Read Flirting With Disaster Online
Authors: Josie Matthews
Tags: #sexy, #collections, #Romance, #contemporary romance, #Short Stories, #Chick Swagger, #Flirts, #A Noble Pass Affaire Novella, #Romantic Collection and Anthologies, #contest
“Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former.”
Albert Einstein
S
omeone had poured a box of stale baking soda in Jude’s mouth and her stomach was not happy about it.
She gingerly rolled over to the crackle of crunchy sheets. Everything hurt and, as the room spun, her belly contested. Something poked her back. She reached underneath her and pulled out a wrinkled Almond Joy wrapper.
She loved Almond Joys, but hadn’t had one in over a year. Not since her diet…since losing thirty pounds, since becoming the ignoramus anthropologist studying homosexuality, who didn’t know her own fiancé was gay.
“You look…nice.”
The feminine voice came from the entryway to the beautiful suite she’d been assigned. Jude risked opening one eye and found a tiny, twenty-something girl with black, pixie-ish hair smiling down at her.
“I don’t feel nice.”
“No, I don’t imagine you do. Almond Joys?”
Jude managed to swallow, regardless of the absence of saliva in her mouth. “They’re like Mounds, but with little, nutty bundles of happiness stuck inside. I love Almond Joys.” She sighed.
“Yes, I can see that.” The girl’s smile was sheerly radiant. She stuck out her hand. “Nola Stonewater. I’ll be your maid and assistant during your stay.”
“Jude, Jude Duffy…
previously
known as Dr. Duffy. Why are you in my room, witnessing my unabridged demoralization, instead of outside knocking like a normal maid?”
“You didn’t answer my knock, so I assumed you were out.”
Jude lifted her head and squinted at the clock, the green blur reminding her of a certain misplaced, angry glare. She frowned, vaguely remembering
The
Beast
from last night. Put any man with a morose, chiseled face in a black turtle neck, black pants, and a dark room and he’d look like Dracula. Especially if one had a few too many Long Island Iced Teas. “What time is it?”
“Time for you to get up. You’re in the castle of secret desires, you know. You won this contest. It’s time you enjoyed it.”
Jude pulled the pillow over her head and rolled away from her tormentor. “I don’t believe in secrets, or desires, or enjoyment. My life is over.”
The bed sank under the weight of Jude’s perky maid. Jude didn’t like perky. She only liked Almond Joys.
“If it’s over, that means you get to start again. Out with the old Ms. Duffy and in with the new.”
Jude sat up a little too quickly. Her stomach knotted as bile screamed up the back of her throat. She scrambled out of bed and ran past the fireplace to the large, tiled bathroom. She slammed the door on her self-appointed “Fairy Godmaid”, and tried in vain to vomit.
This
was why she hated frivolity. It was unsafe and likely to produce vomiting.
She hung over the doubtlessly germ-infested toilet, no sanitizing wipes in sight. Chaos, anarchy, pandemonium…they all brought destruction. And she’d had enough destruction in her life.
What had happened last night? Had she actually hungered to sleep with a total stranger? The thought was preposterous. She sighed and rested her head on her forearm. The thought was…freeing.
“You okay? I could get you a few more Almond Joys, if you’d like.” Nola’s lilting voice beckoned through the thick mahogany door. Jude sat back on the black and white mosaic tiled floor, and leaned against the wall. Maybe a nice bath in the claw-foot tub would calm her.
She smiled. The thought brought on images of her spinster Aunt Agnes—the woman who’d sent Jude here as her dying wish. The woman who had taken her in when she was seventeen, ever since the day her famous rock and roll parents had died in that horrific plane crash—on their way to another tour, another adrenaline rush, another journey in search of fame and glory.
Away from her.
Fame had taken them from her, month after month. Right up until the day they’d died.
And then there was Evan, leaving her alone, humiliating her for the sake of a boost in his
acting career.
She hated fame and all those who heeded the calling. People who needed the attention and adoration of total strangers to feel good about themselves.
“Hey! You coming out, or are you staying in there the whole week?”
Fairy Godmaid.
Jude would’ve loved to stay in the opulent bathroom for the whole week. She could survive here…with enough Almond Joys. But that was cowardly. And Jude Duffy had been cowardly far too long.
She rose off the floor and bent over the sink to wash her face. She dropped her head and drank from the faucet. She’d hit an all-time low.
The door opened behind her.
“I’m almost done,” she gurgled. “I’ll be right out.”
“I hope you’re not done, ʼcause if you go out looking like that, you’ll scare the shit out of the other guests.”
Jude jolted, keeping her head in the sink, her lips at the faucet. That was not the melodic voice of her Fairy Godmaid. That was the voice of pure malevolent sin.
The Beast.
“I wanted to check and make sure you were okay this morning.”
Jude lifted her head and squinted at his reflection in the mirror. He still looked magnificent. His eyes were brighter than she remembered, a shocking amber-gold framed by chiseled, impassive features.
“Are you one of those natural-type girls who doesn’t bathe or shave, thinking you’re savin’ the environment?”
Her gaze shifted to her own reflection…
“Shit! Get out! Now!” She slammed the door and rested her back against it, risking another glance at her reprehensible appearance. Her normally tamed, mechanically straightened hair was frizzled, tangled, and practically undulating on the right side. The left side was matted flat, an Almond Joy wrapper stuck with a bit of leftover chocolate. Probably the same chocolate that was stuck on her left cheek.
Frivolity sucked.
Nola pushed her way in. “He’s gone. You can come out now.”
Odd how, in her lowest moment of fragmentation and debasement, a Fairy Godmaid was comforting. Must’ve been the leftover alcohol numbing her intelligence and pragmatic fortitude.
“It’s okay. Cross my heart, it’s just you and me. He was just stopping by after he left Miss Carmichael’s room this morning.”
Jude snorted
. Figures.
Professional, hot, male-escort-vampire had turned down frumpy her last night for… “Ms. Carmichael.” She sneered. They’d probably done all sorts of nasty, sexual
,
beastly
things. Things she knew nothing about.
She’d done what? Saved her virginity for the man she was going to marry? A gay man?
Jude shook her head and sidestepped her way past Nola to the closet. She flung hangers side to side, looking for something to wear for lunch.
Nola pulled the Almond Joy wrapper from Jude’s hair. “The castle is rumored to be haunted in October, you know.”
The tilted grin and raised brows on her maid’s face made Jude chuckle. “I’m sure.” She picked out a black, silk blouse and khaki trousers.
“You don’t look like the I-believe-in-ghosts kind of girl.” Nola bent and selected the wedge heels that matched Jude’
s outfit.
“I’m afraid not. I’m logical, steadfast, and immune to levity.” Jude stilled, her mind categorizing the adjectives she’d chosen to describe herself. She was officially, a
spinster
. Either that, or a golden retriever…or a civil war General, depending on how one viewed it.
Defeat permeated every muscle in her body, and she sank to the floor right in front of her closet.
“Ms. Duffy? Are you okay?” Nola sat cross-legged next to her.
A thirty-eight-year-old, boring, virgin, spinster. Alone, for the rest of her life.
“I’ve never even experienced an orgasm,” Jude whispered. “I’ve been so busy with my work, I never had time.”
Nola coughed. “That might be a little more info than I was looking for, but, okay. Get it all out.” She rubbed Jude’s back.
Her tears fell, and the anguish of a life of loneliness poured over her like molten lava. She didn’t want to be alone. She’d been alone her whole life.
“That’s it, Doc. Just get it out, then we’ll start anew.”
“I don’t want to start
anew
! I want a do-over!” Jude flopped back on the floor, executing what she imagined was the proper technique for a midlife temper tantrum. She’d never had one. She’d always been so composed. “I want to go back and be wild and impetuous and…and promiscuous!”
“That a girl. Reach deep.”
“I want to
not
meet my deadlines, and use my eating utensils without cleaning them first. I want to run barefoot outside and risk fungal infections. I want to use profanity!”
“Let’s hear it!”
Jude looked at her Fairy Godmaid and settled her teeth on her bottom lip. “F-f-f…” She shook her head. “I can’t do it. That’s too vulgar.”
“Okay, let’s start small. How about…” Nola’s lips twisted. “Son of a bitch.”
A smile curved the edges of Jude’s lips. “Evan Maddox is a son of a bitch!” She expelled a huge sigh. “God, that felt good.” She frowned. “But so disdainfully shallow.”
“We need to bottom out before we can rebuild,” Nola cooed.
Jude’s hopelessness rekindled. “I’m afraid I’m…un-rebuildable.” She sniffled and rolled onto her side, a fetal position for ruminating. “I’m doomed to be alone forever.”
A
new
Jude? Ridiculous, but she did have dreams and she did have needs; ones she’d never allowed herself to ponder upon for fear of being…selfish…non-benevolent…imperiously self-involved like so many of her peers.
Like her parents and then Evan, when they’d abandoned her over and over again in pursuit of their own dreams.
Could she be different? Could there be a happy medium? Had she given up reaching for the things she wanted from life, as penance over some misconstrued sense of unworthiness?
She flipped to her stomach and propped herself on her elbows. “Reinvention brings conflict. Conflict is disconcerting to me.”
“Aw, honey. A little conflict is good for the soul. It lets us know what we’re made of.”
She rested her face in her palms. “I should be content with my life.”
Nola frowned. “Content? That sounds like the thoughts of an abandon dog at the pound. You deserve more.” She smiled that impish smile. “What do you
want
, Jude Duffy?”
Jude rested her chin on the backs of her hands. Lying on any floor was emphatically disgusting. She hardly recognized herself. Maybe that was a good thing because, so far, being Dr. Jude Duffy had yielded very little happiness.
“A child.” Someone to love, a family. She’d never been part of a real family. She wanted one of her own. “I’ve published a few children’s books between my journal publications.”
Fairy Godmother became silent for a moment. “Wow. I was really hoping for easy. Like a new job or a better haircut or something.” Nola stood, grabbed Jude’s hand and pulled her to her unsteady feet. “But we can work with that. You’re at Castle Alainn in the most mystical month of the year. October is when the ghosts of the
Tragic Lovers
haunt, looking for star-crossed lovers to unite. What about a nice man to date?”
Jude slumped. “Yes, I suppose I’m asking for too much.” She didn’t really
want
a man. They were…recalcitrant at best and had never brought her happiness. She just wanted the baby one could provide.
“What about adoption?”
Jude shook her head. Her co-worker had waited seven years for her adoption to become final. “I’m too old to wait for the paperwork to go through.”
“Artificial insemination?”
She grimaced. “One doesn’t really know whose genes are in that tube. I’d like to at least know something about my child’s father’s genetics. Only…” She turned her back on Nola and rummaged through her shoe selection for the week.
“What?” Nola encouraged.
Jude sighed and turned to her confidant. “I’ve only had one man interested in me my whole life. And he was gay. Those are not promising statistics.”
“Statistics shouldn’t be applied to love.” Nola rested her hands on her slim hips. “Let’s start with having a little fun getting to know the new Ms. Duffy. Now get dressed and be down in the lobby in thirty minutes. I have a feeling your life is about to get interesting.”
Nola closed Jude’s suitcase and stowed it in the closet. She walked toward the suite door, then turned back with a smile. “One never knows when one’s destiny will be fulfilled.”
She winked and left Jude to her own thoughts…and her
hair
.
Who the heck “one” was, Jude had no idea. Certainly not her.