it Happened Last Wednesday (The Zelda Diaries Book 1)

by Olivia Gaines

  “Thank you, Zelda. I feel somewhat uncomfortable. You know, almost naked without my Pip dress,” Persephone said.

  “I picked out a few nice guys who aren’t married or too weird that I interviewed today. Hopefully, with any luck, you will choose one to help you get that way, I mean, if that is still what you want,” Zelda said.

  “Not sure anymore. I am not sure of anything anymore,” Persephone told her.

  “Then you and I walk in together and we leave together,” Zelda told her.

  Nervously Persephone smiled as Zelda offered her an arm to escort her into the room. The large spotlight which shone on every person entering the room didn’t really help the situation either. They presented their tickets at the door to the host, who looked up their assigned table.

  “Ms. Fitzsimmons and Ms. Phillips, you are at Table 2 with Mr. Berger,” he told them. Two handsome young men dressed as footmen on Cinderella’s coach walked over to escort them to their seats.

  Scott, sitting alone at a table set for 8, rose as they approached. His splotchy, acne-pocked skin didn’t look as greasy tonight. He radiated refinement in his tuxedo, especially without the glasses. As thick as the glasses were, it was doubtful that he could see them at all without them on, but Zelda didn’t care. Oddly, her heart skipped a beat when she saw him.

  “Shit,” she mumbled under her breath. Her mind was already made up. All he had to do was toe the line and she would be his tonight. She softly spoke, to him as much to herself, hoping and praying that he didn’t do anything ridiculously dumb to ruin his clear path to opening her treasure chest. “Please don’t screw this up.”

  “I won’t,” he said to her.

  “You heard me?”

  “My vision is bad, but there is nothing wrong with my hearing,” he said as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “You look stunning.”

  “Thank you,” she said, taking the offered seat to his left. He gave the same greeting to Persephone, with a light kiss on the lady’s cheek as he seated her to his right. As his table began to fill, she noticed the placement of the guests at his table. To Zelda’s left was another woman, but to Persephone’s right was one of the young men she had picked out for her new friend. One other young man, she had considered but dismissed sat next to the woman at her left. Zelda dismissed him because he seemed too aware and too practiced for someone like Persephone. True, he could probably give her a very hot evening, but he would also break her heart without even trying.

  “She should have the choice of a bad boy and a good one. My bet is that she goes with the bad boy I chose over the good guy you picked,” Scott said, leaning down as if he dropped something.

  Zelda’s eyes stayed forward on the guest at his table when she responded. “You misunderstand and underestimate women,” she responded.

  “No, you misunderstand what it is she wants. You picked the guy a woman would choose for a relationship. I picked the guy she would pick for a night,” he said, looking at her out the side of his eye.

  She couldn’t help it, she had to ask since the door was open. “And which of those options would make me choose you, Scott Berger?”

  “Easy,” he said with a smirk. “I am a conundrum. You have the best of both worlds with me.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes. I will give you the night you want, cuddle with you afterward, and call you tomorrow. A guy like me will make certain you want to see me again and put myself in a position to give you options to make that happen,” he said.

  The room filled with guests as each empty seat held a body at one of the many round conference room tables. Chance took to the head table, sitting on the dais and clicked with a fork a small crystal glass doll which turned all eyes in the room on him. The event organizer started with an opening speech of which Zelda heard not a single damned word as her eyes wandered over to Scott’s lap.

  “My eyes are up here,” he said without moving his mouth.

  “Your ventriloquism is pretty good. What else are you good at doing without moving your mouth?” she asked then clapped her hand over her own lips. “I can’t believe I just said that!”

  “Don’t worry. I’m yours tonight either way unless I screw it up. Which I have no intention of doing,” he said to her.

  “Really? You are all mine tonight?”

  “If you want me, Zelda, I can see being yours for the rest of my life,” he said with intensity in his eyes.

  Zelda gulped hard. He’d also said that without moving his mouth. He threw his voice right into her ear, followed by a deep, lusty, sexy sigh that reverberated all the way down to her toes.

  “Damn,” she said. “You are good.”

  “And you, my lovely lady, are spectacular,” Scott said, focusing his attention back on the stage.

  I can’t just sleep with him.

  I need to get to know something about him.

  What makes him tick?

  Do I care what makes him tick?

  I really just want a night under those muscles and intense gaze.

  Those teeth though. I can’t kiss a bucked tooth man.

  That skin.

  Stop being shallow, those are all external. It is not who he really is. Look at the man. Stop looking at his face with those big ole bushy eyebrows. I’d bet every woman who sees him judges him by his looks.

  Stop it.

  She’s talking to you.

  Nod.

  Smile.

  I have no idea what in the hell she just said.

  That is a nice bump in his pants.

  What if he is hung like a bear?

  Hell, he may be as a hairy as a bear. Do you see his hands? They look like paws.

  Stop being so damned picky. You want some hot sex tonight or not? He looks like he could get it done, plus he probably won’t tell anybody about it.

  Are you going to sleep with him or not?

  I want to.

  Then do it.

  I bet those bucked teeth will do a job if he went down...

  “I can almost hear your thoughts,” Scott said in a low voice. “Are you done with the conversation in your head?”

  “Excuse me? I have no idea what you are talking about,” Zelda said innocently.

  “Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it, or we can sneak out of here, go over to the bar, and have a drink, and you can ask me all of those questions that are running through your head,” he said.

  “You are funny,” she said, trying to play it off.

  “I want you to be at ease with me. Let your guards down; let me in so we may enjoy each other’s company,” he said.

  “And if I desire for our conversation to end after dinner with me going to my room and you to yours?”

  “Then you will miss my infamous wicked dance moves,” he said. “I have a whole lot of rhythm. Plus I was looking forward to dancing with you to show you how well you and I can move together,” he told her.

  Zelda watched the bushy eyebrows sitting on his forehead like two hibernating caterpillars, half expecting him to wag them up and down, but he didn’t. She waited for some snarky, overly sexual innuendo to follow, but there wasn’t one.

  She sat.

  She waited.

  Scott ate his dinner.

  “I’m waiting for you to say something really wrong to kill all of this,” she told him.

  “Nope,” he said and smiled. “This chicken isn’t half bad for hotel food. I appreciate a really moist piece of chicken.”

  Zelda crooked her finger, asking him to lean over so she could whisper in his ear. She ignored the hair in his earlobe and said exactly what was on her mind, what she wanted from him, and how she would like him to deliver it to her. She leaned back in her seat, back straight, and cut into her chicken.

  “Will do,” he said and continued to eat. “I would like to answer some of those questions first, though, just to make sure you understand who you are with and where I am coming from.”

  “Seriously? After what I just said to you?”


  “Will it matter if it happens at 9:30 or 11:30?”

  “I would prefer earlier, in case I may be interested in a second helping at 11:30,” she said, frowning at him, concerned that she was negotiating with a stranger for sex. Next, would he want to know if she was paying by cash or credit card?

  “I’m good for seconds or thirds, but I would feel better if we talked a bit first,” he said to her.

  She held up her hands in defeat. Is this how men felt trying to get laid? Scratching behind her ear, she eyed his profile. The strong jawline, the set A-line nose, the nostrils which flared slightly. Bad skin, bucked teeth, and thick glasses aside, Scott could be a decent looking guy.

  She could not for the life of her figure out why she found him so horribly sexy.

  “Okay, we can talk first,” she said to him, feeling like a horny bar dog ready to hump his leg.

  “Thanks,” he told her.

  In hindsight, she was happy they had the conversation. It made a world of difference in how she saw the man, and the reason she wanted to see him again.

  Chapter 7

  Dinner drug out so long that by 8:15, it was in need of life support as one more man with a scarred-up vent doll took to the mic to tell how ventriloquism saved his life. Zelda’s nerve endings were standing up as if electrical currents were igniting them one by one. The lady boner under her dress was raging hard for Scott.

  “Head to the ladies room, then over to the bar. I will meet you there in five,” he told her.

  Zelda managed to get Persephone’s attention for her to slip out of the dull dinner as well. Grandma Lula always told her, you leave with the same friend you arrived with; never leave a girlfriend alone. She stuck to that as she and Persephone went to powder their noses.

  “Whew, I have two hotties tonight. Thank you. I really don’t know which one to choose. One is so nice and such a gentleman, and the other is A Bad Monkey,” she said to Zelda.

  “What is his name?” She knew the guy’s name sitting next to Persephone, but the rough looking bad boy chosen by Scott, she didn’t know at all.

  “A Bad Monkey. That is his handle, his act, and he tours with a doll named Bad Monkey. He has fake monkey poo and everything that he throws at the audience. It’s quite funny,” Persephone said.

  “And nope,” Zelda told her. “Do you really want to give yourself to a man who throws fake monkey shit at people for a comedic living?”

  “Oh, you are all judgmental all of a sudden. It’s easy for you since you have a super guy like Scott eating out of your hand. I can see you dancing around his kitchen just because he loves the way the little divot in your neck smells,” Persephone said.

  Zelda had been down this road before with a few of girlfriends and she’d had enough of lame ass excuses from women wanting something they knew would not work out. She sighed, speaking slowly so there would be no misunderstandings.

  “That makes no sense and this is not about me and Scott. I am talking to you and about you. Only you have to face Pip in the mirror in the morning. Not me. Don’t make tonight about me. Woman up. If you want to screw a poop throwing guy who calls himself a bad monkey, then swing up on the branch and let your freak flag fly. However, you do so know and willingly understanding nothing is going to come of it. If he sees you tomorrow on the conference floor, will he acknowledge you or tell every man around him how he made you squeal tonight as he banged you until your ass cheeks turned as red as your hair?”

  Persephone’s mouth hung open.

  “Close your mouth before you catch a fly. You young-minded women are always going for the bad boys because you think you can change them. Here is a piece of advice I hope you take to heart. A man changes when and if he wants to...not before, not after, but during. The changes must be of his own doing or they will not stay. A guy who throws fake monkey shit for a living is not ready to grow up. That’s okay if you go into this night looking just to have some fun. However, don’t expect him to respect you because he is only in it to do the same,” she said to Persephone.

  “Why are you telling me all of this?”

  “Because, my dear Pip, if I had a Mrs. Haversham, I would not have made so many of the same mistakes I am warning you about,” Zelda said. “I’m going to the bar to meet Scott for a drink.”

  Persephone grabbed her purse and followed behind Zelda. The red dress clung to her very shapely body as she walked with a practiced fierceness Zelda hadn’t noticed earlier when the young woman was in costume in the stupid oversized shoes and mismatched stocking socks. Honestly, she didn’t think the monkey poop thrower deserved her new friend.

  “Pip,” she asked, pulling her arm. “Do you have any condoms?”

  “Sure! You need a few?”

  Zelda’s cheeks reddened. “No, I just wanted to make sure you were going to be safe,” she said.

  “Oh yeah! These conferences, men come from all over the world. You never know what is in the water they are drinking,” she said.

  “Okay then,” she said, shaking her head but still leading the way to the bar.

  Much of the room had left the boring dry speeches for a moment of respite. Scott was ready with a glass of wine for her and Pip, along with both of the potential partners for the night. He’d ordered himself a beer.

  “Persephone, Zelda and I are going to head out the patio to enjoy the night. Are you okay?” Scott asked.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” she said.

  “Are you dancing with us later or headed to your room?”

  “I am thinking of turning in,” she said.

  “Will one of these gentlemen be escorting you to your door?” Scott stood between her and the two very interested and willing partners.

  “Ahhh...yes,” she said blushing.

  Scott stood still. He did not budge until he stared her down, forcing her to make a choice right then and there. The men understood what he was doing as well.

  “Rudy, will you be so kind and escort me to my room?”

  “Sure thing Ms. Pip,” the young man Zelda had chosen for her said with a smile.

  The attention was now focused on A Bad Monkey. “Good night, Rex,” Scott said to him.

  “Later, Mr. Berger,” the guy said, walking away to be flanked by three petite blondes, a brunette, and a redhead, all vying for his attention. Persephone watched him walk away and not even look back at her.

  “Good night, Persephone,” Zelda said.

  “Thank you,” Pip said, pulling her in for a hug.

  Zelda’s eyes went to Scott when Pip released her from the brief embrace.

  “Let’s get the particulars and this chat out of the way, so we can dance and enjoy each other’s company,” she said raising one eyebrow.

  “Your directness is refreshing,” Scott said, as he led her out a side patio door to the lanai.

  “Well, I don’t suffer fools. Plus life is too short to be miserable, unhappy and afraid to ask for what you want,” she said.

  “Are you ready to ask me for what you want?”

  “I didn’t ask you. I told you what I wanted,” she said.

  “Yes, you did. I also didn’t respond. My mother loves to tell us that the Devil in Hell wants some ice water, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to get it,” Scott said.

  “Are you playing hard to get?”

  “I am hard to get,” he said with a smile, “which is why I wanted to talk with you and dance, and we take it from there.”

  “You told me earlier at my request that you “will do” and provide seconds or thirds if I wanted. I am not quite sure what to make of all of this,” Zelda said.

  “Right now, I am trying to think with the head on my shoulders. The other one said all that stuff,” he said somberly. “I ain’t gonna lie to you, Zelda, I am beyond ready, but mistakes are costly. I am ready for a heaping helping of seconds, thirds, and possibly fourths, but I can’t afford to make costly mistakes.”

  “Do you think I would be a mistake?”

  “Yes,
if we don’t clear the air first. I need you to understand where I am coming from before we can go forward,” he said.

  “I don’t believe this shit,” she said, entering a new level of frustration.

  “Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all. We can say goodnight and call this a wash,” he said.

  For a moment, she wondered if this was the test he put the conference-going women through to see if they could pass his character test. Thus far, she was failing horribly, coming across as some horny bar stalker waiting for the last call. She changed tactics.

  “Scott, tell me about the three major loves of your life.”

  “What?”

  “Three women broke your heart. Tell me about them,” she said.

  The question caught him off guard. So much so, he took a seat. His hand absently scratched at his chest, then flattened as if he were trying to still his heart. A far-off stare followed as he looked out into the night, recalling three of the most painful times in his life.

  “Andromeda was the first. She wanted to “fix” me. The nagging never ceased on skin care regimens, suggesting I see an orthodontist, eye surgery, the works. Finally, for my own self-esteem, I had to walk away from her,” he said.

  “May I ask your take away from that first heartbreak?”

  He shrugged.

  “My looks are my looks. If a woman can’t love my astigmatism, bucked teeth, bad skin, bushy eyebrows, and hairy body, then she doesn’t love me. Cosmetic issues can be changed, but being an asshole is permanent,” he said.

  “Duly noted. Let’s move on to number two,” she said.

  “Demetria was the second. A money hungry woman who was clever with her words and her acrobatic vagina until I told her I was broke and only had my salary to live on,” he said.

  Zelda frowned, in confusion.

  “That makes no sense,” she added.

  This had Scott’s attention.

  “Why do you say that, Zelda? The clever vagina part...”

  “No, don’t want to discuss that part at all. I am talking about the portion of being broke. If you factor in the museum, which is a non-profit, the grants written and gained for the museum, the Berger Vent Company, including repairs and sales, that is only one leg of the Berger Estate. Secondly, this convention has been going on for 40 years. There is nothing here but net profit. Saying you are broke is ridiculous,” she said.