The Other C-Word(6)

By: MK Schiller



“That’s what I said, wasn’t it? That man told me he was you. He was senile like his daughter said.”

“Oh, I don’t think he was that senile, Marley…or should I call you Ms Mason?”

I smiled curtly. I wanted to say Ms Mason because I was mad, but it would look stupid since we worked for such a casual company. “You can call me Marley.”

“Please call me Rick,” he replied congenially. “So, I take it you don’t know the definition of ‘randy’.”

We reached my car, and I opened the trunk for him. He assessed my mode of transportation, and I knew what he was thinking—small car, tall man, uncomfortable ride. Oh well, served him right. He was the cheapskate that couldn’t get a rental car. He placed his bags in the trunk.

“What are you talking about?” I didn’t attempt to hide the irritation in my voice. I wished Kathy were here with her SUV. It would have been better for everyone.

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his cell phone. I wondered if he was text messaging someone. It seemed rude, so I tapped my heel impatiently.

“Here you go.” He handed me the phone.

He’d done an Internet search for ‘randy’. The first item was a definition.



‘Randy—sexually excited or aroused, lustful, horny.’



I almost dropped his phone. Was he propositioning me? I shook my head at him, still confused.

Rick smiled impishly. It was a cute smile, almost boyish, especially with the appearance of the small dimple on his right cheek. He snatched the email I was still clutching out of my hand, and held it up to my face.

“Sweetheart, think about it. You were in an airport, holding up a sign in pink lipstick that read, ‘RU RANDY’. Granted, you have no question mark, but the interpretation is plain.”

I gaped in shock, while Rick chortled again. “Oh my God, that old guy…thought I was propositioning him?”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure he was a little senile. Don’t feel bad, it’s not a commonly used term anymore. It’s antiquated, kind of like the guy you just tried to pick up.”

I tightened my smile and replied coolly, “Don’t call me sweetheart.”

I walked over to the driver’s side, but he beat me to it. “This is my car. I’m driving.”

“I was just getting your door for you, Marley.” He let go of the door handle, holding his hands up in resignation.

I shook my head thinking of a response, but he caught me off guard by speaking first, “I don’t know if I should get into the car with you. You’re not going to kidnap me, are you?” He was mocking me, cocking one of his eyebrows, goading me with his sarcastic wit.

“Oh! Just get in the car already!” I grumbled.

He laughed again, but complied. Seriously, was it that funny? I didn’t think so. I started heading out towards the expressway.

“You were very late. I mean, you had that whole misunderstanding, but I noticed you the second you walked into the airport, and you were late even then. I was worried.”

I stiffened. We had those few minutes in the airport, staring at each other. He was nice to look at, but in reality, it wasn’t a great sign. It was a matter of time before I lost my job, but this guy could probably get me fired today if he wanted.

“I got lost,” I lied. I really didn’t want to tell him about my sister’s insistence that I looked like a slob or the car wash fiasco. That would just make me sound even more unintelligent. Although getting lost on the way to the airport in a city you’ve occupied your whole life probably wasn’t much better.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why couldn’t Kathy come?”

“She’s sick so I had to do it.”

“My lucky day.”

I didn’t know if he meant he was lucky because I gave him a good laugh or because of my company. Before I contemplated a response, my cell phone rang. I glanced at the dashboard where it sat.

“Are you going to answer it?”

“No, I’m driving and it’s just my mom,” I replied.

“Don’t you have hands free?”

I did have hands free, but then it would mean she’d be on speakerphone and that would be bad.

“I’ll call her later.” I felt slightly annoyed by his interest.

“It could be an emergency, Marley.”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, trying to hide my frustration. “It’s not an emergency.”

Rick was quiet for a moment and the phone ceased its ringing, thank goodness. “That’s the thing about an emergency—you never know when it’s going to happen,” he said solemnly, all traces of humour leaving his voice. It surprised me.

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