Biting Serendipity: April Fools For Love (Biting Love Short Bites Book 4) (5 page)

BOOK: Biting Serendipity: April Fools For Love (Biting Love Short Bites Book 4)
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“For you, Ms. Wet Blanket, impossible.” Gabriella shook her head. “Too bad she didn’t ask me.”

“You don’t work at Nieman’s,” I said sourly.

“Yeah. I could’ve come up with a great gag.”

I sighed. “I wish you
could
help…” I snapped my fingers. “You
can.
Both of you.”

“Not me.” Abigail waved her palms. “Camille told
you
to do this, and I’m not interfering with any orders of hers. Frankly, she scares me.”

“Strictly speaking, she said Thor and I have to do it, but—”


Together?
” They both shrieked it, their jaws practically hitting the floor. It would’ve been funny if I hadn’t been the one on the hook.

“Yes, me and Thor, but we’ve already decided we can’t work together. We’re too different.”

They exchanged a glance. It was obvious they thought I protested too much.

As if words could steamroller the fact they were probably right, I kept talking. “Besides, with two of us doing this separately, we double our chances. It’s only logical.”

“Logical?” Abigail started tapping and swiping on her tablet computer. “I do not think that word means what you think it means.”

“Let me get this straight,” Gabriella interjected. “You have the opportunity to work with Mr. All-the-Right Stuff, and you’d rather work with
us?
” Both eyebrows were up.

“Y-es? No.” Stupid eyebrows-of-truth. “Doesn’t matter. I just need one of you to run the camera.”

“You can run your own camera, if you do this prank.” Abigail flipped her tablet around to show me the screen.

An open refrigerator door filled it—and on one shelf in a pickle jar, was a truly scary monster head.

“Yikes.”
Vampire heads, chopped off at Nieman’s…
I forced my heart back down my throat. “Where will I get a monster mask that realistic?”

“With an inkjet printer,” Abigail said.

Now my jaw dropped.

“You print out a life-size color picture—matte paper—waterproof it, roll it into a jar so the picture is flush with the glass, and fill it with liquid.”

“It looks so real,” I said.

Abigail nodded. “Real, yet responsible. It’s not a prank that stains anyone’s teeth or ruins their clothes.”

“Or forever scars them via plastic wrap on a toilet bowl.” Gabriella grinned. That was her favorite trick.

“No, I’m only frightening the crap out of them.” I swigged the rest of my beer and crushed the can. “Best of a bad lot. Let’s do it.”

Chapter Three

That night I brought a ruler to work, to measure the shelf height of the refrigerator behind the bar for the monster jar, and maybe to play naughty school teacher with Thor… No, to plan. Tonight I’d measure, tomorrow I’d do a test run, and the next day I’d play the prank.

Maybe overkill on the planning, but I’d learned the hard way, when a high-school Jenny showed up where she wasn’t supposed to because I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to, that winging it led to disaster.

Gabriella talked me into doing the actual prank at Good Shepherd’s bell choir rehearsal. I’d tuck the monster jar under the big low C bell. Most of the ringers were members of the Lutheran Ladies Auxiliary Mothers Association. Nothing funnier than a bunch of proper LLAMA ladies running helter-skelter, arms waving wildly—except those same ladies wildly waving bells.

But first, I needed to do a test run. I decided Nieman’s was perfect.

I approached the bar cautiously, wondering if there’d still be body parts on the sidewalk, even though I hadn’t heard anything about it on the Volka Polka radio station or read about it in the
Zeitung
, our newspaper.

Someone had cleaned up. The window was replaced and the sidewalk was pristine except a scorch mark or two. I knew it wasn’t Camille—she wouldn’t clean unless the thing was so moldy it stood up and moaned “brains.”

I wondered how this would go in Abigail’s history.
The body parts all Terminatored into vampires and walked away.
Or maybe,
The legends are true, and the vampires were incinerated by the sun
. Solar combustion would explain why I’d never seen any vampires outside during the day—or at least, never too long. Maybe a combo of the two, the rogues had walked away and their spilled blood had incinerated.

The bar door opened to Thor’s usual disapproving glare. I grinned and pretended I was my usual well-behaved self as I trotted past him and stopped to let my eyes adjust—and what was the world coming to when his glare would’ve disappeared if he knew what I was really up to?

Once I could see, I stashed my coat behind the bar, casually removing the ruler, and glanced around for sexy glares. Thor was chatting with Granny, who’d gotten here before me. Normally I’d worry what havoc she’d gotten into, but this time I pumped air and mouthed a silent,
Yes.
Distracted, neither would walk up on me mid-measure.

I dropped below the bar and quietly opened the fridge and used the ruler. There was just room for the jumbo pickle jar I wanted to use.
Double yes.

Quickly, I texted Abigail.
We are GO for MonsterMash
.

 

After work, I practically ran home, gleefully anticipating tomorrow’s test. Or rather, tonight’s test, because it was two thirty two a.m. and this was now March thirty-first. T-minus one day.

The instant I got home I got to work, loading our printer with paper, running the steps in my head. Print out picture, let dry while getting a good night’s sleep, waterproof with breakfast, let dry while teaching, then put in pickle jar and take to Nieman’s.

First step, print out picture. Easiest part, right?

Naturally, our printer was out of ink.

I dashed out to the AllRighty-AllNighty, but Kurt didn’t stock ink. Filled with panicked indecision, I finally decided I’d buy a refill at the campus bookstore my first break between classes, and run home to print in my second break, and grabbed a frustrated forty winks.

My half-assed plan worked about that well. By arriving early at school and dashing out three separate times—first to find, then to take to the cashier, then to pay—I managed to get my ink. That blew my schedule all to hell. Even cutting short my office hours, as I hurried home I knew even if I printed the face and waterproofed it before I had to leave for Nieman’s, the waterproofing would never dry in time.

No dry monster, no test, and tomorrow was April Fools. I’d have to do the prank cold, not even knowing if it was funny enough.

I ran the whole way home, trying to figure out how I’d make it all fit in an impossible time frame, fretting as I ran inside—straight into Frankenstein.

I screamed like a little girl.

Laughter broke out. After I stuffed my heart back into my chest and glared black death at my guffawing roommates, who’d seen me coming and had been right behind the door holding the monstrous thing at face level, Gabriella explained.

“I used my art supplies and drew the most horrific monster face I could. Abbie and I tinted the water, then stuck the paper in with just enough distance between page and glass to make it swim murkily. See?” She raised the pickle jar again.

“Yes.
Thanks.
” I stuck a hand between me and Mr. Monster, who looked horrifically real. I was grateful for their effort on my behalf, but not the new white hairs
poinging
out of my skull.

I hid the thing in my gym bag and went into Nieman’s, my excuse ready that Nixie asked if she could borrow my sparring gear, and I was dropping it off after work. Nobody asked. I was disappointed.

While Buddy was turned to grab a pricy bottle of whiskey from the highest shelf, I slipped the jar with the head onto the top shelf of the under-bar refrigerator. The thing looked so real, it scared even me. Surely, it’d give Buddy a turn. Maybe I’d even get a little yip out of him. I smiled in anticipation.

This prankster stuff wasn’t so bad. Frankly, now that it was underway, I was having fun.

A more realistic touch occurred to me, and I opened the refrigerator again, shoved the monster jar back an inch, and pulled a bottle of olives in front of it. Then I uncovered the olive dish in the drink prep area and stuffed all but one of them in my mouth.

I was still chewing when Thor turned from talking with Granny and caught me, raising his version of the Eyebrow Of Truth.

“What are you doing?”

I grinned innocently—like an innocent chipmunk with unchewed olives in my cheeks—chomped a few times and swallowed. “Nothing.” It was true. I’d already done it.

Frankly, I was having a lot of fun. I grabbed my tray and went to work, optimism bubbling, waiting for the fireworks.

Even Granny’s stripping seemed less like her trying to creatively maim herself on her underwear and more impish fun. As I ferried beer, I kept half an eye on her, half an eye on the bar where the refrigerator was, and mulled over how I’d set up the camera when I actually played what was sure to be a prize-winning prank at the church. Probably prop my phone on the organ, with a clear view of the low C bell.

It wasn’t long until Buddy reached for the last olive, then bent and opened the refrigerator door to get more. I waited for the shout, trying to control my giggles.

He shut the door, his face unchanged, full jar of olives in hand. Nothing. No scream, no shout, not even a moue of distaste.

Hadn’t he seen it?

The instant I could, without being too suspicious, I sneaked behind the bar and opened the refrigerator. No, there was my head…

Something looked different about it. Sure, there were the fangs, but the cheekbones were too high and broad…I knelt to get a closer look.

And
shrieked.
That was a
real head
in there. Broad cheekbones, blond…
Cutter.
My whole body went cold.

“Miss Camille?” Buddy called from behind me. “Sera saw the…complication.”

I was trembling on my knees when she came around the bar. “
Don’t mind that.
” Her voice echoed. “Cutter’s boss owes me money for the window, and for that stunt Cutter pulled the other night.” She shrugged. “I’m just making sure I get paid.”

As she stood, I realized Thor was there, hovering with a concerned expression, and that he’d been there for a while. As if…he cared.

“You all right?” He took my elbow and helped me to my feet.

Wow. Cutter’s head was surreal, but Thor’s solicitude was freaky.

“Yes.” Freaky, but surprisingly therapeutic. As his body heat cut through the cold shivers, I sighed. “I was trying out an idea for my April Fools’ Day prank. It, um, backfired.”

“Ah.
Your
prank.” His tone turned brusque. “I’ll let you get to work then.” Whatever caring I’d imagined was gone now as he turned and walked away.

Sighing again, oxygen suddenly being thin, I grabbed my tray and got back to work.

A short time later, I was waiting to ask Buddy for a pitcher while he tapped glasses for Jenny.

“Hey, Sera,” she greeted. As each came from his hand, she loaded her tray. “Did I hear you’re doing an April Fools contest prank?”

Trying to but failing,
I nearly said. But my being grumpy wasn’t her fault. “Yes. I have to. Camille picked me to represent the bar.”

“I’ve always wanted to do one, but I’ve been too scared.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a lot harder than it looks.” I grimaced in the direction of the refrigerator. Grimace wasn’t grumpy, right?

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She picked up her tray and spun away.

“A pitcher,” I said to Buddy, when her words hit me. “Keep it in mind for what…?” I turned, mouth dropping, and watched her hips swing as she sauntered around a table, delivering beers. Oh no. Surely, I’d misread that little saucy spin, that perky walk.

She wasn’t going to play a prank just because I was?

Was she?

Jenny had mimicked me before, in high school—and nearly ruined her life. She was the major reason I cleaned up my act, so she wouldn’t get in trouble trying to be me. But now…

What if she was copying my bad behavior again?

While I waited tables, fumbling beers because my hands were like ice, I told myself I’d imagined that gleam in her eye. Bad enough I’d been scared half to death by my own prank. But what Goddess of Gotcha had I pissed off, that the one time I’d cut loose and had a little fun—because my employer made me, no less—might add a Jenny-size disaster, too?

I was never having fun again.

Gabriella phoned me. “How’d it go?”

“The jar thing backfired.”

“Crap. Okay, Abbie’s on it. We’ll get you another prank pronto.”

“We’ll have to test it while Jenny is on her lunch break.” I didn’t want her getting any ideas beyond whatever ones she already had. “Can you make it in half an hour?”

“Can do.”

Shortly, my two roomies showed up with a box of a dozen creme-filled donuts.

“Delicious creamy-good donuts? What kind of prank is that?” I asked. “Ha-ha, delighted your taste buds.”

In answer, she scooped a fingerful of luscious cream and offered me a taste. I touched the tip of my tongue to the dollop—and recoiled.
Mayonnaise.

A shiver of disgust wracked me. “Oh yeah, that’s good. Granny’s in back playing strip sheepshead and Jenny goes on break in a few minutes. We can give it a test drive then. Let’s set it up.”

“Here.” Abigail handed me a webcam on a clip. “With this, you won’t hover, waiting for a target to try one.”

I cleared a spot on the end of the bar and attached the camera just under the rail, hidden, but aimed up at where faces would be.

As soon as Jenny trotted her lunchbox and NA beer to the back room, I nodded to Abigail, and she set the donut box on the space.

Then we acted normal—or tried to. We had tons of funny reactions from tongues pushing out to nega-orgasm faces to spit-takes. I was sold on the prank. This would be great tomorrow. Using the webcam, I could play it anywhere, anytime. Especially attractive, I could leave the box of naughtiness out in the lobby of my department, and no one would know who to blame—so no one’s flat would get egged the next day. Yeah, all in good fun, but the supermarket did a brisk business in eggs and toilet paper on April second.

So, I was excited when, half an hour later, I filled a tray with a pitcher, two glasses, and a couple bowls of bar peanuts and started for the backroom. As I passed the bar’s corner, I leaned over and grabbed the webcam, but it wasn’t there.

It had fallen to the floor.

Huh. Must’ve gotten knocked off somewhere along the way. But there had to be some of those priceless reactions captured for posterity, right?

I passed Jenny coming off break. My roommates waited in back. Granny had joined them, a new Kelly green tam perched jauntily on her head, apparently from winning big at strip sheepshead.

She patted my cheek. “Its good to see you smiling again.”

“I’ll be smiling even bigger if we pulled this prank off.” I hadn’t told her about the dance lessons, wanting it to be a surprise.

I passed the webcam off to Abigail who plugged it into her tablet. We all grinned at each other as the playback app came up, prepared to laugh our heads off. Prepared to win. I glanced around at my roommates’ faces, to enjoy their enjoyment.

“Yikes.” Abigail’s eyeballs practically popped from their sockets. “How many octogenarians can get away with wearing leopard-print crotchless panties?

“What?”

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