COPYRIGHT © 2016 BY PENELOPE MARSHALL
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED, SCANNED, OR DISTRIBUTED IN ANY PRINTED OR ELECTRONIC FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION. PLEASE DO NOT PARTICIPATE IN OR ENCOURAGE PIRACY OF COPYRIGHTED MATERIALS IN VIOLATION OF THE AUTHOR'S RIGHTS. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES AND INCIDENTS EITHER ARE THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR'S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY, AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO LOCALES, EVENTS, BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS, OR ACTUAL PERSONS – LIVING OR DEAD – IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.
THE WANT AD
SECOND EDITION
CONTENTS
Dedication
Acknowledgements
BROKEN HEEL
MONTHLY CYCLE
NEXT TIME
TEAM WORK
NAIL SHOP
REUNION
AFTER PARTY
RATS
TICKETS
ANOTHER WOMAN
THE WANT AD
EPILOGUE
About the Author
Also by Penelope Marshall
THE WANT AD
Ben has been my best friend for years, and in a perfect world, he would be the guy for me. But the thought of losing him over a short-lived relationship keeps my feelings at bay.
-NECIE
I've never loved another woman like I love Necie. She's everything I want in a wife, unfortunately, she's my roommate and friend, and I've never had the courage to tell her how I feel. To complicate matters, she reunites with a high school crush who suddenly expresses his interest in her.
Can I tell my best friend she's the one for me before it's too late?
-BEN
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Dedication
To my family for their unwavering support.
Wouldn't it be great if love were like a buffet line? It would be easier, painless, and peaceful. But it wouldn't be love. Love doesn't just accept a few things—it accepts all things.
Acknowledgements
I'd like to thank everyone who helped make this book possible:
My wonderful beta readers and friends, who are willing to read anything I throw at them,
Josan, Liz, Alma, Jeanette, Avril, and my Dad.
Charity, my all around Ass Kicker and Superhero.
BROKEN HEEL
NECIE
There's no way I'm getting back to sleep.
"You better jump in the shower before you're late for work," Ben said, after yanking the comforter off the bed, exposing my half-naked body to the cold morning air.
He walked through my room to pull open the curtains, something he did every morning. Now that I thought about it, if he didn't do that for me every morning, I'd probably be without a job right now.
Groaning, I sat up and dangled my legs off the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
Whipping my hair from my face, I found myself gazing over to the corner floor of the room which doubled more as my clothes hamper than anything else.
I hope there's something more than yoga pants in that pile.
"I don't wanna to be an adult today," I said in a low murmur, as I hung my head between my shoulders and sighed.
"Have you made coffee yet?" I asked, yawning.
"You're so needy," he said, kissing me on the top of my head.
"Blah," I grumbled, rifling through the clothes on the floor.
Ben was my best friend, whom I had met through a roommate want ad in college. We shared a shabby little, two-bedroom, rent-controlled apartment in the heart of Brooklyn. The ad I answered still hung in our living room, after Ben had it framed to commemorate our first year of 'roommate bliss' together…or so he liked to call it.
The irony lied in that he didn't need to be my roommate any longer. After becoming a successful surgeon, he could easily live alone in a swanky condo in Tribeca and still have enough to pay for another three of our little apartments combined. Needless to say, he was living a beer bottle life on a champagne budget.
Every now and again, I would ask why he stayed, but he would laugh and tell me that no other woman would put up with him the way I did. Sure, occasionally, he left the toilet seat up, or had to be nagged to take out the trash, but didn't all men have issues like that?
Although I kept telling myself he was only ever going to be a friend, when I thought about him during those long droughts I couldn't help but bite my bottom lip to keep from telling him how I really felt.
After a few moments of rifling through the clothes, I finally found the chiffon blouse and black pencil skirt I was looking for.
Turning to head to the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of Ben pulling off his blood-stained shirt from work, revealing his rock hard body. Hugging his slim waist was the black elastic band from his briefs, peeking over his loose fitting scrub pants, enticing me to give them a little snap.
He swatted my hand away. "Don't play with me right now. I have to get back to work. I just came home to wake your lazy butt up."
"Who said I was playin'?" I asked coyly. "If you don't like it, then stop walking up in my room lookin' like that."
"Why? Don't you like what you see?" he asked, slapping my rear end as he strolled out of the room.
"No one said I didn't like it. I just said stop walking in my room half naked if you don't like me touchin' you."
"What? You wanna touch me?"
"Such a jerk!" I said gruffly, walking into the bathroom.
Considering he worked long days, drank more coffee than the taste testers for Folgers, and never stepped foot inside a gym, his shirtless body was enough to make any woman wet. Well that, coupled with his green eyes, dark brown hair, and a five o'clock shadow that could knock any woman's socks off.
Ben had never technically been anything more than just a friend and a roommate, except of course in my dreams where I would frequently rip his clothes off and have my way with him.
However, in the last few months, our flirting had become more overt in nature. It was a change that I was a little intimidated by, but at the same time, it was something I wasn't actively trying to oppose.
"Are you in the shower yet? You're gonna be late!"
"Alright, Dad!"
"I just know how much you love your job. I know you'd hate to lose it."
I didn't bother to reply, noting the sarcasm in his voice.
"You know I sent in all those resumes, I just haven't heard back."
I hopped in the shower, letting the warm water soothe my anxious body.
After what had only seemed like a few minutes of enjoyment, I heard Ben yell, "You're gonna be late."
"Leave me alone, I know!"
I stepped out of the shower, dried off, and quickly got dressed. I took one last look in the mirror before heading off to work, wishing I were going to a more exciting job.
"Here you go," he said, meeting me at the door with a Styrofoam cup full of black coffee.
"Geez, you're gonna make someone a good husband someday, Benjamin Johnson," I said as I took a sip. "I'll see ya' later."
I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and was out the door a second later.
"Hey, don't forget dinner," he yelled as the door slammed behind me.
BEN
That woman is gonna be the death of me.
I shook my head as I made my way to my closet to grab a new scrub shirt and head back to work. One of these days, I was going to stop coming home for lunch to wake her up. Maybe then she would notice.
NECIE
I made it all the way to my office building but caught my heel in a crack on the sidewalk right before I got through the front doors. Thankfully, it didn't break o
ff completely, but it was just loose enough to make walking uncomfortable. The hours crept by as I filled out endless forms by hand because the computer system had shut down twenty minutes before I hobbled in with my half-broken heel.
That was my life in a proverbial nutshell. If Mr. Murphy had a picture in his mind when he was making up his law, it was of me. The caption would've read something like: Necie Anderson: a single, childless, broken-heeled, underachiever.
Finishing my day with a whopping ache in my fingers, and a wobble in my step, I began to wonder what my life had come to. After having such a promising start following four years of sheer hell in high school, this was not where I saw myself at this point in my life.
I used to be the token nerdy fat girl in high school, lugging around an extra seventy-five pounds, a set of clunky metal braces, frizzy hair, and a face full of acne that was reminiscent of having the measles. I even got stuck with a head of kinky hair in desperate need of a good stylist. However, over time I had become quite the opposite, now slender with smooth skin, perfection is what I tried to present to the world, trying my best to hide the insecure geek from high school.
Back then, I was teased incessantly, with taunts and cruel words that only hormone induced teenagers could conceive in their hateful little brains.
My only saving grace had been the journalism class I was accidentally signed up for senior year. It was that class which inspired me to earn my bachelor's degree in journalism.
Unfortunately, the only article I ever published was for a feminine itch company entitled: Bacterial Vaginosis, Who Invited You to the Party?
My accomplishments had been few and far between, and the article was another example added to a long list of not so shiny moments in my life.
My prospects for the future were looking pretty bleak, but the thought of having to go out on countless interviews to land a journalism job seemed too daunting. And what if I failed? I wished I were a go-getter like Ben, so confident and sure of himself. I shook my head, pushing the thought to the back of my mind.
MONTHLY CYCLE
Stepping out onto the curb, I paused to inhale the crisp air, and then hurried home to throw the heels off my now sore feet.
I stopped at the mailbox to see if the lipstick I had ordered online had arrived, but after turning the key and opening the tiny door, all I found were a stack of envelopes staring back at me.
Bills.
Just as reliable as my monthly cycle, the credit card company never forgot about me. I took a deep breath and grabbed the stack, locking the small door after. I was convinced I was never going to get out of debt from college, and I could very well end up an old spinster, living with Ben and Monster, our black cat.
Life shouldn't be this hard.
Monster was already waiting on the other side of the door as I walked in.
"My prince," I said as I moved by, patting him on the head.
He purred and followed me to the old gray futon, which had sat in the middle of the living room since college. I dropped the envelopes onto the coffee table, plopped down, and threw my purse on the ground, accidently hitting Monster on the leg.
"Meow!"
I jumped up to investigate the commotion and realized that I had hit him with my bag.
"Aww, I'm so sorry, my love. Please forgive me?" I asked passionately with my hand pressed against my chest, like Scarlett O'Hara in the movie Gone with the Wind.
Monster zipped away, disappearing into my bedroom. I grabbed the remote and settled back on the futon, realizing that flirting with Monster was about as close to Prince Charming as I was going to get, since my love life as of late was about as interesting as the broken heel on my shoe. I flipped on the television to watch the latest installment of housewives, and before I knew it, I was asleep.
BEN
Across town…
"Hey, Dr. Johnson, how is your day going?" Jada, a nurse on my floor, asked.
"It's going," I replied, grinning from ear to ear.
"What's that smile for?"
"Smile? What smile?" I asked coyly, even though I knew what smile she was talking about.
I had Necie on my mind when I strolled up to the nurse's station, and she always brought a smile to my face.
"You can pretend all you want, but some of the ladies are hoping that smile is because of a special someone."
"It is," I replied with an even bigger smile.
"Someone we know?"
"Maybe." I nodded.
"Someone here at work?" she asked with a solemn, yet curious look on her face.
I realized then that she wasn't talking about Necie. Not really wanting to divulge too much of my personal life, I pretended that my pager was vibrating.
"Oh look, they need me in ICU," I said, pressing some buttons on the pager as I walked away.
"Okay, Doctor," she said from behind.
I did a few more rounds with my usual patients and then took off for home, excited to see Necie. I didn't know what it was about the last few weeks that had changed, but I loved it; I loved her, and she was finally letting me.
The past ten years had certainly been excruciating, having to watch her date loser after loser. And sometimes, there was the occasional good guy who I thought might have a chance. Thank goodness they never panned out.
I knew she tried to keep me at arm's length because of our friendship, but I was ready to take it to the next level. Let's face it, I wasn't a spring chicken anymore, and if I wanted to have a family, I was going to need to take the bull by the horns.
NECIE
I woke up to a kiss on the cheek. My eyes fluttered open to Ben leaning over me, his face touching mine.
"Hey there, handsome," I said with a smile.
"Handsome now, huh?"
"You've always been handsome. I would never have a best friend that wasn't handsome," I said, trying to steer the conversation away from relationship talk.
The smile left his face, and I knew calling him my best friend was starting to annoy him. I think we were in that in-between stage, where friends turn into something more, but I was still desperately trying to hang on to the friendship, even though I knew it was a losing battle.
He plopped down on the couch next to me, shuffling the envelopes on the coffee table. "What's this?"
"What's, what?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"This invitation. It's from your old high school."
"Let me see," I said, yanking the envelope from his hand, pulling the invitation from its jacket.
I scanned the information printed inside.
"Huh! My ten-year high school reunion. I can't believe it's been ten years already."
Shrugging, I threw the card stock back on the coffee table, hoping Ben didn't pick up on my dismissive behavior, as I had no interest in explaining why I wouldn't be attending.
He looked at me with astonishment on his face.
"Why wouldn't you want to go? I went to mine, and I had a great time," he said, picking the invitation back up, perusing the details printed on the page.
"You're a doctor, and you're fine as hell. Of course, you had a great time. I highly doubt I'm gonna wow anyone with my crappy job."
"Hey now, that's my best friend you're talkin' about there. And you're forgetting all your other amazing attributes."
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that you're beautiful, smart, and sometimes funny. Not all the time though, but you do have your moments," he said jokingly.
I turned from the television.
"Shut up, Ben. You're my best friend, so you have to say that to me. You don't even know what it was like for me back then. It wasn't a walk in the park, ya know. The mean girls, the boys that never noticed me, and there was that carb addiction adding forty-five extra pounds to my butt—thank ya very much," I barked, grabbing the invitation from him, and flinging it back on the coffee table.
I planted my foot on top of it to keep him from picking it up again.
"Yes, I d
o! I was a scrawny little kid that got made fun of all the time, too. Don't forget what I looked like the day you met me. I opened the door, wrapped in nothing but a towel, to this beautiful creature holding a newspaper. I must've been about a hundred and fifteen pounds soaking wet."
NEXT TIME
BEN
"You know what…" my words trailed as I jumped over the couch, headed toward the bookcase, which mostly housed my medical books and some of her unused cookbooks.
"What?"
"You'll see," I said, pulling a dusty red leather-bound book from the bottom shelf.
I made my way back to the futon, and sat down next to her, crossing one of my legs over hers.
"Wait, what's that?"
"This, my dear, is your senior yearbook," I replied with a sinister smile. "Look here you are, Necie Anderson, most likely to succeed. See I always knew you were meant for great things!" I said, nudging her with my elbow.
Her reply was a quick nudge back, causing the moment to go from zero to sixty in less than two seconds flat. One could call the tension palpable, but I would call it downright thick. We gazed into each other's eyes and had one of those moments—the kind one has right before their first kiss. I almost couldn't believe it was about to happen, and as I mustered up the nerve to lean in, she backed away and cleared her throat.
"Most likely to succeed. What a joke! I've never succeeded at anything," she said sarcastically, as she shut the book and slid it onto my lap, before heading to the kitchen.
"You succeeded in making me fall in love with you," I muttered under my breath.
"What'd you say?" she yelled from the kitchen.
"Oh, nothing," I replied, slumping down into the futon, opening the yearbook back up.
"I'm not going to embarrass myself, and I don't wanna hear anything else about it."
"Embarrass yourself?" My reply was peppered with a tinge of anger.
The Want Ad: A Sweet Romance Page 1
