about to hand-feed him in return, but he made her laugh causing the delicious morsel to wave about like a plane hitting turbulence. Trent captured her hand, led it to his mouth—and crossed a line.

  The moment his lips touched her fingertips in the sensuous act of consuming the calamari, she sobered
and pulled her hand to her lap. Her face flushed. “No, I meant…I mean…” She took a deep breath. “He appreciated you letting him go away and review the dinner list.”

  Damn it! He’d moved too fast and alarmed her. Deciding to ignore the moment, he nodded in agreement and fed himself another calamari.

  Two uniquely identifiable people entered the restaurant, causing everyone to stop and stare. Not even the über rich could resist gawking at two well-dressed gentlemen, one almost twice the size of the other.

  Tall had pulled his long black hair into a ponytail, while Tiny had gelled his frizzy orange hair enough to look respectable.

  Tiny spotted Carrie and said something to Tall. The giant looked over and smiled. He spoke to the maître d’, who frowned then left them at the front while he approached Trent.

  “Excuse me, sir, but those two gentlemen wish to join your table. Shall I tell them it is not possible?”

  “Oh, we’d love to have them!” Carrie replied.

  Knowing all too well which of them would pay the bill, the man waited for Trent to answer.

  His seduction efforts had just crashed and burned, so company sounded like an excellent distraction. “Bring them over.” He nodded at Tall and Tiny. Needing no further prompting, Tiny burrowed his way between the tables. Tall stared up at the ceiling and waited like a gentleman for the waiter.

  Naturally, Tiny climbed into the chair beside Carrie and kissed her hand. “I have missed you greatly, my dearest,” he declared in a refined British accent.

  Tall arrived, sat in the remaining chair and smiled at Trent. “Sorry for the invasion, but we grow weary of talking to each other.” He stared longingly at the calamari.

  Trent scooted the plate across the table between the two of them. “Please have the rest.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Carrie nodded. “If we eat anymore, we’ll have no room for dinner.”

  Tiny and Tall devoured the food like starving refugees. By the time the young waiter returned to tell them the menus, no calamari remained.

  “Just tell them the entrees,” Trent suggested.

  The waiter frowned.