QUEENIE BABY: On Assignment (5 page)

“Whoa, there Mr. Hacker,” Mark said. “You don’t want to do that.”
 

He sat my guitar down and leaned Carol against the wall to go after Granddaddy. Granddaddy saw him coming, whipped his pants off and threw them in Mark’s face. Mark made a grab for him, but Granddaddy faked left and ran out into the open area in front of the building. He was impressively agile for a drunk old man. Mark turned to look at me for direction. I shrugged, not sure what to do.
 

“Get your pants on Granddaddy,” I yelled. “And get in this house now! Or you can stay out here tonight.” That stopped him in his tracks.
 

“You’re a party pooper, girl! Don’ let an old man have his fun,” he complained as he grabbed his pants from Mark. “I was just about to show this feller my old wrasselin’ moves.”
 

“His what moves?” Mark asked.

“Wrestling. He used to wrestle in high school,” I explained.

“Yep,” Granddaddy said proudly. “An’ this here move was my specialty.” And quick like a jack rabbit, Granddaddy hooked his leg around Mark’s leg and put him flat on his back. He leapt on top of Mark and straddled him. “Works every time,” said Granddaddy proudly.

I looked down at Mark.
 

“He doesn’t wear underwear, does he?” Mark asked.

“Nope,” I said sympathetically.
 

There was some rustling at the front door. I heard a gasp as Mrs. Kester stepped out onto the porch and took in the scene. “I want you to know that I just called the police,” she huffed. “I am reporting you for lewd behavior and drunkenness!”

“Get off him, Granddaddy!” I yelled. “Right now.” Granddaddy rolled off Mark with a grumble. “And get your pants on now!”
 

Mark stood up and dusted himself off. “Show’s over Mrs. Kester,” I said irritably. I’d had enough of this day.

“I’m going to press charges when the police get here. I don’t have to live with this kind of riff raff,” she yelled shrilly. Carol suddenly straightened up, walked over to Mrs. Kester and vomited all over her house slippers.
 

“Help!” she shrieked. “She upchucked on me. I’m suing all of you.” She ran back into her condo and slammed the door. I felt kind of bad for her.
 

I heard the sound of police sirens in the distance. This couldn’t be happening. Granddaddy must have realized what kind of trouble he was in, because he had skulked away up the stairs without a word.
 

“You know I could have taken him, right?” Mark said. I think he was only half-kidding.

I cocked my head and looked at him. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“No way!” He grinned, the humor of the situation was starting to sink in. “Not fair. I demand a rematch.”

“Diana,” Carol croaked, “I want to lie down.”

“Do you mind getting her up the stairs,” I asked.

“No problem,” he said. “At least my odds of getting barfed on have gone down.”

He scooped up Carol and I grabbed my guitar case. I opened the door and got everyone inside just as the police showed up.
 

“Probably best if you go down to meet them,” Mark said as he laid Carol on the couch. My dog, Max, ran around sniffing everyone with interest. His little fluffy white tail wagged with all the interesting new smells.

“Yeah, great,” I said as I made my way downstairs. The police were knocking on Mrs. Kester’s door. She opened it, shrieked something and pointed at me. Wonderful, I thought, the ending of a lovely day. I’m getting arrested.
 

I waited on the landing for them to finish in her apartment. A few nail-biting minutes passed before the two officers filed out. Before I could say a word, one of the officers looked up and said, “Hey, don’t you play guitar on Thursday nights over at The Crab Deck during the summer?”

What was this? A fan? “Yes,” I said hesitantly.
 

“Diana, right?” he asked. I nodded.

“Wow, I never miss a night when you are playing,” he said and pulled off his hat. “I always sit at the end of the bar by the big crab? John Laney.”

I actually recognized him. He bought me a margarita whenever I played a Jimmy Buffet song. Great guy. I always expected him to ask me out, but he never did. “I sure do. Small world, huh?”
 

“Yeah!” he said brightly.

I looked around at the other officers and at Mrs. Kester’s door. “So,” I began, “I guess my neighbor got a little worked up.”

He waved his had dismissively. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “She’s drunk. We could smell the alcohol on her when she opened the door. I told her she’s lucky we didn’t fine her for making a false complaint.” He smiled. I smiled back. He was quite attractive.
 

“Okay,” I said. “So no harm done?”
 

“None. We’re sorry to disturb you,” he said politely. As he started to make his way back to the door, John turned around and said, “Hey, when you playing again? I’d sure like to hear you sing some Jimmy Buffet. Make me feel like summer’s just around the corner.”

“I’ll be at McGlynn’s this Friday nine to midnight. You should stop by,” I said meaning it.

“Will do!” he said and clapped his hands together. “I’m looking forward to it. Practice up on that Jimmy Buffet now,” he teased.

As I shut the door behind me, I leaned up against it and breathed a sigh of relief. That had been a close one. Poor Mrs. Kester. This was not going to help our neighbor relations. I wearily climbed the stairs and opened my door. Inside, Carol was on the couch snoring noisily from under a blanket. Granddaddy was sprawled out on the recliner next to her. He was also covered by a quilt from my bedroom. Mark sat at the breakfast bar, his long legs stretched out in front of him, sipping a glass of ice water and munching on beef jerky. Max, my Shih Tzu-Poodle mix, was waiting patiently to claim his share. They both looked over at me at once. I think Max looked irritated to see me. He knew his beef jerky treat was coming to an end.
 

Mark smiled lazily and said, “If I weren’t so beat, I’d walk over there, pick you up and carry you to that comfy looking bed in there.”
 

My stomach flipped. Warmth spread all over. But I gave him the “yeah, right” look and said, “Well, I guess getting pinned by an eighty-two year-old man can be pretty tiring.”

“I’m never going to live that one down, am I?” he asked.
 

I walked towards him. “Nope,” I said with a smile. “Not a chance.” I reached down to pat Max on the head. He growled at me. I was getting between him and the beef jerky.
 

“Bad boy!” I said. “Go to your bed. Go on!” Max skulked off to his bed, turning once to look back at the beef jerky still in Mark’s hand. He gave me a dirty look, like if he hadn’t been cursed with dog paws he would have given me the finger.
 

Mark raised his eyebrows. “Boy, he’s really devoted to you.”

“Normally, he is,” I said defensively. “He just has some food aggression issues.” I looked at the clock. Oh, my God! It was one in the morning. What a mess!
 

“Well, I’d better get going. Busy day tomorrow,” he said. “How about you?” he asked as he put on his coat.

“Well, after I get these two going in the morning,” I said indicating Granddaddy and Carol sprawled out and snoring on my furniture, “I have to go back to temping for a vampire.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “What does temping for a vampire involve?”

“I see by your look that you don’t believe me.” He gave me a smile. I continued, “His name is Vann Pyres and he actually wears a black cape. I have to turn hand-written manuscripts—written with a quill and inkwell, mind you—into formatted Word documents.” I cringed just thinking about my day tomorrow.

“Spinning straw into gold, huh?” he asked with a smile. He stepped close enough for me to catch a whiff of him. So intoxicating. “So Carol assigns you to these temp jobs?” he asked.
 

I nodded. “Yep, I’ve worked for her for three years. She takes good care of me. She does a great job.” We started to walk over to the door.

He glanced over at the couch. “Well,” I said hurriedly, “tonight is not a fair representation of her normal professional self. She was just having a bad day. Some quarterly numbers are off and her boss is coming in tomorrow.”

“Sounds tough,” Mark said and then reached out and grabbed me around the waist.

His lips were inches from mine and his breath smelled faintly of beef jerky. Spicy, manly—wow—he even made beef jerky smell good. “I want to thank you,” he said softly. “For one of the most interesting nights I’ve had in a long time.” And then his lips were on mine. They were warm and full and my body flushed in response. I leaned into him and felt the hardness of his lean, tall frame. His tongue traced a lazy outline around my lips and I was done. I wanted to drag him to the bedroom, but it would just be too awkward with my overnight guests. And I don’t date guys I meet in bars. Period. I pulled away first, frustrated and on the edge. Be good, I told myself.
 

I looked up into his eyes and saw a similar struggle. He leaned back down as if to kiss me again. “My place isn’t far from here,” he whispered against my lips.
 

So tempting. “I can’t,” I said. “I have to be here in the morning and I was serious about what I said before. I don’t date or sleep with guys I meet in bars. And, besides, I just met you.” I shook my head. “It’s not my style,” I said with disappointment.
 

Mark pulled himself away and reached for the door knob. “Maybe we can meet somewhere other than a bar,” he said hopefully.

“Maybe,” I conceded.
 

“Maybe sooner than you think, Queenie Baby,” he said leaning forward and kissing my lips lightly.
 

I made a face at the name, but said in a whisper, “I’d like that.”
 

“Oh, for the love of Pete, get a room or close the door!” croaked Granddaddy from the recliner.
 

 
Mark waved good-bye and mouthed, “Good luck”.
 

I turned around and told Granddaddy to hush up. “Were you listening the whole time?” I asked irritably.

The old coot answered me with a snore.

Ten minutes later I was dressed in comfy pajamas, laying in my comfy bed, wide awake. Thoughts of Mark swirled around in my mind. What if I had said, yes, I’ll go back to your place with you? What if I never saw him again? What if this was just some kind of game he plays with women he meets in bars? Sometime around two, I finally fell asleep.

* * * * *

I awoke to screaming. The sun was streaming into my room. It took me a couple of seconds to remember last night. Then it registered in my muddled mind that it was Carol screaming. I jumped up and ran into the living room to find Granddaddy and Max lying comfortably on top of a squirming Carol. “Get off her,” I yelled hitting Granddaddy with a pillow.
 

“Don’ get your panties in a bunch, girl,” he said standing up. He was wearing just his shirt again.
 

“Where are your pants?” I said. Carol shrieked and peered from under the covers. It looked like she was still fully dressed.

“I can’t sleep with all my clothes on. You know I don’ like to wear pajamas. I left my shirt on to be gentlemanly,” he explained.

“What were you doing on the couch,” I asked.

“That recliner was killin’ my back, so I just squished in next to your friend over there,” he explained.

I glanced over at a confused looking Carol. Max was lying on her chest growling every time she tried to move.

“You too!” I said as I swatted Max. Max growled. I hit him again. He got the point and stalked off to his food bowl where, of course, there was no food yet. He looked at me like he couldn’t believe how bad his luck was that I was the one that picked him out at the SPCA. Right back at you buddy, I thought.

“What time is it?” she asked sitting up.
 

“Seven forty-five,” I replied.
 

“Oh, my God,” she cried. “I’ve got to get to work. I have to open at eight thirty!” She searched around for her purse and found her glasses. “Can I use your bathroom?” she asked.

“Of course, use whatever you need. Is there anything else I can do to help you out?” I asked.

“Call me a cab, and, if you could, find a spare toothbrush and a pair of hose.” She was already in efficient Carol mode. “Oh,” she added as she went into the bathroom, “Do you have some pain reliever? I have a killer headache.”

Fifteen minutes later Carol was looking more like her old self. Her hair was smooth, her glasses on, and her clothes were a little less wrinkled from the shower steam. Amazing transformation, all things considered. I looked out the window just as the cab was pulling up. “Cab’s here,” I said.

“My shoes,” she said in a panic. “Where are my shoes?”

I looked down. “They didn’t make it out of the bar with us,” I said. “I am so sorry. You can borrow a pair of mine. What size do you wear?” I asked.

“Six,” she said looking down at my gigantic feet. “You’re what, a ten or so?”

“Nine and a half. Maybe you could stop at a store on the way?” I said hopefully.

“There’s no store between here and the office that sells shoes at eight in the morning,” she said dejectedly. “I have to go now.”

We settled on a pair of my slide on mules that at least she was able to hold on her feet with her toes. As I opened the door to see her out, I almost tripped over a pair of shoes in the doorway. Carol’s shoes! It must have been Mark. Carol jumped up and down and kicked off my mules.

“Hey, your new boyfriend is a lifesaver. You keep a hold of that one!” she said and waved goodbye.
 

An hour later I was dressed in a casual pair of slacks and a bright blue cashmere sweater and on my way to Shacks to get Carol a much needed piece of Monkey Bread and a cup of coffee. I had thirty minutes before I needed to head over to Vann Pyres’ hotel, so I decided to check in on Carol. She was already knee deep in temporaries when I walked in.