QUEENIE BABY: On Assignment (7 page)

“Didn’t they eat meat in medieval times,” I asked.

“Well, of course they did,” he said as if he were talking to a child. “Their barbers were also their surgeons, but I doubt you would go to your hairdresser to get your appendix removed.” He smiled at his wittiness. I wasn’t impressed. I could have done without vegan lunch with The Count. Where’s the wine already?

Phillip arrived and opened the wine with a flare. The Count sniffed the cork appreciatively. “Nice,” he proclaimed, and swirled a little around in his glass.

Come on and drink already. I was getting antsy. This lunch was taking way too long. I had more medieval drivel to translate and a crotchety old man to drive back to Delaware. I looked at my watch.
 

“Here you are, my dear.” Mr. Pyres handed me a glass of wine. I took a big swig. It was delicious. Finally, something going my way today. I think he was disappointed that I didn’t let it breath and swirl it around on my tongue. “It’s a fine Chardonnay not a beer, Diana.”

“Wonderful,” I pronounced. “Thank you for taking me to lunch. You mentioned some additional projects?” The wine was already starting to work its magic. I felt relaxed and ready to handle whatever wacky proposal The Count threw at me.

“Yes,” he said. “I would like to engage your services after I leave the area. I will be traveling to do more research. I would like to mail you my manuscript pages as I write and have you submit the finished product directly to my publisher.”

Nothing crazy about that. “Sounds great. That would be fine with me.” I took another sip of wine. Wow, it was good.

“Good,” he said. “Now that we have that taken care of, I have a more personal proposal to discuss.” Oh, here we go, I thought. I knew it was going too well.
 

Phillip arrived with our vegan lunches. I leaned back to let him place my plate in front of me. I looked down. Not bad. Some fruit and vegetables and flat, cracker-like bread. Vann Pyres tucked in his napkin and made quick work of his plate. I picked at my plate and drank more wine, waiting for him to continue.
 

“As I was saying, I have need of your services for a more personal matter.” He wiped his mouth and continued. “I have spent most of my life traveling the world and researching medieval literature. I’m going to be sixty years old soon and have yet to settle down, I’m sad to say.” He looked like a lost puppy. “This year I have resolved to put time and effort into finding that someone special. Then miracle of miracles you appear at my doorstep,” he said with a smile.

Whoa, where’s this going? He better not be thinking of settling down with me. Geez, you type a few pages correctly and all of a sudden he’s talking about settling down? I needed to put the brakes on this pronto. “Mr. Pyres, I am flattered that you see me as a miracle that appeared on your doorstep, but I don’t see how I can help you with settling down.”

He held up a hand. “Ahh, but I do,” he said with a slightly creepy smile. “I’d like you to help me meet appropriate partners using a
computer
.”

What the heck? “You want me to help you meet women online?” I asked incredulously.
 

He nodded. “You see how desperate I am. I am willing to do anything. Even use one of those infernal devices,” he spat out. “I abhor them, but I understand they might be useful to someone in my unique position. If you agree to help me, I will pay you double your hourly rate.”

I took another drink of wine. Double pay sounded great, but how impossible of a job would this be? “Just to clarify,” I said, “you want to pay me to help you meet women over the internet in hopes of finding someone to live happily ever after with?” I asked.

“Exactly what I am proposing.” He took another bite of salad.

“Okay,” I said slowly, “you realize this means you have to have an online presence, as in email and Facebook accounts? I’ll also have to sign you up at dating websites. All kinds of stuff. You sure you want to do this?”
 

“As long as I don’t have to touch one of those things, yes. I would like you to handle all the arrangements on the computer.” Phillip stopped by to see if there was anything we needed and left the check.
 

“So are you up for the challenge, Diana?” he asked.

It would rate as the most bizarre temporary assignment to date, but for double pay I was in. “Sure thing, when would you like to start?”
 

* * * * *

I was back in my car and heading for my condo at the stroke of four. I needed to get Granddaddy back to Delaware before he had a chance to cause any more problems. Mr. Pyres and I had agreed to start finding his soul mate tomorrow. I decided to check in with Carol to see how her day went and tell her about my new project. Okay, yes, I was also hoping to hear more about Mark.
 

I plugged in my Bluetooth and said, “Call Greene’s Staffing.”

“Greene’s Staffing Services,” a deep male voice answered. Mark! I quickly disconnected the call.

“Call Carol cell,” I said.
 

“Calling Carol cell,” the assistant answered.

Carol picked up on the first ring. “Hi, Diana,” she groaned.

“Hey, what’s going on? I just called the office and Mark answered.”

“I’m home with a pulled muscle in my back,” she said. “He ended up calling a cab to take me to my doctor. I’m on some great pain killers right now and I’m out of work for the rest of the week.”

“Oh man, I’m sorry, Carol.”

“No worries at the moment at least. I feel too relaxed to worry right now.” She sounded high as a kite. “I think it’s kind of funny that Mr. Greene is stuck running his own business. Good luck!” she said with a cackle.

I had to admit that was a pretty funny picture. “I feel almost sorry for him,” I said.

“I don’t,” she sounded miffed. “I think he actually believes I might be a thief. Like I’m cooking the books or taking kickbacks or something.”

“Well, he’ll figure that out soon enough. If he doesn’t, then I’ll set him straight.”

“Thanks, Diana,” she said with a sniff. “How was your day with Mr. Pyres?”

“He took me to lunch,” I said.

“Vegan lunch?” she asked.

“Yep. And he wants me to work on a special project paying double.”

“That sounds promising. What’s he want you to do?” she asked.

“Find him a soul mate online,” I replied.

“Good one, Diana,” she replied sleepily. “You had me going for a minute there.”

“I’ll give you the details when you’re less loopy,” I said.

We hung up just as I pulled up to my condo. No sign of police officers, firemen, or paramedics. That was a start. Mrs. Kester’s condo looked dark and deserted. I crept past quietly. In the hallway I detected an odor that smelled suspiciously like fried bacon. I opened my door and found Granddaddy happily munching on a sandwich. Max was sitting on the couch next to him eating a piece of bacon. My kitchen was trashed, but everything appeared to be intact.
 

“Hey, there Queenie Baby!” he said. “Join us for a bacon and cheese sandwich.” He patted the couch. Max looked at me and growled. He knew his bacon and couch moments were numbered.
 

“No thanks,” I said and shooed Max off the couch. “I need to take him for a walk before we head to Ashley’s.”

Granddaddy nodded in agreement. “I talked to your sister a while ago. She said to tell you Dan’s grillin’ tonight so yer welcome to stay to dinner. They got his friends over workin’ on her screened-in porch this afternoon.”

“We’ll see,” I said as I went off to change out of my work clothes. Dinner at my sister’s was not for the faint of heart. Three kids, a psychotic dog, and a redneck husband made for an interesting time on a regular day. Add a bunch of Budweiser drinking, tobacco chewing contractors and who knew what could happen.

C
HAPTER
S
IX

THE RIDE TO Delaware was thankfully uneventful. Granddaddy was more quiet than usual, probably in anticipation of my sister’s wrath at his latest antics. The view from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge was particularly beautiful in the late afternoon. We were a little ahead of the five o’clock rush hour, so the trip to my sister’s house west of Dover went smoothly. My thoughts turned again to Mark. Will I see him again? Probably. Do I even want to see him again? Definitely. I wondered how he was holding up at the staffing agency without Carol. I bet that was something to see. My phone rang. I clipped on my Bluetooth and answered.
 

“Diana?”

“Yes,” I said.

“This is Mark at Greene’s Staffing.”

My stomach fluttered. How did he do that to me? “Yes,” I said again.

“Look,” he said, “I know you’re not happy with me, but I need your help.” He sounded sincere enough.

“With what?” I asked.
 

Granddaddy leaned over. “If that’s yer sister tell her I want some deer tenderloin on the grill.”
 

I tried to cover the headset. “It’s not Ashley.”

“Who is it then?” he asked. I waved my hand at him to hush.

“I’m sorry, Mark. You were saying?”

 
Granddaddy cackled to himself, “Jes’ what I thought!”
 

“Shhh! No, I wasn’t speaking to you. I’m talking to Granddaddy,” I said.

“You sure spend a lot of time with your Granddaddy,” Mark said.
 

“I’m driving him home to Delaware right now.”

“I know it’s asking a lot, but since Carol is out with her back the rest of the week she suggested I call you to see if you could fill in during the mornings before you go to your assignment.” He sounded desperate. I’m pretty sure I heard cussing in the background.

It would be fun to torture him for a while, but I let him off the hook. “I’ll be there tomorrow at eight, but I have to leave by nine forty-five to be on time for Mr. Pyres.”
 

“Great! I’ll see you then. Thanks, Diana.” He sounded relieved.
 

We pulled up into my sister’s long gravel driveway. I think her husband put their double-wide so far back from the road so that he would have a reason to buy a snow plow attachment for his pickup. Dirt and dust coated my car as we bounced towards her house. Kids and animals began emerging from the backyard at the sound of my car. A variety of work trucks were parked haphazardly next to the house. I pulled up alongside one with an NRA sticker on the window and a bumper sticker that read “My coon hound is smarter than your honor roll student.”

My niece Tiffany and my two nephews, Jason and Josh, came running up as we got out of the car. “Aunty Di,” said five year-old Tiffany, “are you staying for dinner?”
 

“I’m not sure,” I replied bending down for a hug.

“Mommy put chicken out for the grill just in case you are,” she said. Well, good to know I wouldn’t be forced to eat deer meat. Yuck!

“Yeah,” chimed in the older boy, Jason. “Dad says you’re too snobby to eat deer meat.”
 

I hugged him. “Not true,” I replied. “I just don’t like it much.” Did I mention my brother-in-law was a complete jerk? Picture Cousin Eddie from the Chevy Chase Vacation movie series meets the Marlboro Man. Definitely not my type.
 

My sister came out from the back door near the kitchen. “I ought to take a stick to you old man!” she said shaking her finger at Granddaddy.

“I tol’ you on the phone don’ be takin’ me to task,” Granddaddy bristled. “It was Annie’s fault for takin’ my gun without tellin’ me.”

“Fine,” said my sister with her hands on her hips. “I’ll leave you to Anne when she gets home next week.” She walked over and hugged me, smelling like french fries and Jean Nate. My sister was a head shorter and definitely rounder after three kids than me, but we shared the same long blond hair and blue eyes.
 

“Stay for dinner,” she said. “I thawed some chicken for you.”
 

“I know. Tiffany told me.”

“I bet I know something that you don’t know,” she said slyly.
 

“What?” I asked.
 

“It’s not what, it’s who,” she said. “Guess who’s here for dinner?”

I rolled my eyes. Really? We were playing a guessing game now? She spent way too much time alone with children. “I don’t know Ashley, who?”

“Rick!” she gushed. “He’s the one putting on our porch.”

“Rick who?” I asked.

"As in Rick your old boyfriend," she said smugly.
 

"Are you crazy?" I sputtered. Unbelievable. Just what I needed—my sister trying to fix me up with my high school boyfriend.
 

"I'm leaving," I said and turned around towards the car.
 

"Hope you're not leaving on my account," called a deep voice from across the lawn.
 

I flipped around. There he was. Mr. Homecoming himself, Rick Ellis. He was standing next to my brother-in-law, Dan, who was guffawing into his can of Budweiser. Idiot. A couple other contractor guys were behind him drinking out of red Solo cups, not sure what to make of the reunion. They were playing a game of Corn Hole. There were groans as one guy’s beanbag slid precariously close to the hole. “Come on over and join us for a game, Sis,” said my brother-in-law. Great, I have to talk to him or I'm going to look like a chicken. “Look out boys,” he said as I walked over, “Sis here has the Lady Luck!”
 

"Hi, Rick," I said crossing the lawn. He was still tall, dark, and handsome, with lines just starting to show around his brown eyes and full-lipped mouth. "Good to see you," I said and held out my hand.
 

He looked at my hand. "A handshake after twelve years?" he said with a grin. "I don't think so, Diana." He leaned down and wrapped his arms around me. His shirt smelled like sweat and wood shavings. His once lean athletic frame had filled out with work-hardened muscles.
 

I pulled away and looked up at him. "Looks like life's been good to you, Queenie Baby," he said with an appreciative glance. "Are you a rock star yet?"

"Thanks," I said flustered by the rush of nostalgia that flooded through me. "Ah, no, not yet. Still working on it." Our eyes were locked.