More Than Fiends Read Free

go.”
    â€œOh. Okay. How about I stop by later? Bring dinner?”
    Fabulous. Just the three of us.
    â€œI don’t think that’s a good idea—”
    â€œYou still like pizza, don’t you?”
    I rolled my eyes. Oh please. Who doesn’t like pizza? He asks as if he knows me so well.
    â€œYeah, but—”
    â€œSee you later.”
    Worry about it later, I told myself, adding it to the mental list. Seriously, if all the worries I kept putting off ganged up on me on the same day, my head was going to explode. Hmm. Add that one to the worry list, too.
    In a heartbeat I was back to the last day I’d seen him. Logan had made even those stupid graduation hats look good. His smile had been wide, his blue eyes flashing, and then he’d reached out and snaked one arm around the woman he’d traded me in for. I could still remember the sharp stab of pain that had sliced through me when he bent and kissed the bitch right in front of me. I could still remember mumbling something stupid and leaving before the tears I felt choking me could fall.
    Ah yes. Why wouldn’t I want to get together with Logan and talk about old times?
    When I hung up, Sugar and I headed for the back door, with me trying to figure out if there was time to pack up, sell the house and move before dinner. Probably not. Guess I’d have to settle for turning off the power and telling Thea the electricity was cut off. Then we’d sit in the dark and hope Logan thought the house was empty.
    I opened the back door and patted Sugar as she trembled at the sight of a stranger. Big dog, but a coward at heart. I looked down at a fat guy with LEO stenciled on his blue-and-white-striped shirt. He was standing next to my faboo new washer, and he looked up at me and gulped like he’d never seen a woman on the edge before. Then a second or two later, he carefully handed me a clipboard and muttered, “Sign this.”
    I did, handed it back to him and said, “Don’t you want to haul the old one out before you bring that one in?”
    He snorted and backed up. “Nobody told me about taking away the old machine.”
    â€œWhat? Of course you have to take it away. What am I supposed to do with it if you don’t?”
    He avoided looking at me, and I had to wonder if I’d remembered to put on makeup that morning.
    â€œNot my problem, lady.”
    I threw my arms out and braced my hands on either side of the door, blocking the entry when he tried to muscle his way past me. The man was built like a linebacker, but I was a woman on a mission. No way was I going to be stuck trying to drag that old machine out on my own.
    â€œCome on, Leo. Cut me a break here.”
    â€œLady,” he growled, still not looking at me. What? Did I have a huge zit on my forehead or something? “Outta the way or I leave this baby outside.”
    Just what I needed. Broken machine inside. New machine outside. Neither of them working.
    â€œLet me call Bob and clear this up.” Bob the dweeb, who thinks he can screw with me just because he inherited his father’s appliance store and made more money in a month than I did all year.
    â€œFine. I’ll be in the truck. Takin’ my break.”
    â€œWow, yeah. Wouldn’t want you to get all tired out, leaning on my new washing machine. Take care of yourself, Leo.”
    Thankfully, the phone was still in my hand, so I dialed the store and waited through a Muzak version of “Stairway to Heaven” for Bob to answer. While I grabbed another cookie and pushed Sugar into the kitchen and closed the door, the music kept playing in a not-too-subtle attempt to drive me insane.
    I was just wondering if it wouldn’t be faster to hop into my Volkswagen, drive downtown and bitch-slap Bob in person, when a woman appeared on the back porch. One minute, the porch is empty. Next, some old lady in an ugly dress and hideous black shoes is standing there,