Page 6 of Flirting With Disaster

“I wanted to check and make sure you were okay this morning.”

Jude lifted her head and squinted at his reflection in the mirror. He still looked magnificent. His eyes were brighter than she remembered, a shocking amber-gold framed by chiseled, impassive features.

“Are you one of those natural-type girls who doesn’t bathe or shave, thinking you’re savin’ the environment?”

Her gaze shifted to her own reflection…

“Shit! Get out! Now!” She slammed the door and rested her back against it, risking another glance at her reprehensible appearance. Her normally tamed, mechanically straightened hair was frizzled, tangled, and practically undulating on the right side. The left side was matted flat, an Almond Joy wrapper stuck with a bit of lef

tover chocolate. Probably the same chocolate that was stuck on her left cheek.

Frivolity sucked.

Nola pushed her way in. “He’s gone. You can come out now.”

Odd how, in her lowest moment of fragmentation and debasement, a Fairy Godmaid was comforting. Must’ve been the leftover alcohol numbing her intelligence and pragmatic fortitude.

“It’s okay. Cross my heart, it’s just you and me. He was just stopping by after he left Miss Carmichael’s room this morning.”

Jude snorted. Figures. Professional, hot, male-escort-vampire had turned down frumpy her last night for… “Ms. Carmichael.” She sneered. They’d probably done all sorts of nasty, sexual, beastly things. Things she knew nothing about.

She’d done what? Saved her virginity for the man she was going to marry? A gay man?

Jude shook her head and sidestepped her way past Nola to the closet. She flung hangers side to side, looking for something to wear for lunch.

Nola pulled the Almond Joy wrapper from Jude’s hair. “The castle is rumored to be haunted in October, you know.”

The tilted grin and raised brows on her maid’s face made Jude chuckle. “I’m sure.” She picked out a black, silk blouse and khaki trousers.

“You don’t look like the I-believe-in-ghosts kind of girl.” Nola bent and selected the wedge heels that matched Jude’s outfit.

“I’m afraid not. I’m logical, steadfast, and immune to levity.” Jude stilled, her mind categorizing the adjectives she’d chosen to describe herself. She was officially, a spinster. Either that, or a golden retriever…or a civil war General, depending on how one viewed it.

Defeat permeated every muscle in her body, and she sank to the floor right in front of her closet.

“Ms. Duffy? Are you okay?” Nola sat cross-legged next to her.

A thirty-eight-year-old, boring, virgin, spinster. Alone, for the rest of her life.

“I’ve never even experienced an orgasm,” Jude whispered. “I’ve been so busy with my work, I never had time.”

Nola coughed. “That might be a little more info than I was looking for, but, okay. Get it all out.” She rubbed Jude’s back.

Her tears fell, and the anguish of a life of loneliness poured over her like molten lava. She didn’t want to be alone. She’d been alone her whole life.

“That’s it, Doc. Just get it out, then we’ll start anew.”

“I don’t want to start anew! I want a do-over!” Jude flopped back on the floor, executing what she imagined was the proper technique for a midlife temper tantrum. She’d never had one. She’d always been so composed. “I want to go back and be wild and impetuous and…and promiscuous!”

“That a girl. Reach deep.”

“I want to not meet my deadlines, and use my eating utensils without cleaning them first. I want to run barefoot outside and risk fungal infections. I want to use profanity!”

“Let’s hear it!”

Jude looked at her Fairy Godmaid and settled her teeth on her bottom lip. “F-f-f…” She shook her head. “I can’t do it. That’s too vulgar.”

“Okay, let’s start small. How about…” Nola’s lips twisted. “Son of a bitch.”

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