Betty Jo Schuler

Finding Mr. Romantic

Chapter One, continued

Nick slammed his mug down on the table. Coffee slopped over the edge onto the printout of Chapter One. Wiping it up with paper towels, he knocked over the cup. Brown liquid ran across the table and onto the floor. "Damn."

He opened the tiny closet to look for a rag, and a mop fell out and rapped him on the shoulder. An old Halloween mask hit him in the head. Rags fell at his feet, along with a bunch of other crap. The mop looked new. So he swabbed the floor with a raggedy pillowcase he could pitch.

Eyeing the pile on the floor, he picked up the cell phone and called his cousin, Delbert.

"What's all this stuff in the kitchen closet, Dell? Trash or treasure?"

"Fire hazard. Pitch it all out."

He'd set the mop upside down in the corner by his bed, and grinning, Nick picked up the half-mask with a veil and hung it on the mop head. "You sure?" He pulled a filmy green scarf out of the pile. "Looks like some of this belonged to an old girlfriend."

"Sabrina. Throw it away."

"Was she the one with the body from heaven?"

"And a mind that wouldn't stop."

"I like women with brains."

"I've never known you to date one."

"Luck of the draw." Nick chuckled into the phone. "Beautiful women are drawn to me."

"And smart ones aren't? In case no one's told you, it's possible to be both."

Nick glanced at his computer where a screen saver hid the words that haunted him...why not? Isadora was both and annoying as hell. The women he dated were fluff, for good reason. Dating should be fun, not an exercise in deciphering what a woman really woman meant, nor comparing histories. Discussing who made the highest grades in school or had the most skeletons in their closets wasn't for him. His only A's were in subjects he liked...English, science, and industrial arts. When it came to skeletons, his closet contained more than he wanted to talk about.

"So I guess the book is coming along," Dell said, with a touch of sarcasm. "Considering all that experience with beautiful women, it must be a cinch."

"Don't worry, Dell." The mop had strands of yellow sponge instead of string, and Isadora had golden hair. She was introspective, a mysterious breed, and the little half-veil on the black mask lent her an air of mystery. Nick looped the green scarf around the handle and tied it in a knot. "I'll win this bet."

Dell loved giving him a hard time. And Nick, who was competitive and loved a challenge, had fallen for his bait. After a night of bar hopping, trying to outdo one another with tall tales about voluptuous women, Dell had dared him to write a romance book. He could write mysteries, so why not a love story? A love story would be easy. They shook hands on it.

"If you don't, there are worse things than working with your father."

Nick glanced out the back window of the trailer, where there was a house going up on a hill. The framework stood so strong and proud, he could almost smell the wood. He'd loved going to construction sites when he was a kid, and Dad loved taking him. Nick retied the knot on the green scarf, so it wouldn't slip, then attempted to make a bow.

"Dennis Rustic Homes could be yours someday."

"I don't want Dad's business, Dell." He didn't even want to work with his father. But his cousin wanted them to have a close relationship, like him and his dad. So he got this fool notion Nick should work at Dennis Homes for a year if he lost.

"Sabrina was a psychology major who drove me nuts trying to analyze me. However, I would like to find the right girl and settle down. Don't you ever think about getting a regular job and getting married, Nick?"

"Have you forgotten who you're talking to?" Nick nudged the pile on the floor, hard, with his toe. "I'm a free man who likes it that way."

Finding Mr. Romantic, continued >>> | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |