Tweaking Mr. Right

TMR: Chapter 5

Five

Cora sat down at her desk for the first time that day, and scanned through her mail. Her hands froze as the familiar blue envelope appeared behind a baby shower invitation for her receptionist, Sarah.

Another anonymous "love letter."

This is the sixth one in the past month, and Cora began to get nervous about them. The first and second ones had been charming accounts of all her "loveliness and beauty." The third letter explained in detail all the things her mysterious admirer wanted to do to her. The fourth went even further than that, and the fifth one ended up in the trash can without being read. Which is exactly where this one is going, she said to herself.

Then there were the phone calls. The calls at her office, her cell phone - she changed that number last week, and at home. Cassie usually picked up the home calls, and amazingly, the phone still worked after all her ferocious slamming of the receiver. "Damn kids," her sister growled last night just before they went upstairs to bed. No one ever spoke during the calls, and dialing the call back code sent her to a blocked number.

She should mention it to someone, but Cora was very aware of her reputation with men. Everyone would just laugh at her if she told them that some guy was stalking her. She would get that "I told you so" bit, and to forgo the embarrassment, Cora endured he prank calls and nasty letters. Maybe, she should tell Cassie at least. Cassie would understand. Right?

Or Jonathan...hmm, maybe not Jonathan. He'd run for sure, if he knew some crazed lunatic was stalking her. No guy wanted that kind of pressure, and their date last night had been so wonderful. This morning, Cora spent an hour in a trial date hearing on the Brentwood custody case, and then a follow up meeting with her client, the former Mrs. Brentwood. She barely remembered any of it. She tossed the blue envelope and floated along in her after-date bubble for the rest of the day.

It was a perfect first date. No weird, disturbing-lunatic behavior, and no need to pull out the can of Mace she always carried with her. He held her hand while they talked. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face when she laughed at one of his jokes. He kissed her over an empty bowl of Mud Pie. And he kissed her outside the restaurant on the way to his car. And in the car. And on her front porch. She asked if he wanted to come in for some coffee or something, but he only kissed her again and murmured, "Next time."

Perfect.

Cora had kissed a lot of frogs in her time. Every six months or more - sometimes less - another would hop her way, and they had all been nothing but toads. She was thirty years old and hoped to be married by now, though it wasn't from lack of trying. There had been a few potentials, but her sister's finickiness in men rubbed off on her somewhere along the way.

Cassie had this strange outlook on men. If a man was nice to her, she would call him a pleaser; if he was mean, he had a problem with commitment. A man could be tall, dark and devilishly handsome. Cassie would think of him as untrustworthy. He could be butt-ugly and she would still say he probably had a problem with authority and was abusive. If the perfect man walked up to Cassie and asked her to spend eternity with him, she would say some off-the-wall quote about eternity and inquire about his definition of the term and whether he could be less than perfect on occasion just so she could bitch at him.

Cassie should have been the lawyer. That is all there is to it. She has no faith in people, the least likeable, but most prevalent, characteristic in an attorney. Cora had too much faith. She wanted to believe in people. And that was the main reason she wanted out of family law. It was too heartbreaking to see bad things happen to good people, especially when children were involved.