Looking for Miss Right Pt. 01

"I don't believe you!"

"Yeah, the two cats are rescues, and the two dogs I bought from a breeder."

"Smart ass!" she laughed, "You were having me on."

"Yeah, sorry."

"So is your 'nanny' babysitting, now?"

"Ellie's watching my kids, now, yes. But don't worry. She won't think a thing about me bringing home a strange woman in a wrinkled gown."

She smacked my arm, "Smart ass. So, is this a regular occurrence for you?" she kidded.

"Yeah, well, there was a time when it was."

I unlocked the door and let us in, "Ellie, I'm home. Put your clothes on; we have company," I hollered as we entered.

"Tough shit. I'm not getting' dressed just because you've got some floozie with you," Ellie answered as she came down the stairs.

"Oh, crap, sorry dear. Just kidding. I apologize for the floozie thing. I thought you were a different floozie, I mean, lady."

"No, that's fine. I'm just glad you're dressed."

Ellie laughed, then chided, "Jonah, introduce us, you cretin."

"Ellie, this is Chelsea; Chelsea, Ellie."

"Nice to meet you dear. So, quite a wild wedding, huh?"

Chelsea blushed a little, "Something like that. Um, if I can use a bathroom..."

"Right through there, honey," Ellie pointed down the hall, and I handed Chelsea her bags.

Ellie turned to me, "Well, you look like hell, kiddo. Hungover?"

"You've no idea," I groused.

"Sure I do. This isn't the first time. Have you kids eaten?"

"No, but we could do with something on our stomachs, something bland would be best."

"I'll make toast and oatmeal. Why don't you go change and say hi to the babies. Doggies are in the backyard, and Mack and Mattie are sleeping in the tv room."

By the time I was coming in from seeing Rocky and Angel, Chelsea had finished changing and was coming out of the bathroom. She looked great. Her long, flowing hair was now brushed out, and her blouse and jeans nicely accented her lovely figure. The snug-fitting jeans emphasized her womanly curves and shapely legs; and the summery, peach-colored blouse did nothing to conceal her large bosom.

"You look pretty amazing," I remarked, "Ellie's making us some breakfast. Let's join her in the kitchen."

"Thank you; I could use something on my stomach."

"Oatmeal and toast okay," I asked.

"Sounds perfect."

We went in and Ellie had breakfast on the table in the nook.

"Chelsea, dear...Wow, honey, you clean up nice!" Ellie remarked.

"Thanks, Ellie."

"Sorry dear, I was going to ask what you would like to drink? There's orange juice and milk, and I have coffee made, and water ready for tea."

"Tea, if that's okay?"

"Certainly. Have a seat."

As soon as we were done eating, we headed straight for Trish's parents' house.

On the way, Chelsea asked about Ellie.

"Ellie lives down the street from me. She's a widow, and we met when I first moved in. She brought over a welcoming basket, and we just hit it off. She helps me out with my pets and the house, and I help her out with repairs, yard work and such."

When we got to Trish's, her parents were up and starting clean up, "Good morning, Chelsea, Jonah. How are you guys after last night?" Robert asked.

"Good morning, Lisa, Robert. No worse for wear," I greeted Trish's parents.

"Good morning. Sorry to bother you, but I've misplaced my purse, a blue clutch. Have you run across that?" Chelsea asked.

"No dear, but you're welcome to look, and we'll keep an eye out," Lisa answered.

I asked, "Would you like some help with cleanup?"

"No, thanks, Jonah, we have a crew coming to put the house back together. We'll help you look for the purse. Any idea where you might have left it, Chelsea?" Robert asked.

"No. I would expect it should be on the patio, but I'm not really sure."

Robert replied, "Well, we'll start out there. Come on, honey. Let's let the cleaning crew take care of this mess."

"Yeah, sorry if we got carried away last night," I apologized.

"Oh goodness no," Lisa exclaimed, "most of this mess was caused by our son and his buddies. The cleaning is going to come out of his allowance."

We all ended up on the patio, which was a very large space. It was lined on two sides by tables with the rest on the lawn, around 40, in all. The Devlins are wealthy, and their home is almost palatial - my brother married into money. The patio is surrounded on three sides by the house and lined with shrubbery. To the rear, it abuts an expansive lawn. As the others started looking under the tableclothed tables, I started looking in the shrubbery - if something isn't anywhere else, look where it couldn't possibly be.

After 10 minutes, we gave up on the patio and started on the house.

"Oh crap!" Chelsea exclaimed, "My car! I just remembered; I locked my purse in my car when Brad and Trish left."

"Locked?" I questioned, "How are you going to get to it?"

"I have a key stashed in the wheel well...I have a tendency to lock myself out," she disclosed.

"I'm so sorry folks for all the trouble," she lamented.

"Oh, quite alright," Lisa assured her, "we're just glad it wasn't stolen or something."

"Well, we'll get out of your hair. Thanks for everything; great party, by the way," I said. "Don't go too hard on your son."

We walked to Chelsea's car, an older model Mustang in very good condition, and she went to the right-rear wheel well, retrieved the magnetic key box, got her key and opened the trunk.

"Sorry for all the trouble," she apologized.

"Hey, no trouble at all. Glad you remembered where it was."

"I feel like an idiot."

"Look, under the circumstances, we're both lucky we remember what our cars look like."

Chelsea laughed, "Right," and opened her clutch, "How much do I owe you for the clothes and makeup...Oh, I hope you take Visa. I only have a 20," she gave a half frown and scrunched her shoulders.

"Don't worry about it. It's on me. I had a great time...I mean, what I can remember of last night, and a real nice time, this morning, well, except for the marriage scare. You really are, um, you're very nice, and quite pretty."

"Well, thank you, Jonah, for everything. And so you know, I don't think it was the alcohol that caused me to do what I did. I was obviously very attracted to you. I remember you could cut a rug, too. If I wasn't in a relationship..."

She put her hands on my shoulders and kissed me on the lips.

"Your fiancé is a pretty lucky guy, and I hope I'm not being too forward, but if things ever change, you could give me a call," I tentatively offered and gave her a card with my phone number.

She took the card and smiled, "Jonah, I'll keep you in mind. You really have been decent about this...You sell heavy equipment? That's different."

"Mm hmm. It pays the bills."

"It must. That's a pretty nice house you have."

"Yeah, thanks, and if...sorry, um, you probably want to get on the road. How far do you have to go?"

"Oh, it's about 40 minutes from here, Canyon Trails..."

"Yes, off the 10. I know it."

"Right. Well, I do need to get going. See, you. Thanks again."

II. TONYA

I returned home and started packing for my next trip, to Elko, Nevada. It's kind of in the middle of nowhere, but the company I'm meeting with is one of my best customers.

About four p.m., my friend, Tonya, called. I'd forgotten I was supposed to call her this morning. Of course, I wasn't actually functional this morning.

"Hey babe, you okay? I haven't heard from you, so I thought I'd check on you. We still on for dinner?" she asked.

"Hi, Tonya. Sorry. I got a little wasted after the wedding. And, um, sure. Did you want to come over or go out?"

"Let's go out, but I'd like to come back to your place for a swim. It's pretty hot and a dip sounds good."

"Sure. What time do you want me to pick you up?

"I'll just come there. That way, if I stay over, you don't have to bring me home. You said you leave tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, thanks, that will work better."

"Wonderful. See you in about an hour?"

"Sounds great."

Crap, I'd forgot we had planned dinner. I really didn't feel like dinner. And I really wasn't up to Tonya. Don't get me wrong. Tonya is nice, but she is young, 22 or 23 I think, and she wants me to be more than I want to be for her. But I don't know what to do about her. Besides, right now, my mind was on Chelsea. She had made a big impression on me.

Since I broke up with my fiancée, I've been kind of bouncing around from girlfriend to girlfriend, not really finding anyone that I felt anything special for. I really want to find another woman like Stacey, my fiancée. She was everything I wanted in a woman - smart, beautiful, and sweet, with a head on her shoulders. I still haven't fully gotten over her. I know my traveling was an issue, maybe a bigger issue than I realized at the time, but when she said she wasn't sure about us taking the final step, I was pretty devastated. At first, I consoled myself with one-nighters, and short affairs. It was pretty easy to use my job to negotiate the 'commitment minefield', but it didn't take long for that lifestyle to wear thin. I was always a one-woman man, and found 'playing the field' to be an emotionally shallow existence. Of course, now, I was in a couple relationships, one that I wish I hadn't got tangled up in - Tonya.

Both women know about each other, but I think Tonya is hell-bent on nailing me down. Monica on the other hand is happy to be a 'friend with benefits'. She's a widow I met, completely by accident, literally. She ran her Audi RS Q8 into my brand-new, Soul Red, Mazda Miata. Though the car was repairable, she went that day and ordered me a new one. We became good friends, and not because she bought me a new vehicle - we just clicked. That was over two years ago when I was at a low point after my break up, and we've been there for each other ever since.

How I got tangled up with Tonya, I'm still not entirely sure. We work out of the same office building - I have an office in a small business complex, and she works for a company there as a receptionist. Anyway, we kept running into each other, and on a few occasions we had lunch together. She asked me to be her date at a company dinner so she didn't have do go alone, and I was happy to do so. Unfortunately, dinner led to more than just eating, and I woke up with a young Tonya latched onto me - in more ways than one. And I can't blame this one on alcohol. Mr. Johnson was to blame for that situation. Of course, at the time, I didn't realize Tonya had designs on me.

At 5:30, Tonya arrived looking pretty damn hot. She is very pretty and has a great body, but she is young, a bit immature for me, and a little too bubbly, if you know what I mean.

"Hey, babe. How was the wedding? Sorry I couldn't go with you. Did you see your brother off? Good to see you. Did you have a good time?" she peppered me, within the three strides it took her to reach me, wrap me up and kiss me.

She was dressed in her usual type of attire - a tight-fitting, sleeveless, pale-pink top with a lightweight, white linen jacket, worn open, and accompanied by form-fitting, pale-pink leggings, which made you do a second take to see whether she had anything on at all. She was wearing her long, light-blond (dyed), loosely-permed hair in a clip and hanging down to her mid-back. At 5'-5" and about 120 pounds, she is slim and compact with an essentially gymnast's build - with only her C-cup breasts not fitting that profile. Her pretty face is slightly round, and features 'rosy' cheeks, a smallish nose, medium-sized mouth with full lips, and killer-blue eyes. She is a looker, and a real guy magnet. Everywhere we go, you can see guys ogling her. I don't know why she glommed onto me. I keep hoping she'll meet someone more age-appropriate and dump me.

After a delicious meal of Mexican fare at Abuelo's, we headed back to my place. I knew the drill, and I can't say I was dreading it. Tonya looks pretty hot in a bikini and even better out of it.

After a swim, I got iced tea and we sat in the hot tub, soaking and relaxing. Though it was a warm night, the hot, bubbling water felt good on my body, which was still recovering from the wedding debacle. While we were soaking, we chatted, which mostly meant me listening to Tonya babble on. Every once in a while, when she stopped babbling for a second, I would have to interject some comment, "Oh yeah, I liked those earrings," or "Mm hmm, I thought she was overdressed too." Otherwise, I was free to listen with one ear and let my brain do its thing, which right now was thinking about Chelsea.

I was wondering how she was, whether I would see her again, and whether her fiancé was a done deal, so to speak. After all, she did sleep with me. Of course, I could blame that on me, that I was so irresistible she couldn't help herself; my charisma and machismo just overwhelmed her...okay, maybe not. But she did say she was attracted to me...Then, I thought, "I'm being silly; I travel a lot; I'm dating two women; and really, I know nothing about Chelsea"...But I still couldn't stop thinking about her, until Tonya slipped her bikini top off, tossed it at me, then slid her bottoms off and tossed those, too.

"You're not listening, baby. Maybe this will get your attention," she cooed as she stood and crawled in my lap, pressing her breasts into my face.

Yeah, it got my attention. I may be a little jaded when it comes to women, but I'm not so jaded as to be indifferent to a set of full, firm breasts shoved in my face, or a young woman snaking her hand down my shorts and grabbing my dick.

It was a long night, and I was wiped by early morning. After a few short hours of sleep, Tonya drove me to the airport for my trip to Nevada. In spite of being exhausted from the activities of the last two days, I did have a good trip. I sold one new and one certified, refitted tractor scraper (turn-pulls), and one new, articulated dump truck. My aggregate commission on those was a tidy sum. So, not a bad trip. Kind of made up for the crappy hotel and the less than spectacular cuisine on the trip.

Fortunately, Tonya wasn't able to pick me up. I called Ellie as soon as we could turn our phones on and she came and gathered me up. I knew exactly where to meet her. She always pulls into the airport bus lanes and parks. If they come and bother her, she pulls the poor old, deaf woman routine and gives them fits till they leave her alone or I show up. I've told her I'll pay for parking, but she says that it's much more fun to screw with the parking Nazis. Ellie's a special gal. If she was 30 years younger...

III. MONICA

Monica, first and foremost, is a good friend, probably my closest friend, next to Ellie. And while we 'indulge' each other sexually, we're not really lovers in the true sense. It may sound frivolous or shallow, or whatever, but we just have good time fucking once in a while.

Monica is a widow who owns several women's clothing stores, and spends most of her time relaxing by the pool or traveling. When she's home and I'm home, we get together for a meal, either at her home or at one of the restaurants where she has permanent reservations. You might be thinking Monica is older than she is, but she is only 42. Her husband was 50 when he died 3-1/2 years ago of complications from a heart attack while playing golf in 105-degree heat (yes, he was 11 years older than her), leaving her with a ton of dough and three stores; which she built into six stores in the greater Phoenix and Tucson area, and is branching out into the high-end boutique market with her first store opening in late fall, then has two more on the drawing board.

You would think she should have to work more, but she has a system - once a month, she spends a week reviewing all the accounting and sales data on the six stores, inspects at least two each time, then meets with her attorneys, accountants, six managers, and six assistant managers, then tells them all what they've done wrong. And she's not being capricious; she's very sharp, and knows the business forwards and backwards. She started as a sales clerk in one of the stores and worked her way up to assistant manager, then became manager when the boss fired the current one. It wasn't long before he married her. Now, on average, she fires someone every few months. She explained to me that everybody works their asses off knowing somebody's going to get the axe; that there's always dead wood that needs to be culled; and that every organization needs a regular influx of new blood or it becomes stagnant. She is obviously right because she is undeniably successful.

Anyway, Monica called me the night I got home.

"Hey, hon, what ya doin' this weekend?"

That was Monica's way of telling me to come visit.

"I was thinking of coming for a visit, if you'll have me," I lied.

"Lyin' sack of dung. But pack a bag, we're going to Cabo for the weekend. I need to take care of some business there, and it won't be any fun without you. Can you leave tomorrow?"

"I'm packing now."

"Meet me at my place and we'll ride to the airport together."

"What time?"

"Be here by ten. Flight's at one-forty."

"I'll be there. How long is the stay?"

"Three days. We'll be back Monday noonish."

"Works for me."

"Bye, sweetie."

So, I'm going to Cabo. I called Ellie to arrange for babysitting.

"Hi, Ellie, I'm heading out of town for three days, can you sit?"

"So soon?"

"Monica called."

"Oh, you man whore! Let me check my busy calendar...Have you eaten?"

"Nope."

"Well, if you fix me dinner, I'll squeeze you in, but just for the sake of the babies."

"I'm not a man whore, and yes, I'll fix dinner. What would you like?"

"Fajitas, honey."

"I'll get started."

"And margaritas," she added.

"What else would you drink with fajitas?" I quipped and hung up.

After dinner, I went for a relaxing swim, then showered and crashed.

I was up at five a.m. and spent the morning catching up on paperwork (which nowadays translates into computer work). Then I threw my bags in the car and drove to Monica's place in a gated community in Paradise Valley. When I arrived at Monica's, she was ready and waiting. I wasn't late; she's just a very punctual person. I like that about her. I loaded up all my gear - one carry on and a backpack, and we were off to Cabo.

As soon as we arrived, a waiting car took us straight to her villa. Servants came out and got our bags, and we hustled inside so Monica could change into business clothes for a meeting.

"Enjoy the pool, doll. I'll be back by 6:30. We'll have drinks and watch the sun set, then a late dinner. Tell the staff to have dinner on the table at eight. Have them fix whatever you want, and that will be fine with me. Love ya, sweetie. Gotta hurry."

I went and put my clothes away in my bedroom. Monica doesn't share hers. She's not that private, just has trouble sleeping, and even when she was married, she had a private bedroom. I took a quick rinse off and went for a swim. The villa has an amazing infinity pool that sits on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. The pool is straight on the house side, and bow-shaped on the cliff side - about 70 feet long, 15 feet wide at the ends, and over 20 feet wide at the center.

I did a half-dozen or so full laps, then got out and ordered a bottle of ice water and a Corona. After guzzling down the water, I sipped the Corona and looked at the bay - what a view, and the weather was a perfect 80 degrees with a light breeze coming off the ocean. Being a friend of Monica's has its perks.

After a quick rinse off, I went and put on a t-shirt and dry shorts - formal wear for dinner at the villa. Then I went to the bar and ordered drinks - margaritas for me, tequila sunrises for Monica, and told attendant to have them poolside in ten minutes.

Monica arrived at twenty after six, and came breezing in with a smile on her face. Things had obviously gone well. I had a drink waiting for her and a bottle of water. (Yeah, I know. This makes me sound like more of a man whore, but it's not like that. I like being there for Monica and she's always there for me, no matter what, no matter how big or how small the issue or favor - good friends take care of each other; and if that includes me catering to her a little, I've got no problem with it.)