The morning the story was due to hit the stands, she drove to the M & S and grabbed the most recent issue of The Weekly News of the Universe from the magazine rack. She flipped it open to the center spread. Once again, her article was the featured story. This was the first article featuring Dennis, and it showed him as a muscle-neck cross-dresser with a gold star pinned to his marabou teddy. While that should have made her feel vindicated, it didn’t.
She chatted with Stanley as she paid for her paper, then left. Walking to her car, she thumbed to the gossip section. Her gaze skimmed the columns, but there was no mention of Juliette and Adam. It would appear, though. Probably in next week’s edition.
Hope folded the paper and took her car keys from the pocket of her jeans. Her stories were doing better than she’d ever imagined, yet she felt nothing. Not happy. Not sad. Just blah. There was more to life than successful alien articles. Like living. Like opening yourself up and falling in love and getting your heart stomped on by a size-twelve cowboy boot.
She thought she heard someone yell her name, and she glanced up from the keys in her hand to the far end of the parking lot. A big cardboard sign caught her attention. It said: Make Micky a Stud Muffin. She couldn’t see who held the sign, just a pair of little sneakers peeking out from beneath the cardboard. That was all she needed. She knew, and it shoved her heart into her throat.
Myron had found her.
She jumped into her car and peeled out of the parking lot, startling a family riding bicycles. As she drove down Main, her hands shook and her heart pounded in her ears.
She didn’t know if her restraining order was in effect in Idaho, or if Myron was free to harass her here. She really didn’t know what to do until she pulled into a space behind the sheriff’s office. She needed answers and she needed help, but she really didn’t want to involve Dylan. Maybe she could just talk to one of the deputies. She was sure someone besides Dylan could tell her what she wanted to know.
She looked for the sheriff’s Blazer and spotted it by the back door. He was in his office. Her pounding heart skipped a few painful beats. She didn’t want to involve him in her problem. The last time she’d seen him, he’d told her to stay out of his life. He’d meant it. And as much as that hurt, and as much as she thought of him every minute of every hour of every day, she meant to get over it. To get over him, but she couldn’t if she had to see and talk to him. Then she remembered his guard dog of a secretary and relaxed. Even if she wanted to see him, she didn’t believe Hazel would let her past. Not even if her hair was on fire and Dylan held the only extinguisher.
Hope took a deep breath and glanced in her rearview mirror. She reapplied her red lipstick and wished she’d worn something nicer than her white cotton shirt that buttoned up the front, jeans, and black leather belt. Not that what she wore wasn’t nice. It just wasn’t going to make anyone kick himself in the ass for dumping her.
Chapter Fifteen
PROOF: HEAD BANGING CAUSES BRAIN DAMAGE
Hope approached the information desk and waited for the female deputy to look up. “I need some information on a restraining order,” she began.
“Is this an emergency?”
“I think so.”
“Have you been assaulted?”
“Not yet.”
The officer picked up the telephone receiver and punched a button. “Hazel, I have a woman out here who needs to obtain a TRO.”
“No.” Hope shook her head, stopping the deputy before she made the mistake of involving Dylan and his secretary. “I already have a restraining order. When I lived in California, I had to take Myron Lambardo to court. I won, but I just saw him at the M and S Market.”
“Just a minute, Hazel.” The woman pressed the hold button. “And you’re positive it was him?”
“Yes. You can’t miss Myron. He looks a little like Patrick Swayze, only shorter.”
“How short?”
“He’s a dwarf.”
The officer blinked twice, then lifted her finger. “Hazel,” she began again, “the woman here says she’s being stalked by a dwarf from California. She wants to know about a restraining order.”
Hope groaned. “Oh, my God.”
“Just a sec. I’ll ask her.” The deputy looked Hope up and down. “Are you the woman with the peacock boots?”
“Yes.”
“Yep.” The woman pointed to the double glass doors that led to Dylan’s office. “Go right in there and Hazel will help you.”
Hope looked at the big gold star painted on the doors, and her dread of seeing Dylan replaced any lingering fear of Myron. “I just want some information. Can’t you help me?”
The deputy shook her head. “If a stalker has followed you here from California, the sheriff needs to be informed.”
Hope figured she had two choices. She could be an adult and brave it out, or she could run and hide like a coward. She stood frozen for several indecisive moments. Maybe it wasn’t Myron. Maybe it was some other dwarf who wanted her to make Micky the Magical Leprechaun a stud muffin. If she left, she could always return on a day when Dylan was out of the office. Maybe if she just ignored Myron, he’d get tired and go away. Problem was, she’d tried that and it hadn’t worked.