Read Online NOT What I Was Expecting by Tallulah Anne Scott - Free Book Online Page A

threatened or see any suspicious activity, they should
dial 911 immediately.”
    “I’m sure it makes
them feel safer just knowing you’re here.  I know it makes me feel safer,” CeCe
flirted shamelessly.
    “It’s my job,
ma’am.” Deputy Ben said with a smile. 
    No, really?  I
have this overwhelming urge to change the channel.  I can tell CeCe’s excited,
though.  She obviously feels this has been going very well for her.
    Just then the
front desk little girl walked up, flashed Ben a smile, handed him some coffee,
and said, “Just the way you like it, Ben.”
    CeCe’s jaw hit the
floor, and she shot me an I-told-you-so look.  When Ben smiled at the
too pretty front desk girl and checked her out a little as she walked away, my
heart sank for CeCe.  She wouldn’t take this well.
    When Deputy Ben
dragged his eyes back to us, he asked, “Anything else I can help you ladies
with today?”
    CeCe practically
shouted, “No,” and peered at him through slits.  Ben looked confused as he could
feel the temperature had changed in the room, but he didn’t understand why.
    We stood up to
leave, and I gave him a small smile and tiny wave.  We made our way out of the
police station.  As soon as we climbed in and closed the car doors, CeCe let it
fly.
    “Can you believe
that?” she shouted.
    “No, I can’t,” I
said emphatically, shaking my head.
    “What a trampy
little slut,” CeCe exclaimed.
    Oh, she’s going
that way with it.  I thought we’d be upset with Ben, but apparently we hate
Little Miss Front Desk.  Alrighty then.
    “She’s a disgrace
to the uniform,” she stressed while pointing at the building for emphasis.
    “Well, look at it
this way.  Things were going very well for you for a few minutes there. 
Obviously, he’s not completely under her spell,” I pointed out.  That lightened
her mood a little.
    “That’s true,” she
said thoughtfully.  “And the love that I know will be between Deputy Ben and I cannot
be denied.  I have faith in our love.”
    Um, okay.  I’ll
let that go, because I will not be the one to break her heart.  He’ll
have to do that all by himself.
    Her resolve back,
CeCe said, “Do you want to go shopping?  I need a killer outfit to wear to the
neighborhood watch meeting.”
    “Sure, but later,”
I said, “We better get back to the shop.  We’ve left Fry there too long
already.”
    CeCe glanced at
her watch.  “You’re right.  Poor Fry. We better hurry.”  CeCe’s phone rang, “Pour
some sugar on   . . .,” we both started to sing.
    “Hello,” she said,
“Oh, hi Mother.  Eliza’s funeral is tomorrow morning?”  She shot me a ‘ remember
that ’ look.  “Of course we can make it.  Uh-huh that dress would be
perfect.  I don’t know what I’m wearing.  Yes, I’ll make it conservative.  I
promise.  Okay, see you tomorrow.  No, we won’t be late.”  CeCe, hung up and
gave me a ‘ did you get all that ’ look.
    I did.

 
    CHAPTER 4
     
    Before I was
emotionally ready for it, Wednesday morning arrived.  I’m never really prepared
for a funeral.
    “We’re meeting the
sisters there aren’t we?” I yelled down the hall as I pulled on my stockings
under my maroon princess seamed dress.  When CeCe and I were teenagers, we
began referring to our mothers collectively as “the sisters.”  At that age,
since girls tend to disagree with parental figures from time to time, there
were undoubtedly moments the reference included some negative connotations.  At
this point in our lives, the reference to our mothers as “the sisters” was not
only a habit but also a term of endearment.  We were each fond of our aunt as
well as our mother and didn’t want to think of a time when they wouldn’t be our
team of loved ones, butting into our lives at every opportunity.
    CeCe came into my
room wearing one black, strappy shoe with her black suit, carrying a black pump
in her hand.  She looked at me with a question mark