Perfection: A Neighbor From Hell Novel

by R. L. Mathewson

  "She doesn't have a clue," he said, smiling when his wife leaned down to give Brad's three year old daughter a hug and a kiss.

  "You realize you're going to have to watch my kids next month so that I can take Haley away, don't you? After she finds out about this little romantic trip of yours she's going to twist my arm into taking her to a tropical island," Jason pointed out as he flipped a few burgers.

  Trevor chuckled. "Like she really has to twist your arm into taking her someplace where she'll probably lounge around in a bikini all day."

  "Good point," Jason said, chuckling.

  "What's so funny?" Haley asked as she slid her arms around Jason.

  "Nothing, my little grasshopper," Jason said, leaning down to kiss his wife.

  "Trevor, can you give me a hand?" Zoe asked, taking his hand and giving it a little tug.

  "Sure," he said, placing his beer on the table.

  As they walked towards the garage he put his arm around her, wondering how he was going to convince her to wear a bikini during their trip and how to get her to take it off, he thought with a smile.

  "What do you need help with?" he asked, holding the door to the garage open for her. "Did Haley need us to grab beers or something?"

  Zoe nibbled her bottom lip as she reached back and locked the door with a loud click. "No," she said, already reaching for him and he gladly went to her, "I'm in need of our arrangement."

  "I guess I can help with that," he said, walking her backwards until her back hit the wall.

  "You're a very considerate guy," she said teasingly.

  "Exactly."

  For a sneak peek at the next:

  A Neighbor From Hell novel, where two neighbors, childhood enemies truly live up to the series title.........

  A peek at the 3rd installation of A Neighbor From Hell series

  Chapter 1

  "Come on, come on, come on," Rory mumbled as she waited for the only traffic light in town to turn green. Just as it did she sighed with immense relief which ended abruptly when Mrs. Church, Golden, New Hampshire's oldest citizen, took the green light as the signal to walk across the street using her walker.

  Her eyes shot to the dimly lit clock in her dashboard and whimpered. She was five minutes late! She could not be five minutes late. Not today. Normally it would just irritate her, but today it felt like it was a matter of life or death. She needed Mrs. Church to haul her ninety-six year old ass across the street before the light turned red.

  Rory tapped her thumbs against the steering wheel as she stared intently at Mrs. Church in an effort to will the old woman to move quickly. It only seemed to draw Mrs. Church's attention. The older woman stopped right in front of Rory's new, well new to her, Jeep and smiled and waved at her.

  Fighting back the urge to gesture for the older woman to move her ass, Rory forced a smile and waved back. After a few seconds Mrs. Church slowly turned back around and raised her walker, set it a few inches in front of her and shuffled. Rory watched as she raised the walker again, gained six move inches and shuffled.

  The light turned red.

  She groaned as Mrs. Church turned and sent her another friendly wave. Rory debated getting out of the car and helping her, but she knew that would only encourage Mrs. Church to stop in the middle of the street and brag about her great grandchildren.

  All thirty-four of them.

  Two red lights and three green lights later Mrs. Church was safely across the street and Rory was gunning it. Two minutes later she was in front of McGill's main office on Center Street, waiting for a minivan full of kids driven by a woman who looked like she was going to snap if she heard "The wheels on the bus goes round and round" one more time to pull out of her spot.

  As she waited for the van to pull out Rory put on her left blinker, officially declaring her claim on the spot while she took the opportunity to calm her breathing. It probably wouldn't look professional to go in there sweating and panting like a woman who needed a cocaine fix, although she really could go for a large cup of hot cocoa, her one true weakness.

  Hmmm, she really could go for a nice large mug of hot creamy hot chocolate with a large spoonful of fluff in it. Yummy, maybe after this she could-

  Her thoughts were cut off when she realized her spot was free and clear. Sighing contently, Rory started to turn into the spot when a black pickup cut her off and took the spot.

  Rory could only stare for a moment, shocked that someone had ignored the universally agreed upon parking spot rule of the blinker. Perhaps he didn't see her blinker?

  All thoughts about this being a simple mistake flew out of her head when he stepped out of the truck. She ground her jaw as she pressed the "down" button for the passenger window. Once it was down she politely asked the bane of her existence to move his truck.

  "Move your ass, O'Neil! That's my spot!"

  The bastard smiled. Smiled!

  "Oh, is this your spot?" he asked, feigning innocence, but Rory knew the man was anything but innocent. He was a bad boy, even his looks gave him away, and that damn smile of his let him get away with everything.

  The life ruining bastard!

  "Yes!" she snapped. "You know damn well that's my spot! Why else would I have been sitting here waiting with my blinker on?"

  He sighed dramatically. "Yes, I did see that now that you mention it."

  "Then move!" she said, not caring about playing their usual game of pissing each other off. She had a huge contract to sign, damn it!

  He nodded as he fixed his tie and leaned into the cab of his truck. Rory tapped her thumbs against the steering wheel once again happy that the man had enough sense to skip the bullshit this morning. Maybe today would be-

  "I'll move it," pausing as he stepped away from his truck with a folder in his hand and shut his door, "right after my meeting."

  Her mouth dropped as the life ruining bastard walked away laughing.

  *************

  "Ah, good times," Shia sighed happily as he stepped into the office. Taunting a woman shouldn't be so much fun, but it was. It always had been where Rory was concerned. Hell, he'd even enjoyed screwing with her back in preschool.

  Sure there were about a dozen other little girls he could have tormented with paint, paste and pushed down into the mud, but why bother when there was always little Rory James around? She was just asking for it with those two little pigtails, tomboy clothes, and the little know-it-all attitude. As the school bully it had been his job to make her life a living hell and he had taken his job quite seriously all those years ago. Hell, he still did.

  There was just something about screwing with her that brought a smile to his face. That was probably why three years ago he bought the run down house right next to hers. Sure there were other fixer-uppers he could have bought for half the price, but none of them would have provided him with the entertainment of living right next door Rory.

  He ran a hand over the back of his head, smoothing down his hair as he headed towards the little blushing secretary that was trying to pretend she wasn't watching his approach.

  "Good morning, Mary, how are you this morning?" he asked in his most charming voice.

  She nodded, shyly averting her eyes. "Mr. McGill will be with you in a few minutes, Mr. O'Neil. Please have a seat and help yourself to some coffee," she mumbled quietly while she gestured to the small waiting area with three chairs against the wall and a gourmet coffee table that held one of those insanely expensive coffee machines that used mini cups of ground coffee to make single cups.

  Shia winked. "Thank you." He walked over to the waiting area and decided a good cup of coffee would help settle his nerves, not that he doubted he was getting the job. There was no doubt he would get it this time. He'd put in the time and had his work to back him up. No one within a hundred miles could match the price. This job was as good as his.

  He was reaching for a single cup serving of gourmet French vanilla coffee when a single brown serving cup caught his eye. Picking it up, he couldn't
help but smile as he held the last serving of gourmet hot chocolate in his hand. Not that he was particularly fond of hot chocolate, he really wasn't, but he knew a certain someone that was.

  A minute later he was sitting down with a cup of frothy hot chocolate. Not as good as coffee, but not too bad. He sat down, placing his folder on the empty chair next to him while he sipped his beverage.

  He didn't even bother trying not to chuckle when Rory half stumbled into the reception area and made a beeline to Mary's desk almost falling over seven times in the process. Why she tried to walk in those high heels he would never know. She was already tall, taller than most women in town and a good majority of the men at five-ten. He was not one of them since he had a good five inches on her. She really didn't need the heels, but he rather liked what they did for those beautiful tan legs of hers. Although, he would never admit that she looked good, really good, in that little business outfit that accentuated her size D's, and he would bet his life they were D's, and the high heels that she clearly didn't know how to walk in. Not that he would ever tell her.

  He noticed she wore a little bit of makeup today, interesting. She looked good, but then again she always looked good. He especially liked her hair. Always had even when it used to be pulled up into pigtails. There was just something about wavy caramel hair with natural golden blonde highlights with those sky blue eyes that drove him nuts.

  Shia watched as Mary informed her that Mr. McGill was running behind and gestured for her to sit in the waiting area. Rory didn't look happy about the wait, but she looked decidedly pissed off seconds later when she spotted him. Her eyes narrowed on him as she walked, stumbled, over to the complimentary table all while glaring at him.

  Shia sipped his cocoa, watching as Rory searched for her precious hot chocolate.

  "Mary, is there any hot chocolate?" the little addict asked, sounding anxious for a fix.

  "Sorry, hun, if it's not there then we don't have it."

  Sighing, she nodded and carefully walked the ten steps over to the waiting area only to stop abruptly and glare at him.

  "Is something wrong, Rory?" he asked, acting as if he didn't know what had her panties in a bunch.

  "You're sitting in the middle," she bit out.

  He made a show of looking down at where he sat and then at each chair beside him. "Hmm, look at that so I am," he mused.

  "Move." She gestured impatiently at him.

  Sighing he took a sip of his drink. "Nope," he said, making the word pop.

  "Nope?"

  "Nope."

  Rory glared at him, then at each empty chair before looking around desperately for another chair. When she couldn't find any means to distance herself from him, which he knew she was dying to do, she sat down as far as she could in the chair to his right.

  Sighing loud and long to annoy the shit out of her, he stretched his right arm out and then dropped it along the back of her chair.

  "Do you mind?" she asked, looking pointedly at his arm.

  He shook his head. "No, not really."

  She opened her mouth, probably to tell him off for the millionth time, shut it and shook her head muttering, "I don't have time for games today."

  That was too bad, because he rather enjoyed their little battles. He made a show of sipping his drink. "Mmmm, that's good cocoa."

  Rory first glared at him then at his cup.

  "You took the last hot cocoa?"

  "Uh huh," he answered, taking another sip.

  She nodded slowly. "I see."

  "I'm sure you do."

  Just as he went to take another sip of that rather creamy cup of hot cocoa that tasted better and better by the second, she jabbed him in the side hard with a finger the same time she made a grab for his cup. He tried to pull the cup away, but she just dug that damn finger harder into his side.

  Shit! That really hurt!

  Deciding that it was better to give up the cocoa than to let her make his eyes tear up, he released the cup. Rory twisted her finger harder into his side, digging deep for good measure before backing off. Glaring at her, he rubbed his side while she happily sipped his cocoa.

  Damn, there were a lot of things in life he regretted and right now showing her that little trick in sixth grade when she wouldn't let him cut her in the lunch line was one of them. He winced as he rubbed the spot. Well, it looked like she'd perfected that move.

  "I spit in that you know," he lied.

  She simply shrugged when most women would have probably screeched, gagged, and shoved it back at him. Not Rory James. She made a show of taking a huge sip of the cocoa.

  "I think I've been immune to your germs since the ninth grade," she pointed out, making him smile.

  Ah, good times. For six months he'd found ways to spit in her food and drinks without her and her little band of geeks, nerds, and dorks finding out about it. His friends of course did their part by distracting her so he could break into her locker and of course take pictures of the act.

  On her birthday he'd placed all those lovely pictures into a small box, gift wrapped it, and placed it in her locker. Then he leaned against the locker across from hers and waited with all his friends and half the school for her to open it. Everyone watched as she opened her locker, waiting for her reaction. She first looked surprised at finding the present in her locker and of course that to turned horror as she flipped through the pictures. She couldn't hide that little gag sound she made.

  Everyone laughed.

  He remembered standing there cocky as hell, waiting for her to finally react like a girl and cry. Instead she calmly put the pictures back in the box, gagged louder, and returned it to her locker. She grabbed the lunch that he and all his friends spit in, hey it was her birthday after all, and walked over to him.

  Instead of crying and screaming at him or even threatening to tell her daddy and her rather large brothers she kneed him in the balls and when he was down on the ground she forced half her lunch down his throat while his friends fell over themselves, laughing their asses off, but it had been worth it. Even the month of detention that followed couldn't take away the joy he received from that little prank.

  "Mr. O'Neil? Miss. James? He's ready for you."

  ********

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  www.rlmathewson.com