Chapter 2
STEFFI
She was cursed.
Had to be.
Not only was she lucky enough to rent the house next door to be biggest jerk in the world who constantly was filing complaints with the home owners association – but now her part-time gig for community service to get her out of a pesky traffic ticket for parking her car on the street in front of her place – again – thanks to her neighbor – had her cleaning the bathrooms at the stadium for free.
“I can explain,” her neighbor began again as Steffi shoved the filthy end of the plunger toward the man. He shoved both hands in the air in surrender immediately – eyes guardedly on the warped rubbery threat that loomed before him.
“Look, what you do on your own time behind closed doors to get your rocks off, you freak, is your own business…”
“My rocks off…” he started and hesitated, frowning. “Now wait a second…”
“I saw you diddling yourself, you filthy pervert…”
“I was making sure something wasn’t broken!”
“That’s what all the pervs say!”
“How do you know?” he shot back – and they both paused. “Actually, how do you know that? Do we have a problem in the neighborhood?”
“Yes – you.”
“More like your jalopy that’s leaking oil all over the pavement…”
“Ah ha!” Steffi seized, waving the plunger at him again. “So you admit it? It was you ratting me out all the time to the HOA.”
“Your pile of junk leaks oil!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “I cannot believe we’re talking about this right now – park it in your garage!”
“No,” she retorted. “It leaks oil.”
“I know!”
“Then don’t tell me to do something stupid like that.”
“Get it fixed and get it off the street.”
“It runs.”
“Barely.”
“Oh, why don’t you go away…” she waved her hand above her head. “Mr. High-and-Mighty, King of the HOA, shouldn’t be hanging in the bathroom with us plebeians…”
“I know,” he exclaimed, his eyes practically bugging out of his face as he gawked at her. “Look at you – and look at me…”
“I know I’m poor…”
“NO!” he shouted, slapping his forehead with both hands and knocking his baseball cap off his head onto the freshly mopped floor. “I’m in a uniform and…”
“Oh my gosh…”
“Exactly…”
“You’re one of those weird fan-boys who chase around their favorite teams – and I didn’t know you were gay, but as much dedication as you put into fertilizing your grass, I should have known…”
“I’m not gay!” he shrieked, turned around, and pointed at his shoulders. “Will you use your bloomin’ brains and put it all together?”
Sniffing delicately, she lowered the plunger and glared at him. “I’m not stupid…”
“You sure about that?” he retorted, his voice echoing off the walls. “'Cause I ain’t so sure right now…”
“I’m done,” she interrupted angrily – her limit for all of this day, the filthy stalls, and the crowds had reached its max. “I’ve had it, I’ve had it, I’ve freakin’ had it. In the words of Popeye, ‘I can’t stands-no-more’…”
“Oh, this should be good,” he snarled, leaning toward her. “You can’t get it through your thick head who I am – and now you’re quoting an old cartoon? I am not impressed in the slightest unless you are about to erupt a can of spinach from your bicep… or somewhere else – then color me impressed.”
“You’re a douche – and a jerk.”
“You’re a slob – and a nitwit…”
They stood there glaring at each other, and as Steffi drew in a deep breath, she heard the pounding at the door and the commotion for the first time.
She’d been so shocked someone had raced in and shut the door with her inside that it had set her back on her heels.
For a moment, she was frightened she was about to get accosted, especially when he started putting his hand down the front of his pants, but when she saw his profile, heard his voice… it went from bad to worse.
“DRAKE, I LOVE YOU…”
“DRAKE, COME OUT…”
“MARRY ME DRAKE WALKER…”
Steffi’s eyes hesitated as she remembered that the name on the back of the jersey was ‘Walker’ – and she knew her neighbor’s name was D.W.
, but she was pretty sure that stood for Douche-Wanker or something else insulting…
but no. She was staring at her neighbor, Drake Walker, who obviously played professional ball for the Timberwolves All-Star Team.
It must have shown on her face because he gave her a slow nod.
“Oh…”
“Yep…” he muttered grimly.
“If you go out there…”
“I’m gonna get pulverized, groped, and who knows what else…”
“Why are you in here?”
“Sheer stupidity and bad luck?” he lobbed back and winced. “Actually, I got hit with a ball – in my balls - and I need to see if I’m hurt.”
“Well, I’m not gonna look,” she exclaimed, leaning away from him.
“I’m not asking you to look.”
“Don’t fondle yourself in front of me either – go use a stall.”
“You’d be lucky to have me doing that in front of you – and I wouldn’t give you the time of day!” he shot back hotly as he moved toward the bathroom, before tossing over his shoulder at her. “And no peeking either.”
“I don’t do small favors…”
She heard him mock her as he disappeared behind the stall – and stood there waiting, listening, and slightly bamboozled by the adoration of the fans out there trying to get inside the bathroom… to him.
Douche-Wanker… her neighbor.
This guy didn’t match what she’d seen in the yard from a distance a few times.
No, she had glimpsed at the baseball cap pulled low or the popped collar, which made her give him the nickname almost immediately because only wankers did stuff like that – or guys that never got past their Depeche Mode era.
His sigh caught her off guard.
“Is everything all right?”
“It’s not broken.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I’m very relieved.”
“Which means you’re even more disgusting and just hit a world record if you’re already finished.”
He yanked open the bathroom stall door – glared at her – and pointed. “You’re no better than any of them out there.”
“Yes, I am, because I’m not gonna marry you, nor am I pleading to have your baby. I know you, so I know better…”
“Lady, you don’t know me, or you’d be saying differently.”
“Run for the hills?” she scoffed and lifted an eyebrow at him. “So, go on, Captain America. Go meet your adoring fans…” And he seemed to pale under his tan as his lips practically disappeared, so Steffi doubled down. “What? Not so excited or happy to be bragging about how wonderful you are?”
“I never bragged.”
“Uh huh…”
“I didn’t… and I don’t want to.”
“Well, I don’t want you staying in here with me,” she pointed out and waved a hand around as if to say ‘see’. “Besides, I’m finished in here and need to move to the next bathroom.”
“Is this your job?”
“No. I’m volunteering to get me out of a fine – a fine that I got when you volunt-tattled on me for parking on the street. Apparently, it’s against the HOA to park on the street even if you are renting a house.”
“Wait,” Drake hesitated. “That’s a rental? You aren’t supposed to have rental properties in the subdivision and…”
“So what? You’re gonna have me evicted now?” she yelled angrily, her voice vibrating off the walls as the clamoring grew quiet outside.
“No,” he hissed in realization and horror. “Look, you’ve gotta help me…”
“I don’t have to do anything.”
“I won’t say a word if you help me get out of here.”
“I should let them have you…”
“Help me out, please.”
“You don’t even know my name. You get me in trouble all the time and…”
“Steffi Roberts,” he interrupted sheepishly. “I got your mail once.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, it was a credit card ad, so I tossed it.”
“You got my mail – and didn’t give it back,” she uttered bluntly. “That’s a federal offense.”
“I wasn’t stealing it.”
“I wasn’t deliberately forcing the car to leak oil,” she countered and glared at him.
“If you are going to have me evicted, then you are on your own, buster, and I’m three seconds from opening that door so they can feast on your ornery carcass…
neighbor,” she finished mockingly with a hushed snarl that made his eyes widen in understanding.
She meant it – and he knew it.
“I’m not, but please help me get out of here and away from them.”
“How?”
“Pretend you’re my fiancée.”
“Ha! I’m not that stupid… and neither are they.”
“If we pretend that we’re engaged, they’ll back off slightly because then I’m not available.”
“Boy, you really think you're something – don’t you?”
“I’m loaded,” he tossed out haphazardly like it was something impressive, but that only served to piss her off more. Did he think she would do anything for a buck? Heck no! She might be broke from the lofty rent payments, but she had her dignity… despite the plunger in her hand.
“Full,” she agreed, finishing his statement. “You’re absolutely loaded full of…”
“I’m rich, Steffi,” he interrupted her quickly in a hushed voice. “I’m rich, famous, and single…”
“You think I care about that?”
“I’ll fix your oil leaks on the car,” he begged softly. “Heck, I’ll buy my fake-fiancée a new car… just help me out, and I’ll make it worth your time.”
“You won’t get me evicted either…” she hedged for a moment – okay, so maybe her dignity wavered slightly at his offer because the quote to fix her leaking valve cover gasket and oil pan was a staggering four digits.
“No – I swear it.”
“You better have been telling the truth.”
“I am.”
“Fine,” she sighed dramatically, shocked that she was going along with this stupid idea of his. He really thought so highly of himself that he imagined they would back off the moment he pretended to be engaged. “Stand behind me, and I’ll handle it, you big rich wuss.”
“Gee, such loving endearments.”
“I can think of better ones…”
“Why am I suddenly frightened?”
“Maybe you’re smarter than you look,” she muttered, grabbing the plunger in one hand and the dustpan in the other.
“On the count of three, you pull open the door and let me handle this crowd. You wanted a fiancée, then for the next few minutes, you’ve got one, but we’ll have to sell this, so follow my lead. ”
He didn’t say a word, except to grimly stare at the door, bracing himself.