Stella in Stilettos (3 page)

The ladies in the chat room went nuts again, by saying, “Me. Me.”

Stella grimaced. Work had turned into crazy-town with the arrival of Alex, and tonight, with the arrival of Mr. Right, same thing. She exhaled.
Only on a Monday
.

It took Mr. Right to say he was from Ohio to hook Stella. Her fingers flew across the keyboard like they weren’t connected to her brain. “Me too.” The reality of drifting into the conversation without any premeditated barriers surprised her. She flinched when a private message sprang to the center of the screen.

“Are you who I think you are?” Mr. Right asked.

His question produced several goofy responses, none that she shared. “Yes.” Stella downed half of her wine in one sip and sputtered from the burn.

Trish whacked her on the back. “Ease up, lightweight.”

Mr. Right wanted further proof. “Where at in Ohio?”

Stella stalled by rolling a pen through her fingers.

A minute ticked by. He gave it another shot. “Where?”

Stella chewed her thumbnail. “Columbus.”

“It
is
you.” He apologized for meeting this way and surprised her with the truth. “I haven’t dated in a while. Long story. Anyhow, I made the mistake of telling my cousin what I missed most about being in a relationship was real conversation. He suggested this route. Talk first. Meet later.”

“It’s been awhile for me too,” Stella admitted. “My friend…” She wrinkled her nose at Trish. “…talked me into this.” After that honesty, chatting with him didn’t take as much effort. They made small talk about the unusually frigid temperatures for early December, how gas prices spiked forty-five cents overnight, the new restaurant on Sawmill Road, and of course, Ohio State football.

Stella smiled when Mr. Right spouted a craving for dim sum.

“I love Chinese food too.” Stella’s mouth watered.

Mr. Right went on to say that he loved to cook; actually he liked to grill. “I make shish kabobs, steak, fish, you name it. And I wear an apron that says,
Thank the cook with a beer
! It was a gift from my stepsister.”

Stella smiled when she pictured the apron. “I make a mean quiche. Oh wait, real men don’t eat quiche.”

“I’m a real man and I eat quiche. We have to stop talking about food though. My stomach is starting to growl. Any chance you like to talk politics?”

Stella was happy to change from non-essential chit chat to something deeper. “I love to debate important issues.” They fell into serious wordplay concerning the recent presidential election and the economy.

Trish yawned. “You two are putting me to sleep.” She stretched out on the couch and closed her eyes. “Wake me when you talk about something fun, like sex.”

Stella giggled.

Without missing a beat, they switched to the road construction projects around the city.

“Road construction is like life,” Stella remarked. “There will always be potholes and orange barrels to navigate around.” Ack! Too much wine was making her needlessly philosophical.

“Brainy women are a turn-on.”

 “Uh, thanks.” Stella muffled a laugh so Trish wouldn’t open an eye and chime in.

Brains turned him on? If she could dazzle him with her smarts, maybe when they met in person…
If
they met in person… he wouldn’t care that she wore glasses, had a curly mess she called hair, wide hips and a total lack of chest. She was glad when he lightened back up with the mention of food again.

“Other than Chinese food, what do you like to eat?”

“Everything.” She quickly recanted. “No wait. Sweet potatoes are evil.”

“I love sweet potatoes. But we won’t let a vegetable stand in our way.”

Great line
.

Books followed. He was a huge fan of John Grisham, David Baldacci and Stephen King.

“I’ve read some Grisham, but my tastes lean toward romantic comedy. Something to make me laugh after a hard day at the office,” Stella offered.

Things took an unexpected turn to personal when he said he was originally from a small community north of Columbus. After his dad died, they moved to the city.

 Stella squirmed. She wanted to leave personal details out of the conversation, but he’d shared some so she gave him the minimum. “Marysville was my stomping ground. Went to college in Columbus and decided to stay after graduation.”

“No way.”

“Umm…what does that mean?”

“Marysville for me too.”

Stella fidgeted out of the chair. How weird would it be if he turned out to be the lanky neighbor kid who used to pull her hair on the school bus? Luckily, it couldn’t be him. She’d heard the hair-puller moved to Rhode Island.

Mr. Right asked about her job.

Stella puffed out her cheeks, went to the kitchen for a glass of water and came back to stand in front of the computer to stare at the screen.

Trish rose up from the couch. “Stonewalling him?”

“I’m taking a break.” Stella wandered back to the kitchen to put both the water glass and wine goblet in the dishwasher. Maybe she
was
keeping a subconscious sentry posted. When Trish joined her in the kitchen, they both leaned against the counter. “He grew up in Marysville, Trish.”

“Cool.”

“Not cool. He could be a classmate.”

“Did he ask your name?”

“Not yet. He’s probably working up to it. Right now he’s asking about my job.”

“He’s making small talk.”

“It feels like he’s trying to pin me down.” Panic wiggled into the pit of her stomach. “What if he’s someone I work with?”

Trish grinned that devious grin when she was holding something back.

Stella cocked an eyebrow. “He isn’t, is he?”

“Give your overactive imagination a rest and get real, Stella.”

Yeah. Working with him was kind of a stretch, although not impossible. “Please ask Ramsey for more information. Put him in a headlock until he talks.”

“I’ll ask him. But he said that you two should get to know one another without all the details upfront. His cousin isn’t in a hurry for a relationship and neither are you. So this is perfect.”

Stella eyed Trish suspiciously. “Guys don’t talk like that.”

Trish shrugged. “Ramsey does.”

 Stella returned to the computer with her fences higher than they were before. She responded to Mr. Right’s question. “I’m an administrative assistant.”

“I work in an office too. Not sure what my title is anymore – probably jack of all trades,” he said.

Stella tapped the keyboard without typing. She studied his replies. No red flags popped up. The coincidences, however, made her swivel the chair back and forth, straighten the pencils in the pencil cup and rearrange the paperclips in Trish’s center drawer so they all faced the same way.

Trish came in with a hand on her forehead. “I’ve had too much to drink. I think I’ll head off to bed. You should probably stay the night.” She gave Stella a toothy smile. “That way you can tell me everything over breakfast.”

Stella nodded. She’d had one glass of wine too many so bunking there was a good idea. “Thanks for talking me into this, Trish. All in all, it’s not so bad.”

“Why are you whispering? He can’t hear you.”

Stella zinged a pad of coffee-stained sticky notes at Trish.

“Your aim is off.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Keep talking to him and don’t get rattled if he tries to pull things out of you. That’s how two people get to know one another.” Trish vanished behind the bedroom door.

Suddenly it was just her and Mr. Right.

“I tried to talk Ramsey out of this. Good thing I didn’t,” he said.

It took a second for the compliment to sink in. Stella put her hands to her mouth and smiled into them. Before she could tell him she felt the same way, a private message from someone named Stud4U popped onto the screen, partially covering Mr. Right’s. The fool mentioned handcuffs and a buggy whip. She cringed and typed “Go away”.

Stella started to compile a sweet reply to Mr. Right but the name Stud4U blindsided her. “Noooo.” In her effort to get rid of him, she must’ve clicked the wrong box. She hurried to the main chat room. Mr. Right was gone.

The flyer was finished and the spring catalogue was nearly done too. Stella leaned back in her chair, took a sip of coffee and thought about Mr. Right. He seemed like a sweet guy, and for a short time they were just two people trying to get to know one another. They’d made a connection. And then fate stepped in; or rather, Stud4U did.

Stella took a deep breath and let the air slide out slowly. Talking with Mr. Right stirred things that were better left unstirred, like how great it was to kiss. She loved kissing. Not just light pecking; full-mouth extravaganzas that left her breathless. Of course, she missed hand-holding too. And yes, she missed the sex. Putting a hand on her chest, she closed her eyes. It had been too long. She blew out a puff of air, opened her eyes and decided that kissing and sex were not in her foreseeable future so it was best not to dwell on them.

Alex walked by and she bumped her coffee cup almost knocking it over.

How could he draw that kind of reaction when she was miffed at him? They were supposed to be in the middle of training. Maggie left a note on her desk saying she and Alex would be gone for awhile. Maggie wasn’t there, Alex was. Even more peculiar, instead of immersing himself in training, he was mingling. Yesterday he wanted to know how it all worked. Today he blew it off.

Alex was well-past her cubicle before she peeked out.

Everything about him said arrogant bonehead. Well, not everything. A few things. Actually, only one thing. At the moment, she couldn’t remember what it was.

He stopped at the copier, and she did what any fully-conscious woman would do – scanned his magnificent rear view.

His wide shoulders tapered to a narrow waist. And his butt…aye yi yi! Stella swallowed hard.

He half-turned to share a laugh with some of the guys and his profile made Stella’s eyes go wide. Muscles bulged from his chest and thighs.

The small pleasure of admiring him was dented when Belinda Pearson shot out of her cubicle and landed next to him.

Stella reacted with a hiss. She cocked her head and watched the blonde vixen move in. Belinda flipped her long, straight hair over her shoulder; on the way down her hand landed on Alex’s back.

To his credit, he moved away from her touch.

Belinda tried again. She put her hand on his forearm and stared up at him with adoring eyes. Bingo! Alex smiled and the hand stayed in place.

Stella hissed again.

Belinda’s success wasn’t a surprise. She was eye-candy too. Beautiful face. Big chest. Tiny hips. Fashionably dressed. Too much confidence. She would make a great model for their catalogue. Everything about her screamed ‘look at me’. And most men did. Some turned into obedient lap-dogs for Belinda.

A vision of Alex in a dog collar made a third hiss escape.

She startled when her phone rang. “Stella Matson.”

“Get your butt in here,” Maggie commanded. “Melvin’s being a brat.”

The boss had returned.

Stella chuckled into the phone. “What’s he up to now?”

“He won’t let me into my email. If you don’t hurry, I’m going to take a hammer to him.”

Stella snickered with each step; both from Maggie’s conversation and from the shoes Trish talked her into wearing this morning. Only she would be racing to save a computer named Melvin, while trying to keep her balance in four-inch stilettos.

When she was almost to Maggie’s office, Belinda stepped away from Alex to cut her off. “Sucking up to Maggie again?”

The rash movement caught Stella off guard. “When did helping out become sucking up?”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Belinda fumbled in her pocket and produced a tube of lip balm. “You’re going to need this.”

Stella started to defend herself, but clamped her mouth shut. She didn’t have to validate her actions.

Alex pushed between them. His gaze ricocheted between Stella and Belinda, before settling on Stella for one intense moment.

Locking eyes with Alex triggered instant lockjaw. “I…uh…” A burst of heat spiraled to Stella’s neck and cheeks. Before she could recover, Belinda was at it again. “Oh look Alex, you made her blush.”

The comment was childish, but effective, and Stella was certain her slightly-pink face was now a freakish shade of scarlet. She glared at Belinda and hurried to Maggie’s office.

“You don’t know how close I came to shoving him to the floor,” Maggie said when Stella closed the door behind her.

Stella swallowed her anger from the confrontation with Belinda to focus on Melvin. “How would you convince your boss that he fell off the desk?”

They laughed, but Maggie reverted back to giving Melvin the evil-eye. Stella had the same wicked look but it was aimed at the evil blonde hovering against Alex. For the life of her she couldn’t comprehend why she cared what Belinda did. Or Alex for that matter.