Pitifully Ugly.

By Robin Alexander.

For the Rose with a golden heart.

Acknowledgments.

My thanks and my love to my partner, Becky. She's my inspiration.

My editor, Tara Young, to whom I am very thankful because she hasn't shot me yet over my poor use of the dreaded comma.

Many thanks to Kate Sweeney, my business partner who makes a mean sangria and who doesn't complain when I force her to listen to what I've written.

Prologue.

"Don't you dare, Shannon. Those online dating sites are a hotbed of people looking to cheat on their mates, or worse, monsters masquerading as princess charmings. Just do it the old- fashioned way-charm some cutie into a date and see where it goes."

Kalen, my older sister, accentuated every point by stabbing her fork in my direction. As usual, I sat silent and listened to her well-intentioned advice until she stopped long enough to take the last bite of her dinner.

"You're missing the point," I said. "I have no game, no charm."

"You have to practice." Kalen's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Practice on the waiter when he comes back."

"No."

"Why?"

"He's a man."

"I didn't say seduce him and take him home. It's simple. Just smile and maybe compliment him. Oh! Say something about his eyes." Kalen looked around for the unsuspecting guinea pig.

"Show me how it's done."

Kalen rolled her eyes. She'd demonstrated the Brycen charming skills that I was sorely lacking countless times. Our victim was approaching too quickly for her to argue. I watched as she smiled up at him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

He was putty in her hands, and she hadn't spoken a word. Flirting was second nature to Kalen, and if she were single, she'd never lack for companionship.

1.

*I've often thought it a cruel cosmic joke that I was pa.s.sed over for the charismatic gene that my parents and sister shared.

If Kalen and I didn't look so much alike, I would have gone in search of my real father, an introverted milkman who my mother had her way with.

"See how easy that was?" Kalen said triumphantly. "He's giving us a slice of pie on the house. We're going to have to leave before he asks for my number because I might just give it to him.""Better hope that my brother-in-law doesn't answer when he calls."

Kalen raised an eyebrow. "When he comes back, you give it a whirl."

I opened my mouth to balk as I've always done, but then I wondered, why not? The food wasn't that great. We probably wouldn't revisit this place. What did I have to lose? I watched as the waiter weaved between tables, coming closer with each step.

My hands tightened into fists as I tucked them under my legs.

That was the closest I was going to get to being poised.

All was going well until I heard my brain screaming out to the rest of my body. Oh, my G.o.d! She's going to speak. Who told her this was a good idea? My stomach began to growl its protest, and it kind of sounded like Scotty from Star Trek. She's breaking up, Captain. I can't hold her much longer. My brain began barking out orders, but my body was too stunned to comply. Legs, what are you waiting for? Get moving! Can we have a coughing fit, a sneeze, anything? All fell silent as a slice of pie and two cups of coffee were set on the table.

I glanced over at Kalen, who wore the expectant but fearful smile of a mother watching her baby take the first ride without training wheels. The waiter was smiling down at me, and it was show time.

"I...you...well...I like your shirt." The last part of my pathetic attempt came out sounding like a balloon being deflated. He blinked for a moment, then looked down at the black polo with the restaurant's name emblazoned on the breast pocket. With no more than an awkward smile and a nod, he left me to my misery.

2.

*I couldn't look at Kalen. She cleared her throat and went on talking as though nothing gruesomely embarra.s.sing had happened.

"You know...there's a new customer that's been coming to the Rampart store. I think she may be single."

Chapter 1.

If at first you don't succeed, don't try the same d.a.m.n thing over again.

Loyal, warm-hearted, and fun. Loves quiet evenings at home, enjoys cooking when it's for someone besides myself. My favorite kind of day is a rainy cold Sunday when I'm curled up in bed with someone watching movies and eating junk food- "Oh, my G.o.d, I'm a lap dog with culinary skills." I buried my face in my hands and screamed in frustration. I'd spent my entire Sat.u.r.day morning trying to come up with something eye- catching, and all I could manage was an ad for a dog looking for a good home. I fought the urge to cry when I realized I didn't even want to date me.

Had I always been this boring? I'd managed to attract a woman at one time...well, at least three times. This time was different, though. I was operating without a net.

Like a monkey, I'd catch the next vine when it became obvious that the relationship was coming to an end. Neither Marla nor I wanted to be the first to admit that our relationship was on its death bed. Though we weren't unfaithful to each other, we both put "feelers" out. Susan, a friend of a friend, made it clear she would be interested if I were single, and I grabbed that vine with both hands. After six years together, we did the exact same thing, and I swung into Cindy's life. We were together two years, and she caught a vine of her own without warning. At thirty-seven, I was single, and there wasn't a vine in sight.

*I took one more disgusted look at my computer screen and pushed away from my desk intent on soothing my frustration with a handful of Oreos and a gla.s.s of milk. I thought better of that plan when a draft of cold air moved up the crack of my a.s.s.

My habit of cookie consolation had resulted in the ruining of my favorite jeans that were now split from the crotch halfway up my backside. I wondered if an apple would comfort me as much as a cookie. My taste buds said no.

Feeling sorry for myself, I stood at my window and stared down at the sidewalk. "I could get one of those." I watched a cab pull to the curb and deposit a woman and her dog onto the sidewalk. The yellow ball of fluff sat patiently at its mistress's side as the cabbie was paid. I caught a glimpse of blond curly hair protruding from the knit cap atop the woman's head, but that was all I could see from my third-floor vantage point.

The knit cap with pooch in tow approached a moving van that pulled to the curb when the cab pulled away. "She must be moving into the Kellehers' old apartment." I watched as my new neighbor disappeared into the doorway. And then the Oreos began calling to me again.

I was about to heed their call when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stopped in my tracks. I'd put on at least ten pounds in the year after Cindy left. My hair was out of control.

I'd given up trying to do anything with it. It sat piled on top of my head, held precariously by a banana clip. My eyebrows rivaled Andy Rooney's.

I'd heard Kalen say a dozen times that a makeover worked miracles. Perhaps it was time I made myself over. I looked at my reflection again and decided that a diet would have to come first.

The cookies had to go, and I had just enough milk to make that happen.

I was stuffing the last of them into my mouth when the phone rang. Kalen's name showed on the caller ID. I tossed the phone back onto the table as I listened to her voice on my answering machine. "I know you're in there, Shannon. Pick up this phone because if you don't, you know I'l be there in five. I have a key-"

"What?" I said around a mouthful of cookie.

*"Be glad you picked up the phone because I have a date for you."This news was met with mixed emotion. I was intrigued, but a little gun-shy after the last fix-up. She was nice, but her cat p.i.s.sed in my shoe and bit me on the ankle. All of which he denied, and she refused to believe that Mr. Jingles was capable of such behavior.

"Are you still there?" Kalen asked.

"Yes. Who is this person you're giving me away to?"

"She's Candace's cousin. Remember? I told you about her. Her family owns a restaurant in Harahan, and by the way, that's where she's taking you for dinner tomorrow night. Wear something nice, no jeans. She'll call you later this afternoon with the details."

I decided not to tell her that jeans weren't an option anyway since my a.s.s was hanging out of my only decent pair. "Okay."

"Excellent," Kalen said. I could tell she was smiling, pleased with her accomplishment. "I'll expect you to call me Sunday morning with all the details."

My stomach twisted into knots as I dropped the phone back onto the table. The comfort cookies weren't feeling so comfortable in the pit of my stomach. What would I wear? What would she think of me? Would I be able to relax around her? Did she have a cat?

The following evening found me in the front seat of a brand new Camaro. Jackie, my date for the evening, had chivalrously opened my door. I studied her as she walked around to the driver's side. Dark hair cut stylishly short. Tall but not what I'd consider slender, which was fine with me. Being sidled up to some emaciated thing would only make me feel more miserable about my appearance. Nice smile, pretty green eyes.

"So, Shannon," she said as she put on her seat belt. "Tell me all about yourself."

I hated to hear that question. Just once, I wished I had the girl- b.a.l.l.s to say, I work for the federal government in a department that I cannot disclose, but I can tell you that I'm trained to kill *using nothing more than a toothpick. So when you say you'll cal , you d.a.m.n well better do it. "I'm kind of a homebody. I like to read and watch movies. What about you?"

Jackie liked to do a great many things, one of which was talk about herself, which she did for the thirty minutes it took us to go two miles. No sooner than we merged onto the interstate, we came to a complete stop.

"I hate traffic." Jackie gunned the engine for emphasis. "It never fails. There's always an accident or construction jamming everything up."

I wanted to commiserate but was distracted by the flush that rose up the side of her neck and the way she gripped the gearshift.

Instead, I opted for something that would take her mind off the snarl that had us inching along. "So did I understand correctly that you were in the military for a while?" Jackie shot me a sideways glance. The flush that crept up her face was beginning to spread.

"Did Candace tell you that?"

"I think she might've mentioned it to my sister," I said, wishing that I'd chosen another topic. Jackie's face had turned completely red.

"That's just like Candy. She loves to tell everyone about how I was discharged for anger management issues. I mean, you'd think that the Army would want someone willing to fight."

Jackie revved the engine as the traffic began to move again at a snail's pace. She rhythmically squeezed the steering wheel with both fists as she stared straight ahead. Awkward silence hung between us like a veil, and I pondered how long it would take me to walk back to my apartment.

"People like this p.i.s.s me off." Jackie pointed at the car sitting in front of us as the traffic in front of it moved up at least four car lengths. "She's texting her a.s.s off." Jackie blew the horn, and the distracted driver gave her the one-finger salute before moving on. "So what exactly is it that you do?" she asked as we came to a stop again.

"My sister and I own four hair salons. She's the-"

*"b.i.t.c.h! Drive!" Jackie screamed out her window, earning another salute, but the car did move along. She ran her fingers through her hair and laughed nervously. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

I'd like to go home now. "Um...I was telling you what I did for a living."

"Right." Jackie waved her hand for me to continue as she glared at the car ahead.

"Kalen handles the staff and the promotion of our salons, and I handle all the paperwork and generally the stuff she doesn't want to do. The high side is that I get to work from home." I think you're insane and I'm going to choke my sister and her buddy Candace for setting me up on this odyssey. I could've said the latter out loud because Jackie was completely focused on the happy texter in front of us.

"Be right back," she said as she shifted the car into neutral and put on the parking brake.

"Where are you-" She was out of the car before I could finish. I watched in shock as she walked up to the car in front of us, reached into the driver's window, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the woman's cell phone from her hand. Jackie wound up like she was pitching for the pros and tossed the phone into the brush along the interstate.

"Fetch, b.i.t.c.h!" she yelled over her shoulder as she marched back to her car with a twisted smile.

I know I must have looked like I had lockjaw because I couldn't close my mouth as she got back into the car and sped off down the shoulder. The owner of the cell phone looked exactly like I did as we flew past. I dared not speak until she pulled off at the next exit.

"Would you take me home, please?" I managed calmly when we stopped at a light.

"Are you serious?" She looked offended that I'd made such a request.

"Never mind, I'll walk." I was out of the car and halfway into a convenience store parking lot when Jackie squealed her tires in protest.

*I could've called a cab, but I wanted Kalen to share in my misery. After all, she was the cause. She tried to keep a serious expression as I got into her car, but I could see the grin just waiting to be turned loose. "She threw the woman's cell phone?"

"In a week or year, this will be funny as s.h.i.t, but right now, Kalen, I want to choke you."

"I'm sorry." Kalen pretended to be looking in her side mirror, but I knew she was on the verge of tears...of laughter. She cleared her throat and shot me a quick glance. "You look really nice tonight. How about we not waste a great hair day and go have a few drinks?"

"Not interested. Take me home or I'll jump out of your car, too."A tiny tear formed at the corner of Kalen's right eye. In a matter of minutes, she would have no control of her emotions.