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Stakeout For Love
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Stakeout For Love Copyright © 2009 Christie Walker Bos
Edited by Kelli Kwiatkowski.
Cover art by Syneca.
Electronic book Publication March 2009
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing Inc., 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Cerridwen Press is an imprint of Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.®
Stakeout For Love
Christie Walker Bos
Trademarks Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Jeep: DaimlerChrysler Corporation
Mustang: Ford Motor Company
Photoshop: Adobe Systems Incorporated
Starbucks: Starbucks U.S. Brands, LLC
Chapter One
A dark green ‘65 Mustang slowed to a stop across the street from a busy Starbucks on Santa Monica Boulevard, two blocks from the Pacific Ocean. The tires crunched on fall leaves piled at the curb as its driver maneuvered the car into an empty space. The strawberry blonde behind the wheel pulled on the parking break and turned off the engine. Her passenger unlocked her seat belt and turned to face the driver, pushing her sunglasses up into her auburn hair.
“So tell me again what we’re doing here?” Skyler asked.
“We’re on a stakeout,” Cath said as if she did this type of thing every day.
Skyler rolled her dark brown eyes and sighed. Why do I let Cath talk me into these things?
“So if this is a stakeout, there should be donuts, right?”
Cath pointed to a small white bag sitting on the backseat.
“I was kidding. You know I’m on a diet,” Skyler said even as she reached into the backseat, grabbed the bag and opened it. “Hey, there’s only one donut in here.”
“You sound disappointed,” Cath teased, her green eyes flashing with mischief. “I thought you were on a diet?”
Cath took the bag from Skyler, reached in and pulled out a large glazed donut. She pulled it apart into two pieces and handed one to Skyler. “Sharing a donut is only half the calories. So you see, I am looking out for your girlish figure. Besides, the donut is only for effect. We won’t be sitting here long.”
Cath reached into her oversized pink leather bag and pulled out a pair of binoculars, handing them to Skyler before taking a bite of her donut.
“What am I supposed to do with these?”
“Spy,” Cath said with obvious delight, tickled with the whole stakeout concept.
Skyler held the binoculars up to her eyes and looked across the street and through the windows of the Starbucks. The binoculars were powerful enough that she could read the chalkboard announcing a seasonal blend of pumpkin-spice coffee.
“And what, may I ask, will I be spying on? The flavor of the month?”
“Funny you should say that,” Cath laughed, licking sugar flakes from her lips. “You know how you’ve been using that computer dating service to find date-worthy men?”
“Yes,” Skyler said cautiously, aware of a bad feeling creeping into her stomach like a snake moving through the grass.
“Pete and I have been calling your various dates the ‘flavors of the month’.”
“Funny,” Skyler said, thinking it wasn’t funny at all.
Working seventy to eighty hours a week as an accountant left her no time for a personal life, unless you counted hanging out with other number freaks, which was about as exciting as reading technical accounting guidance. Her analytical nature had led her to a series of dating services, which at the time had seemed like a logical and time-efficient manner in which to meet people with similar interests.
She had dutifully filled out all the forms, answering questions about personality traits (she was hardworking, a bit of a neat freak, playful and loved animals), hobbies (like she had time for a hobby), philosophy (work hard, play hard), and her favorite…what she wanted to be when she grew up (God, not an accountant!). She had been brutally honest with her answers and expected others to do the same.
That was her first mistake.
The problem wasn’t that they lied about a few things—they seemed to lie about everything. Age…the young guys made themselves older, the older guys made themselves younger. Career…everyone in L.A. said they were tied into the movie industry even if they weren’t. Personality…apparently everyone was a romantic with a great sense of humor.
And pictures? She thought she could at least count on photos to shine the harsh light of reality but she came to learn that photos lie too. Ski caps hid bald heads, Photoshop erased wrinkles better than a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon, and artful cropping made sure less-than-desirable features were eliminated—such as enormous beer bellies and, in one case, an actual peg leg.
The worst photo fraud was using a picture that was ten to twenty years old. When the instructions on the site prompted, “upload a recent photo”, some people interpreted that to mean anytime after the birth of Christ.
The result…Skyler had been on a series of disappointing dates and had finally given up altogether. She told herself and anyone who would listen that being single was terrific. She planned to stay single forever.
But close friends like Cath knew the truth. It had been a year since she’d shaken herself free from the control freak she had been married to and she was ready to meet someone new. Throwing herself into her work had been good for her career but not her love life. The computer-dating thing had seemed like a good idea at the time but after six months of disastrous dates, she had gone back to being a workaholic.
Apparently, friends like Cath weren’t going to let her give up so easily.
“You’re really lousy at this dating thing,” Cath said, patting Skyler’s thigh.
“Yes and that’s why I quit. That still doesn’t explain what we’re doing on a stakeout, as you call it.”
“Maybe this will explain it,” Cath said as she pulled a sheet of paper out of her bag and handed it to Skyler.
“What is this?” Skyler asked—before she saw her name and photo at the top of the page.
“It’s your new profile.”
“My what?” Skyler scanned the page. “I like camping? When’s the last time I’ve been camping?”
“Two summers ago and you loved it, remember?”
“A great cook? I eat out of a bag ninety percent of the time.”
“But you can cook and when you do, it’s amazing.”
Skyler continued to scan the page. Cath had created a profile of the woman she could be, would love to be, if she wasn’t so absorbed in her work.
“
This is a lie,” Skyler pronounced and handed her profile back to Cath. “It’s exactly what’s wrong with computer dating…people lie.”
“But it’s not a lie. This is you—or at least it could be if you stopped working long enough to have some fun.”
Skyler shook her head.
“One of the reasons you’ve been attracting all these losers is your profile. It’s dull and lifeless. I read it to Pete and he didn’t even recognize you. You’re fun and funny.”
“I am? I don’t feel fun.”
“Exactly my point. You need someone who will bring that Skyler back to life and I think I’ve found him.”
“What?”
Cath just smiled.
“What have you done, Cath?”
“Besides opening a new account for you, creating a new profile and screening your matches?”
“I am seriously going to kill you.”
“There is one more little, teeny, tiny thing.”
“What?” Skyler asked, barely above a whisper, wondering whether she should strangle Cath right there in the car or cut up her credit cards in front of her—both options would be equally painful.
“You’re meeting someone in,” Cath looked at her watch, “fifteen minutes.”
Cath gave Skyler her best innocent smile as she watched the color drain from her friend’s face, leaving it a ghostly white, making her brown eyes look blacker than dark chocolate.
“How could you?”
“Actually it was pretty easy. First we—”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it! How could you do this to me?”
“It’s for your own good and for my sanity.”
That threw Skyler. “Your sanity?”
“Pete and I love you, Skyler, but this emotional roller coaster you’re on is painful to watch.”
“Tell me about it. You guys only have to hear the details. I have to live it!”
“Ever since you moved next door, you’ve become a part of our extended family. We care about you, Skyler. We want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” Skyler insisted, knowing it was a lie.
Cath ignored her comment and plunged on.
“Pete and I looked at your profile and decided it was too raw, too detailed, too honest. Kevin and George read it too, without knowing it was yours, and they didn’t recognize you either, even after I told them it was someone they both knew.”
Skyler shook her head. “How embarrassing.”
“So we changed it.”
“We?”
“Yes, all of us. Especially the guys. Nothing better than a guy’s perspective for this kind of thing.”
Skyler buried her face in her hands. “Oh my god.”
“Then we posted your profile online and the match-ups started rolling in. We sorted through them and came up with three possibilities.”
“Only three?”
“Yes. We decided one of the reasons you were having so many bad experiences was because you weren’t being discriminating enough. So we’re providing an added layer of scrutiny to the process. You can’t let some stupid computer decide your fate.”
“I don’t believe this. It’s dating by committee.” Skyler turned away from Cath and stared out the window.
“The guys were amazing, especially Pete. He has a real knack for reading between the lines. It’s like having a code breaker on our team.”
When Skyler didn’t respond, Cath continued. “Now for the truly brilliant part. We realized that these guys could be lying or their pictures could be retouched—or they could have failed to mention a peg leg, for instance.”
“Don’t remind me of that disaster.”
“So that’s why we’re here,” Cath said, as if that explained everything.
Skyler sat perfectly still, the binoculars on her lap. Cath was obviously waiting for her to figure it out on her own. And as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, a picture began to form. Stakeout, donut, binoculars, spy—the truth unfolded like a horror movie in which she was to have a starring role.
Skyler turned to look at Cath, mouthing the word “no”. Seeing the huge smile on Cath’s face broke her silence. “No, no, no, no. You can’t be serious? This is so stupid!”
“That’s what Jessica said too, but it worked out for her.”
“I’m not doing this.” Skyler picked up the binoculars and thrust them at Cath.
“That’s too bad,” Cath said as she accepted the binoculars and raised them up to her eyes. “Because if I’m not mistaken, here comes bachelor number one.”
Skyler couldn’t help herself. She turned to look out the window and saw a man across the street in a tweed jacket and jeans, carrying a book and a red rose, walking down the sidewalk.
“A book and a rose… What movie was that?”
“You’ve Got Mail with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. Hmmm,” Cath murmured.
“What?”
“He looks a little older than he said in his profile. He said early forties and he looks more like early fifties.”
“Ha!” Skyler snorted. “They always lie.”
“He’s not bad looking though, kind of distinguished. And he didn’t lie about his height. We insisted on someone over six-two.”
“I’ve never worried about height.”
“Yes, I know. But the boys decided that maybe you should. We—the committee to find Skyler a date—think it’s a rare man who can handle a woman who is almost six feet tall without heels. We think those men who don’t mind being shorter than their dates must have an Oedipus complex.”
“Oh brother.”
“No, that would be, ‘oh mother’!” Cath laughed at her own joke. Skyler wasn’t laughing. “Now for Part Two of the plan.”
“I’m not going in there,” Skyler declared and locked the car door to emphasize her point.
“We knew you’d say that. That’s why Part Two doesn’t involve you at all.”
Skyler raised her sculptured eyebrows.
“I’m going in there.” Cath pulled a book and a silk red rose out of her bag.
“You can’t be serious.”
“This is the best part,” Cath explained. “I go over there, see the guy with the book and the rose just like mine. I laugh. Say something like…You’ve Got Mail, right? I tell him I’m meeting someone too. I sit next to him and chat him up a bit, gauge his personality, ask a few questions. I already know what he wrote in his profile so I’ll know if he changes his story. Then the really brilliant part—after ten minutes, you call me on my cell. I’ll pretend you’re the person I’m waiting for. If I say, ‘Oh my god, that’s awful’ that means he’s a dud and you stay where you are. Here,” Cath finished, handing Skyler a piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
“The phone number for Starbucks. If he’s a dud, you call and ask to speak to him. Tell him you have to cancel. Make up whatever story you want.” Cath reached into her bag again. “Here’s his profile. His name is Wil, with one L.”
“What else do you have in there?” Skyler leaned in to have a look but Cath pulled the bag away.
“Top secret. Now pay attention. If I say, ‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry’, that means he’s a keeper and you should come and met him. Then I’ll leave, since my ‘date’ was in an accident.”
“This is never going to work. First of all, I would never be late.”
“They don’t know that. You have exactly ten minutes to come up with a good excuse. And here,” Cath said, handing the binoculars back to Skyler. “Unlike the movie, you get to watch from a safe distance. If you don’t like what you see, say so when you call me.”
Skyler accepted the binoculars and trained them on the backside of the man who was at the counter ordering a coffee.
He does have a nice ass .
“It seems a little sneaky and mean.”
“How many times have you been stood up, lied to or deserted? This is war, and you know what they say about love and war.”
Cath opened the car door
and stepped out, taking the book and rose and slinging her bag over her shoulder. Before closing the door, she stuck her head back inside the car.
“Remember. Give me ten minutes and then call.”
“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.” For the first time, it was Skyler who had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“Very funny. Ten minutes,” Cath repeated, before closing the door and running across the street.
Skyler raised the binoculars and found bachelor number one seated at a small table, book and rose placed purposefully at the corner of the table facing the door, just like Meg had done in the movie. His eyes were focused on the door like a dog waiting for his master to come home.
Too eager.
A flash of bright pink from Cath’s leather jacket told Skyler that she was inside. Skyler zoomed out enough to include Cath in her field of view. Cath moved in, sat at a table next to Wil and began to chat, using animated hand gestures. The man forced a smile in Cath’s direction every now and then, but kept looking expectantly at the door every time it opened.
As much as she hated to admit it, she was actually having fun. She was able to zoom in on various body parts and really examine them. His hands were soft looking and smooth and his fingers were tapping the table like he was playing the piano. She didn’t mind the streaks of gray at his temples but wasn’t too fond of the strange squinty thing he kept doing with his eyes every time he looked over at the door.
Probably needs glasses but is too vain to wear them on a first date. That would be dumb.
When the phone rang and interrupted her dissection of his left earlobe, she realized she’d lost track of time. She put down the binoculars and opened her phone. Cath’s picture popped up.
Skyler looked up to see Cath standing out on the sidewalk, phone to her ear. Skyler pushed the talk button. “Sorry. Has it really been ten minutes?”
“Very funny. I guess we don’t need code words now, do we?” Cath sounded disappointed at not being able to use the secret code.
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