The Other C-Word (In Other Words #1) - MK Schiller Page 0,2

I stared into the mirror, allowing myself a brief moment of admiration. I was no siren, but the pouty lips and long eyelashes inherited from my mother provided a subtle sexiness. I would call Stevie classically beautiful, whereas I was cute in that tomboy kind of way. Growing up, some boys had said I was prettier than Stevie—I guess in the same way guys prefer Jennifer Aniston to Angelina Jolie…not Brad Pitt mind you, but some guys. We never fought about it, though. It was never a competition, especially since I wasn’t very interested in charming the opposite sex.

“I don’t know about this, Stevie. I think I’m overdoing it. I don’t want this guy to think the company sent an escort to pick him up.”

She rolled her eyes. “You look totally professional, not slutty. Seriously, Marley, professional doesn’t mean matronly. You’re a pretty girl. Don’t be afraid to show off what your mama gave you.”

I laughed. “Yeah, looks like you got more from mama than I did.” I glanced towards the clock and gasped. I had to go. I snatched the email from the printer, hugged Stevie and thanked her for her tutelage before bounding down the stairs. My mother, thankfully, had coffee waiting for me.

“Can’t talk, Mom, got to go. I have to pick up this cheapskate consultant at the airport,” I said hastily, grabbing the travel mug she handed me.

“How do you know he’s a cheapskate, sweetie?”

I shrugged my shoulders, smiling at my lovable mother. “What else would he be when he can’t even spring for a rental car?”

“Okay, sweetheart, let me know what you think of the sweetener I put in your coffee. It’s chocolate almond milk this time.”

I stifled my groan. My mom had become a vegan a few months ago and had managed to force the lifestyle on us. We all loved her so much that we suffered silently while she found herself through food.

“Marley!” Stevie yelled, standing at the top of the stairs.

I turned to her, letting out an exasperated grunt. “What now?”

“Don’t forget to clean your car. If he’s riding in it, you want to make sure it’s presentable.”

Damn! Why didn’t I think of that? My car was a complete sty. I jumped into my little Honda, cursing myself as I drove with a lead foot to the nearest car wash. After my car was thoroughly bathed, I pulled over and started vacuuming the insides, ignoring the catcalls of the carwash boys. It wasn’t smart for a girl to be vacuuming her car in a short skirt and high heels. I noticed a speck of lint on the driver’s seat floor, which I had missed with the hose when I was on that side. I leaned all the way over from the passenger side to vacuum it up. Instead of sucking up the lint, I managed to knock over my travel mug. Almond-flavored coffee spilled everywhere.

Crap! The hot coffee rolled in rivulets down the passenger seat, drowning the email with the flight info. I ran around like a lunatic looking for towels to soak up the mess. The car wash guys took pity on me and found me some. I guess a short skirt can come in handy at the right moments. I wiped down the seat, but it was still damp.

Screw it! Let him sit in the wet spot. It served him right for ruining an otherwise mundane Monday for me. I placed the soaked email on the dashboard, hoping it would dry by the time I reached my destination. I jumped into my car then proceeded with an even heavier lead foot all the way to the airport.

Chapter 2

After three rounds, I finally found a parking spot in the intimidating parking garage. With a deep breath, I realized I had no idea what this consultant looked like. I snatched the email off the dash. It was still damp and part of the paper didn’t lift completely. I tried to piece it together, but it had torn right through his name. The smudged, ripped letters were almost illegible. I couldn’t very well go through the airport and yell out, ‘Mr. Cheapskate consultant. Your ride is here!’

I put it out of my mind, running into the airport and praying I didn’t trip or break a precious heel on Stevie’s Louboutins. By the time I got into the passenger pick up area, I was a panting, wheezing mess. Looking around the bustling airport, I tried to regain my composure. It will be obvious when