Page 16 of Pucking Your Best Friend

“You’re an angel,” she replied, giving her another big hug, and then headed for the door. She wanted to end this day as quickly as possible so that a new one could begin.

As she stepped onto the boardwalk, though, she saw a grim man in a suit heading straight for her. Judging by his expression, he wasn’t looking to invite her for a piece of cake.

Connor Stone was all she needed. The arrogant divorce lawyer next door was nice to look at but she didn’t enjoy him shouting at her.

“James,” he growled as soon as he was within earshot. “This crosses the line!”

“What?” she replied innocently, even though she could see the huge sign tucked under his arm.

There was no ignoring it when he shoved it right under her nose. “No,” he said stonily. “Just no.”

“Come on, it’s just a clever line.”

“No!”

“It gives hope.”

“Are you divorcing your dream man? Then find a new one at Match Me?!That gives me eye cancer, not hope!”

“It promises a fresh start.” It was also good advertising, especially in front of a divorce lawyer’s door.

“It promises nonsense, because your agency is a joke,” Connor said curtly as he dropped the sign at her feet and turned on his heels.

She pressed her lips together angrily. “You’re always so grouchy, Connor! You need more romance in your life!” she called after him.

“And you, fewer chickens. There’s shit on your leg.”

“It’s egg residue,” she replied angrily.

“Yeah, and it looks like shit.”

Then he was gone.

Argh! Really. Divorce lawyers. No sense of love. Well, at least things couldn’t get any worse.

She took the sign and put it up in front of the Match Me! window, and then walked three doors down to the entrance of the apartment building where she occupied the top floor. Frustrated, she unlocked the door, raided the mailbox – a bunch of bills and a heavy white envelope – and trudged up the flights of narrow stairs to her tiny apartment. She wanted to shower and then get comfortable on the couch.

Her bones creaked as she cleared the last step and…hm... Maybe she was thinking too hard about showering, but why did she hear splashing? Frowning, she unlocked the door, stepped into the apartment, and …was greeted by a surge of water. Shocked, she stared into the open kitchen, whose slightly sunken floor was filled with water three fingers deep, as if someone was trying to turn her apartment into a pool.

No!

She stood there stock-still, staring at the horrific scene as water continued to seep out from under the sink, expanding the pool into the living room.

No, no, no. This was not happening!

Cursing, she threw the mail onto the counter and waded through the water. With a strange numb feeling in her chest, she knelt on the floor, ripped open the door under the sink, and reached in past the apparently broken pipe to turn off the main faucet.

The water stopped gushing.

It made little difference. The damage had already been done. This wasn’t a puddle. It was a pond. And it was overflowing onto the carpet of the adjoining living room, causing the cheap linoleum floor in the kitchen to pucker, soaking her clothes, destroying her upholstered furniture… She didn’t even want to think about how her neighbor’s ceiling below looked.

Maddie’s shoulders sagged as her only professional pencil skirt was soaked in dirty water.

It was a disaster. Her life was a disaster.

She’d had so much hope this morning and now…

“Maddie? Your door was open and…oh, fuck. What happened?”

---