Back to the party, I arrive with my sisters, and as usual we try to out dress each other. My two younger sisters, Jeannie and Delores, have bought into the tanning scene, and looked like cannolis left to fry too long. Thank goodness I have one sister, Lucinda who maintained a bit of sanity and decided not to look like shoe leather. I’m my usual stylesta, looking fab in my blue little number, hair pulled back into a stylish Kim K. smooth ponytail, (no big hair for this Italian. Right now I’m supporting the flat iron industry), with Big-O hoochy hoops hanging from my ears. Okay, the club is crowded, and I have to use the restroom, of course there’s a line. When do ladies rooms don’t have lines? I can’t wait, no line for the guys. The first sister I find, unfortunately is over baked Delores. I bribe her, with a promise of a Cosmo, to guard the front door of the men’s room, while I rush in and rush out. At least that was the plan. Well, Delores got distracted by some Guido, and leaves. No pinky drinky for you sister.
A couple guys come in, which forces me, as I was just getting ready to walk out of the stall, to take evasive action, by way of doing a balancing act on the toilet in my ever so cute little strappy stilettos.
It seemed like an eternity, before they left. It took so long, I did something daring, I slipped off my shoes, very carefully one at a time, and put them between my teeth, by the straps, to avoid a fall in the toilet. I can wash my feet. The shoes would be a loss. With arms stretched to the limit holding me over the toilet, I wait. I wait to either fall in the toilet, or for Delores to finally remember me and rescue me. I had little hope for the later.
A couple guys come in, which forces me, as I was just getting ready to walk out of the stall, to take evasive action, by way of doing a balancing act on the toilet in my ever so cute little strappy stilettos.
It seemed like an eternity, before they left. It took so long, I did something daring, I slipped off my shoes, very carefully one at a time, and put them between my teeth, by the straps, to avoid a fall in the toilet. I can wash my feet. The shoes would be a loss. With arms stretched to the limit holding me over the toilet, I wait. I wait to either fall in the toilet, or for Delores to finally remember me and rescue me. I had little hope for the later.
Did you know guys gossip while standing at the urinal? I thought it was all quiet on the western front, while they did their thing. Oh, per l'amore di Pete! I prodigi non fermeranno mai?
Finally, finally, thank the saints, Delores discovers her slip, and sends someone to rescue me. After the guys leave, I hear a little knock on the stall door, and a deep voice say, “Cari are you in there?” I think my heart stopped, because I recognized the voice.
The door so very carefully slowly swung open, and who should be standing there, but-but-I still can't believe it, but Fireman Frank from the gym. Yes, I said it. Fireman Frank with his adorable croaked grin, smiled at me as I have my dress hiked up to my hips, holding my shoes between my teeth, balancing over the toilet. He grinned, and I just stared with wide-eyed wonder at this hunk of the month, or a lifetime, Fireman Frank...OMG!! I know I turned bright red. Not pink, but red. What does he do, besides laugh until he cries, but gives me his hand and helps me off the toilet.
I spent the rest of the night trying to enjoy myself as I danced with a few Guidos, who only really knew how to do the ‘air pump dance’ with a fist. Fireman Frank danced a little with me, and smiled, than he had to leave. He had to work the next day. Be still my beating heart. I wonder if I can avoid him at the gym. This is just another incident to add to a long list that involves this absolute Adonis.
As I was leaving, the heel of my cute little strappy stiletto, I fought to keep from certain doom in the toilet, caught in a crack and completely snapped off, as I climbed into a cab to take us back to the hotel, where we were going to end the evening with my brother’s fiancé and her annoying best-friend. I downloaded this book as I lay on the bed, next to a very drunk Delores, who hummed about some Guido named Lorenzo, as the best-friend prayed to porcelain god in the bathroom, between ‘ralphs’ and asking to die.
The door so very carefully slowly swung open, and who should be standing there, but-but-I still can't believe it, but Fireman Frank from the gym. Yes, I said it. Fireman Frank with his adorable croaked grin, smiled at me as I have my dress hiked up to my hips, holding my shoes between my teeth, balancing over the toilet. He grinned, and I just stared with wide-eyed wonder at this hunk of the month, or a lifetime, Fireman Frank...OMG!! I know I turned bright red. Not pink, but red. What does he do, besides laugh until he cries, but gives me his hand and helps me off the toilet.
I spent the rest of the night trying to enjoy myself as I danced with a few Guidos, who only really knew how to do the ‘air pump dance’ with a fist. Fireman Frank danced a little with me, and smiled, than he had to leave. He had to work the next day. Be still my beating heart. I wonder if I can avoid him at the gym. This is just another incident to add to a long list that involves this absolute Adonis.
As I was leaving, the heel of my cute little strappy stiletto, I fought to keep from certain doom in the toilet, caught in a crack and completely snapped off, as I climbed into a cab to take us back to the hotel, where we were going to end the evening with my brother’s fiancé and her annoying best-friend. I downloaded this book as I lay on the bed, next to a very drunk Delores, who hummed about some Guido named Lorenzo, as the best-friend prayed to porcelain god in the bathroom, between ‘ralphs’ and asking to die.
The whole night was nothing but trouble, and to think, for the wedding I have to wear a sunflower yellow, which makes me look like carp. La cassaforte di signore me da questa merda!
But I digress. First the cover of the book is very deceiving. The hero, Mark was a hockey player, until his career was ended by a car accident. No sign of that on the cover. The heroine is Chelsea an out dated scream queen movie star, again no signs on the cover. Who designs these things? Isn’t reading the book required by the artist?
Chelsea is hired as a personal assistant to Mark, the hockey puck. He didn’t need an assistant. He needed a hockey stick right-up-side the head. Right out of the gate I don’t like Mark. He’s a major jack ass, who can’t keep anyone in his employ. Chelsea needs money so she takes the job. I normally don’t like desperate women. I’d work at my cousin’s deli before I’d work for this idiot, and my cousin can be a big fat jerk, most of the time. Accept to Nona, who can still kick his ass.
I actually found myself liking Chelsea, most of the time. She could handle Mark okay, by largely ignoring him, much like I ignore my cousin, and his food. What I had in common with Chelsea was family, and how they try ever so hard to make you do what they want, ignoring what is important to you. Chelsea knew what she wanted, and it started out not to be Mark. But as these things happen, they fall in love and into bed, a bit too fast for my taste. It didn’t make me like Mark any better. Actually, his reasoning was a bit pathetic. But you’d have to read the book to find that out. I don’t like to give away the ending. There is a cast of characters that I think will eventually end up with their own book. I just hope those other hockey pucks are more likeable.
I give this book a #5. As much as I don’t like the hero, I found it hard to put down. I’d read another one this authors books.
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