“Ugh! Fuck this bullshit. I need a break.” She stretched in her seat before she stood up and stretched.
Mark jumped up from his stool and his eyes showed a hint of terror as he whined, “You’re leaving me?”
Mary Allison groaned. “No, but can I go tinkle?”
A wave of relief seemed to flow over the pint-sized man. Mary Allison could see his stiff body loosen up and relax, starting with his face and progressing downward toward his feet.
“Bathroom is down that hallway, first door on the left.” He pointed before sitting back down.
Mary Allison bolted to find relief but when she entered Mark’s bathroom, she gagged, feeling as if she was standing in the middle of a giant Petri dish labeled Live Staph Infection. Along with several dirty handprints, the sink and mirror were both splattered with toothpaste leavings. A tan bath mat, sprinkled with debris, sported a suspicious-looking brown mark. The smell was foul enough for Mary Allison to pull the neck of her shirt over her nose and mouth and look around for a litter box but there was no evidence of a cat or any animal other than Mark. If she hadn’t had to go so badly, she would have insisted Holden drive her to someplace cleaner. Mary Allison shook her head. Even pissing in my pants would be more sanitary.
Holding her breath, she flushed the toilet before opening the lid. No way did she want to risk finding any surprises. Mary Allison hovered over the commode as if she was using the restroom at a seedy, just-off-the-interstate gas station. After she was done, the sight of the dirty, germ-laden sink made her reluctant to wash her hands. Instead, she opened a cabinet underneath and was surprised but happy to find a can of disinfectant spray.
Once she banished any minions of disease straight to hell, she decided it was safe to clean her hands. Finally, she made her way back into the living room. She stared at Mark. “You are the worst kind of person.”
“Huh?” he asked. Both men looked up at her.
She scrunched up her nose. “Your bathroom is the ultimate in filth.” After glancing over at Holden and noticing his worried expression, she realized she had said too much, but before she could take it back, Mark Melton burst into tears, bolted into his bedroom, and slammed the door.
“Bullocks.” Holden groaned and sighed.
Mary Allison wasn’t sure what the hell Mark’s problem was. “Shit! I’m sorry.”
Her editor shook his head. “You only said what I’ve been dying to say. I just wish you’d held your tongue until we finished up here. I’ll go coax him out. You order some pizza.”
Mary Allison’s bottom lip rolled over as she recoiled. “I’m starving but I’m not eating a damn thing in this rat hole.”
Holden looked at her with glazed-over eyes before nodding and heading off after Mark. While she waited for Holden to deal with the loon, she opened her iPad, sent out a few Snapchat streaks, and then checked her Facebook page. She had a private message from Donnie, her best friend of many years. She cherished the lifelong bond she’d forged with the utterly adorable, completely gay, former jock. When she was five, the two had become best friends on the playground at the neighborhood park over a shared Hershey’s chocolate bar. From that day forward, their hands and hearts were always intertwined.
Before she could respond to her message, Mark and Holden returned. Mary Allison felt bad about upsetting the little guy so she apologized.
“No, you’re right. I get all out of sorts and emotional when I’m behind. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.” He dabbed at his eyes with a tissue.
Holden removed his money clip from his pocket and removed a couple of twenties. “Mary Allison, will you please go get some takeout?” Stepping in closer, he whispered, “You can eat at the restaurant before you return.”
“Wait!” Mark squealed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Retrieving some cash, he held it out to Mary Allison. “Let me pay. It’s the least I can do.”
Deciding he was damn right, Mary Allison took his money and handed Holden’s back to him before asking for his keys and taking both men’s food orders. After Holden walked her out to the hallway, she grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close, stroking her hair. “Thank you.”
She smiled. “Why aren’t you afraid of getting ptomaine poison?”
“Sadly, I’m immune to the filth. I’ve been looking after Mark for a bit of a stretch.” He laughed while wagging his head.
He stroked her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss. As his soft, warm lips pressed against hers, her pulse quickened, and giddy energy filled her belly before she sauntered off to the building’s front door.
Chapter Three
After facilitating a little breathing room for Mary Allison, Holden helped Mark settle at his workstation and then headed off to the kitchen to make some coffee. Since the place was such a cesspool, Holden had to wash the coffee pot and a couple of mugs. His gaze darted around the room, and he exhaled a heavy breath. Mark’s place was always a mess when he was behind on his deadlines but he only let it turn into a pigsty when his writer’s block was severe enough to cause depression. When those dark times struck, Holden had to drag the little runt out of the house. Forcing him to get some perspective usually helped him find some inspiration. Why didn’t he call me earlier?It’s a good thing we showed up when we did.
Once the coffee was ready, Holden filled the mugs and took them out to the art studio. Carefully he placed Mark’s cup on a separate desk to avert the disaster a spill over the storyboards
