Tuesday Tales: From the Word PEARL

Welcome back! This week’s Tuesday Tales’ authors are writing to the word prompt PEARL. I’m continuing with my Christmas Romance Comedy, Naughty Rudolph. Enjoy!

When we got to my building, he stopped outside the door. Could he really be smart enough to realize he wasn’t going to get lucky tonight despite the fact that he’d shelled out more than one hundred and fifty bucks for dinner?

“I’m having a moving sale next weekend. If there’s anything you would like that I’m not taking with me, just say the word and it’s yours. There are a few things we bought together…”

Bought together? That was rich. The only thing we’d ever bought together might’ve been groceries.

His voice trailed off. “You’re awfully quiet. I hope you didn’t catch something from one of those snotty-nosed monsters you teach.”

Snotty-nosed monsters? And I’d wanted him to father my children? How could I have been so blind?

“I have a bit of a headache,” I admitted.”

“Of course. It is almost your time of the month.”

As I said, he hated surprises, but I hadn’t realized he tracked my damn cycle. Probably had the information entered in his electronic watch.

“Listen,” he said, his tone smarmy as if he were doing me a favor. “I’ll just go home. I’ll be around for another week since I need to get up there and familiarize myself with the area while Uncle Albert is still around to smooth my takeover and introduce me to the people who matter most.” He bent over and kissed my cheek. “Go on up, take a couple of analgesics, and go to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning. I’ll call you mid-week.”

I nodded. “Thanks, and Doug, I really am happy for you. It’s just that all this came as a huge surprise. I’ll think about the stuff you have and let you know, but offhand all I can think of are the pearl-handled steak knives I bought last spring.” The ones I would love to stick in his back. “They match the ones I have. You can never have too many steak knives. Goodnight.” I turned and entered the building.

Walter Stafford, the building manager, was working on the elevator.

“Sorry, Ms. Howard. You’ll have to take the stairs. I can’t figure out why this dang thing isn’t working, and the company can’t send a man out until tomorrow.”

I groaned. Thank God I only lived on the fourth floor. Three flights of stairs wouldn’t kill me, right?

Wrong! By the time I reached my floor, I was huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf about to blow down someone’s house.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.