Mysterious Boyfriends Ch. 02

ALL CHARACTERS IN SEXUAL SITUATIONS ARE OVER 18.

Characters are fictional.

Also, thanks to all the readers who have reached out and become friends. For all those who have sent compliments, this story is for you!

Enjoy!

MJ

*****

Chapter 6

Adrianna: Regarding Laura

Wednesday afternoon I got a text from Shayla.

'OMG! Laura invited us to ML to show n tell. What do I do?'

I stared at my phone. I tried to remember the days of home phones. Jeez. While I was thinking of what to respond to Shayla I got a text from Laura saying how excited she was, and that she wanted to see all of us tonight. Was seven pm okay? I texted Laura that seven was fine. I texted Shayla that she should chill out and show up at seven.

Shayla, Melanie, and Laura were already at the table when I got there. Laura looked positively radiant.

"Did you see the video of Peter's proposal? Isn't that the most romantic thing y'all have ever seen?" Laura said.

We were all quiet for a moment, which made me think that Shayla must have also told Melanie about 'the speech'. Laura didn't seem to notice however as she had gotten up and done a quick twirl of joy.

"It was the most magical thing in the world," Laura said. "It's totally different from the first time when I was knocked up and my father had to go after Jeff with his shotgun and bring him back."

"What?" That was from Melanie. I thought she was kidding, so I smiled.

"Well," Laura had seated herself again and she scooted closer in to the table. "It's bound to be different right? Being sixteen and pregnant with an older guy you barely know who basically has to say he'll marry you isn't going to seem very romantic. Even though that's the only thing I have to compare it in real life I still think this was the most romantic proposal I've ever heard of, don't you?"

We just stared at her.

I saw my arch nemesis walk in and my face sqwunched up like I was sucking on a sour lemon.

"What?" Laura said.

I had a horrible taste in my mouth and was trying not to stare at the chubby mouth-breathing pig. I took a moment to calm myself.

"That's Bud Bear," Melanie said. "He moved here from Charleston. He's a thief and a cheat and at the top of Adrianna's shit list."

Laura looked at me.

"He plays, ah-hem, 'music' and it's these pre-recorded musical tracks that he illegally downloads on his computer. Then he plays them while he is preforming and pretends it's him playing the guitar and singing. He jumps around stage to distract from the fact that an entire band sound is coming out of one person. He goes around to bars and venues and says that he can play for less than a band. Bud undercuts the band, puts four or five people out of work, and gets double or triple what each musician would make because there is only one of him. He does a terrible thing and it's a terrible show. But some bar owners go for it because it saves them money."

"What a sleaze ball!" Laura said.

"There are other rumors," Melanie said. "Cheating on women, sexual disease, drugs, fired from some of his day jobs for doctoring the books. But that was all in Charleston. Here as far as we know he's only screwed over musicians."

"The first person I've seen in New Orleans that I know to stay away from," Laura said, twisting in her seat to take a good look at his dark hair and beady eyes.

"Let's talk about something else," I said. "I'm sorry I interrupted you, Laura."

"I was going to say wasn't it the coolest thing to hear Peter propose to me? Wasn't that just the nicest speech you ever heard? I think it was a great idea that we recorded it and emailed it to all our friends and posted it on Facebook. Don't you?"

I'm quite a talker but I just wasn't sure what to say first.

"Well? Melanie?"

Thank God she did not pick me.

"Anyone who wants to spend the rest of their life with you is filled with smarts and romantic splendor," Melanie said.

Well done, Melanie.

"There. See?" Laura said.

"You got married when you were sixteen?" Shayla asked. I wasn't sure if she was just making conversation or she was thinking what I was thinking.

"Sure did. Dropped out of school, popped out my Scotty, became a full-time mom. My husband's a jerk but Scott is such a sweetheart I never could regret it."

The use of the present tense regarding the husband wasn't lost on the three of us. Melanie and Shayla looked at me. I looked back at them. How come I get the hard questions?

I got the last one, Melanie's expression said.

"Um, so." Are you still married? No, no. That's not the best way to phrase it. "How long were you married?"

"Twenty-four years."

"No..." Shayla, Melanie, and I all said at once.

"Yup, would you believe it? Twenty-four years. My son has four children. I'm a grandmother."

This last bit just flipped my lid beyond what I could take. I made a noise. "Byoingg-oing-oing-oing."

"I know," Laura said. "It baffles me too. But there it is." She took out her phone to show us pictures.

"Oh, but first, I have to show you this incredible engagement ring that Peter gave me," Laura said.

Laura put her hand out in Melanie's and we all took a look at woven copper and gold ring with three tiny diamonds all in a row. Shayla's sharp intake of breath had us all looking at her.

"I know, I know, it's gorgeous, right?" Laura said.

Laura and Melanie bent their heads down together to stare at Laura's hand as I mouthed to Shayla, "What?"

Soundlessly Shayla mouthed back, "That's Tracy's ring."

Chapter 7

Adrianna: Regarding Angela

I admired that Shayla was portraying enough of an outer cool that she wasn't hurting Laura by raining on her parade. But I could tell that Shayla was stressing and I was stressing too.

When I'm stressed I eat, I oversleep, or I call Angela. There was no food on the table. I wasn't getting out of ML so easily to crawl back into bed. But option number three roared in to my head like a great big ball of need.

"Where's Angela?" I asked.

"I don't know," Laura said. "She was supposed to be here an hour ago." She put her hand in mine so I could oooh and aah over her ring.

I felt bad, like the jambalaya I'd eaten was doing the tango in my stomach. I simply stared at the ring and was quiet. What the hell did I know? I didn't know what Tracy's ring looked like. Maybe he just liked the style.

Laura took her hand out of mine and gave it to Shayla who looked like someone sent a poleax through her forehead.

"I know," Laura said. "Unbelievable right? That someone would give something so beautiful to me? But here it is. Concrete proof that I am loooo-aaaah-ved."

Oh, crap. This just does not bode well, does it?

Just then Angela walked in. She was tightly tucked and curled under the arm of a man who looked like a combination of just got out of boot camp and a character in a Where's Waldo drawing.

I half expected to see a book under one arm and a hunting rifle in the other. I immediately checked to see if he was wearing a plastic pocket protector. She looked up at him with an utter adoration that was raw Toll-house cookie gooey.

Ut-oh.

"Everybody, this is Burt."

"Hello, Ladies." His voice was surprisingly rich and deep. Burt was about 5'6", with military short light-brown hair, and tortoise-shell rim glasses. He smiled at each one of us in turn. He held out a chair for Angela.

"Sorry we're late," Angela said. "We were busy."

Burt blushed red from his neck to the roots of his hair.

Melanie decided to be the one to give this guy the third degree. I was glad because I was already prejudiced against him. First, he'd gotten so neatly around Angela's new no sex on the first date rule. Then, he'd asked Melanie, who he hadn't even met yet, for money. Not the kind of facts that make me impartial. I was trying to appear neutral. I wasn't sure I could do it so I certainly didn't want to be the one asking twenty questions.

Melanie started nice and easy, by asking him his full name.

"Tallalamus Burt Caldwell."

We all stared at him.

"My first name is a combination of syllables of my parent's best friends' names, Tally, Al, and Remus," Burt said. "Burt was my grandfather's name. Caldwell was my mother's maiden name. My father changed his name to Caldwell when they got married. He figured after hundreds of years of women changing their names to match the man's name someone should do it the other way for a change. I don't love my middle name but considering my alternative is Tallalamus, it's not like I have much choice."

"Do you have a job?" Melanie asked.

"I work for an accounting firm."

"Siblings?"

"I have a twin, who has the bad grace to be two inches taller and have better hair. If that wasn't bad enough, he plays the sax better than I do and his name is, argh, Robert.

"I've never been married. I don't have any children. I grew up in Hawaii as a kid. We moved to Los Angeles when I was in ninth grade. No I don't know Brad Pitt.

"I'm crazy about Angela. There's no one else like her."

That's for sure.

"Every time I see her I light up all over."

I can see that.

"What firm do you work for?" Shayla asked.

"Anderson and Wentworth," Burt said.

Melanie whistled.

"Longest relationship?" That was Laura.

"Four years," Burt said.

"What happened," Laura asked.

"She became a born again Christian and I didn't."

The interrogation went on. His voice was melodious and his stories entertaining. He was handsome in that weird combination of strong and muscular yet geeky and intellectual at the same time. I could see why Angela liked him.

Angela waved her hand around and I caught sight of her ring. I was amazed I hadn't noticed it before now.

"Cripses!" Holy shit is more like it. "Wow."

"Wow is right," Melanie said.

"Double that," Laura said.

"It's a dinner ring," Angela said in a fake haughty English accent.

"What's a dinner ring?" Laura asked.

"It was what, in the Victorian era, gentlemen sometimes gave to their betrothed if they were paired up but wouldn't be engaged for a long time," Angela said.

"Sort of a pre-engagement engagement ring," Laura said.

"Exactly," Angela said.

"It's my great-aunt's. Was my great aunt's," Burt said.

"She gave it to us as a pre-wedding present," Angela said. "Isn't it sublime?"

I had to admit that it was. It was obviously turn of the century. It had ten thin gold bands that looked like waves wrapping around fourteen small diamonds.

"It's like a sparkling ocean," Laura said.

That's exactly what I was thinking.

"It's beautiful. It really is," I said. "Congratulations." I looked at Burt. "I think a family heirloom is a wonderful, classy, thing to give a lady. This piece obviously has a lot of meaning to you and your family. I can't think of a more worth-while person to give it to."

Angela sniffed.

I slapped her gently on the shoulder. "Now stop that. It's true. You're certainly worth diamonds, and gold, and accolades, and love."

"And rubies, and money, and fame," Melanie said.

"And great sex, don't forget amazing noogie," Laurie said.

"Right," Shayla said. "We never forget that, not for a minute."

"Cheers!" I said. But we only had waters on the table.

"Garcon," Shayla said. "Champaign! We're celebrating!"

"Damn straight we are," Laura said.

Well, I thought. Burt solved his ring problem. He came through nicely with that one didn't he? In fact, he came through with flying colors.

Chapter 8

Adrianna: Regarding Laura

My phone gave the high beep. Text. From Shayla. Crap.

Call me.

Double crap.

The phone rang. I looked at the ID. It was Shayla.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey yourself, Girlfriend. Guess what?"

I sighed.

"Please, let it be news about you," I said. "I don't need gossip."

"No," she said "It's not about me. "It's about Laura. And Tracy."

"Okay. Tell."

"Well, Tracy called me and told me that Peter called her and offered to pay her full price for her engagement ring, and she took it."

"Hhhm."

"And he apologized for asking for it back in the first place. Said he was wrong to have ever asked. Said he was impulsive and he was really sorry."

"Hhhmn."

"And he gave Tracy her wedding ring back and told her that she could do whatever she wanted with it, sell it, keep it, whatever."

"Oh," I said.

"Yeah, oh."

"Well, that's something at least. The numbskull."

"Right, but now listen to this. Then Laura called me and said that Peter asked her for her engagement ring back."

"What?"

"Wait, listen, it gets better. So Peter goes to a jeweler and has a piece custom-made that fits on to the ring in silver that looks like an 'L'. Subtle but classy. The lines of the 'L' hook over and under and around. So now the ring is the same, but different. Then he gives the ring back to Laura and proposes again. He says, 'I wanted a ring that was as special and different and unique as you are. One that you knew was meant especially for you and you alone. Beautiful and custom and something that really says you.' "

"Hhm," I said.

"It's something that's meant to hook on the engagement ring permanently, but she could also wear by itself if she wanted."

I thought about it.

"So, he fixed the problem with Tracy. He gave Laura her own separate engagement ring, and maintained the first ring he gave her and made it even more special."

"Yup."

"Well, dang."

"Um-hum."

"You seen the piece yet?"

"Laura sent me a pic over her phone."

"How does it look?" I asked.

"Amazing," Shayla said.

"Wow," I said.

"Yeah, wow."

"Well, dang."

"Yeah, dang."

"So, he made an impulsive mistake in the throws of lust but he cleaned it up with love," I said. "And before it was gold and copper and now it's gold and copper and silver and it looks good, so he even had some taste."

"Looks like."

"I'm trying to see a flaw in this plan to see if he's still a jerk," I said.

We were both silent for a minute.

"I don't see one," I said.

"Me either," Shayla said.

"Well, there might be hope for them after all," I said.

"That's what I'm tellin' you," Shayla said.

Chapter 9

Me, Regarding Me: Adrianna

"We decided to pretend the canal was the Sienne and we were actually having a trip on the French Riviera," Angela said as she and Burt walked towards our table at ML. "Isn't it wonderful to be in love in France in March, Mon chéri?"

Shayla made a gagging sound.

"Just you wait, Shay," Angela said. "I heard through the corporate grapevine that they might send Jennifer back down here for a few months."

Shayla sat up straighter.

"She probably doesn't even know yet herself, or maybe she just wanted to surprise you. I'd wager she'll be down here by the end of next week."

"Whoo-hoo!" Shayla pumped a fist in the air.

"Down, Girl," Melanie said.

"Who's Jennifer?" Laura asked.

Shayla's eyes glassed over in happy bliss.

"Oh, I see," Laura said.

"Jennifer's a big honcho in the parent company that owns the radio stations I work for," Angela said. "She came down here for nine months last year and made Shayla the happiest 90% lesbian -10% bisexual woman on earth."

Shayla smiled.

Peter walked in then. "What did I miss?" He said. He stole a chair from another table and scooted in close to Laura and put an arm around her.

Shayla updated him.

"So," Peter said. "My completely amazing love and I, and Angela and Burt are in pre-wedded bliss. Melanie has Claude in New York, who, jet setters that they are can see each other any time. Now Shayla has the sexy and super competent Jennifer back."

Peter looked at me. "That leaves you."

"I'm fine the way I am, thank you," I said. "I take my pleasure vicariously from y'all. Watching you is more than enough love for me."

"Everyone needs someone to love," Peter said.

"And I have y'all," I said.

Melanie pointed a finger at me. Then Angela pointed a finger at me. Then Laura pointed a finger at me. For one scary second, I felt like I was being stared down by the Witches of Eastwick.

Shayla giggled and covered her mouth.

"Your time will come," Melanie said in a deep voice filled with the Voodoo sound of her grandmother.

"Just peachy," I said.

"Garcon," Shayla said. "Get me a vodka martini."

"Me too," I said. "Make mine a double."

Chapter 10

Regarding the Mystery

Despite extreme protests from Angela, I decided to pass on the drink and call it an early night. Having a powerful blonde, redhead, and an African American model point their fingers at you with ominous warning is enough to send even the bravest of the brave scurrying for cover.

I made it almost as far as the door to the bar. Walking in was a very tall guy, who looked a lot like the actor Sam Elliot when he was younger. He was crackling with a sexual energy and my breath caught.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," I said back in the same friendly hello tone. I looked down and kept walking. I stepped around him and walked outside.

"Hey!" He called after me and followed me outside. "You! Pipes!"

I thought I heard a soft "Ut-oh" coming from Angela from our table but with all the bar noise I couldn't be sure.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Have we met?"

"Hey," he said. The word saying clear as day, 'That is not funny.'

"Hey, hey, hey," I sang. "Hey, hey, hey." I sang to a popular tune. "We keep this up we'll be great conversationalists."

He looked at me like I was a total asshole.

"I'm sorry. Are you a fan? I usually make a concerted effort to remember every fan I meet but if it was from a bigger concert maybe if you tell me what city it was in I'll remember." Although I really think I'd remember someone like you.

"If you were going to be like this why'd you invite me out here?" He said.

"Huh?"

It must have been my expression of utter confusion that got him. I think it dawned on us both at the same time. My expression of extreme pissed-offed-ness must have been really amusing because he burst out laughing.

"Would you like to go inside?" He said. He made a gallant sweeping motion toward the door of ML.

"I don't think so," I bit out through clenched teeth. "I'm likely to kill someone. A very particular someone."

"Well, maybe you should wait a minute before you lower the guillotine."

I was still grimacing and it occurred to me that it couldn't look pretty. I was also grinding my jaw. "Do you mind telling me what's going on?"

"Look at this." He took two pieces of paper out of his pocket. The first one was my profile for Match.com. My profile. The one that I didn't write. I growled. I actually growled. It was a low, guttural sound. One that started very low in my body and turned over, like a badly tuned muscle car, in my throat. I could tell I was baring teeth. If I were an animal with fangs they would have been out.

"Down girl."

That actually made me growl louder.

The picture she posted was one from a professional shoot we did for one of my album covers. One that we deemed too sexy to use. My face was getting red. Not because I was embarrassed. Because I was mad. "I'm going to strangle her." She will have no voice. She will not be able to talk for weeks.

I looked up at this guy. "If you laugh, I will not be happy."

He stayed silent. At least he was smart.

I read through the profile quickly. I had to admit, it did sound like me. Witty, quirky, friendly, self-centered, obnoxious, caring, cute, sweet, open. The facts were completely accurate. Then I remembered. I slapped my forehead in the classic 'I should have had a V-8 motion.' Ten years ago, when Angela and I were both a little tipsy we'd discussed what we'd put on an internet profile if we were ever going to put one up. Damn.

"Why did you bring this?"

"It was so close to mine I thought it was weird. Maybe impossible. I was wondering if you read mine and then maybe changed yours to fit."