Where Would I Be Without You - By CJ Hawk Page 0,47

move. I was in the midst of morning rush hour on a major side street, and some not too happy co-drivers were honking at me. As I got out of my car, put my hood up as a signal that my car was down, a woman in her fifties pulled over and parked in a metered parking spot, right next to where I was stalled. In her navy work dress and three-inch heels, she offered to steer my car off the main street to a parking spot empty ahead of me while I pushed. I thanked her profusely as we worked together to get my car moved out of the way. She jumped back in her car after wishing me a better day, and I waved her on with a smile as I watched her merge back into traffic an inch at a time.

It could have been worse. I could have been on the highway or further from my apartment. I texted Wally Woo that I needed a vacation day because my car died on the way to work. Then I sent a second text to make it seem as if I was being productive: 'I am going to work on my college courses'. He sent me an 'ok' back.

I grabbed my purse; tossed in enough coins in the meter for two hours, and hoped like heck my plan to get my dad to come have my car towed would work. I locked up my dead car, not that anyone would steal it; it wasn't worth stealing, or that this was a bad end of town, all the same, there had been bums known to take a nap in unlocked cars around here. I trudge the block and half away from my apartment to the bakery. Not a healthy sign that I was visiting here again this week, Marion's cupcake trip was just yesterday. However, I was in dire need of a blueberry muffin and large hot coffee, flavored with lots of creamer to help me walk back to my apartment. By the time I made it home, both were gone, and I figured I would call my dad and let him handle the dead car situation for me. If there was one thing that made him happy, it was to come to my rescue. I never let him deal with my man drama, but my dead car or late bill drama; he was first on my list.

I closed my apartment door, just as I hung up with my dad on my cell phone. I set my purse on my table next to the door and stood there shocked and dismayed by what I saw.

There, in Mason's apartment, across the alleyway from me and in plain sight, was a naked, except for a towel, Mason. His back was to me. However, that didn't shock me. What did, was the naked blonde bimbo with big boobs, naked - did I mention that, standing in front of him, with her naked boobs facing towards my apartment. I watched her move in on my man, arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands come up. I could not watch anymore. He must have thought I was at work and it was safe to play with woman number two. I turned and stormed into my room, tossing pillows at my door and practically growling with a scream.

When I finally lost steam from picking up and throwing my twenty or so decorative pillows about ten times, I grabbed an extra dark-blue bed sheet out of my closet. I went to the kitchen and found my silver duct tape. I walked right over to my window with the bench seat that faced his place, tossed the cushion he got me onto the floor, and I put that sheet up over the window. I did look though. There was no naked Mason, or naked big boob woman standing there. I didn't care. What I did care about was the fact that I was officially over playboy Mason Montahue, I'm not good enough for you.

Chapter Eleven

"Sitting around eating all the blue peanut M&M's out of that two pounder bag of M&Ms you got there is not going to solve any of your problems." My aunt Heather, recently back from the Bahamas, tanned and heavy blonde streaks that have taken over her brown hair, took the bag of M&Ms out of my hand and walked over to the trash can, hit her foot on the pedal that raised the