Still The One Ch 01

October 30

10:00 A.M. Mr. Ellis looked like an undertaker, but he was much more than that. He was the finder of lost loves, or, in this case, the finder of wanted-to-be loves. He set his jet black briefcase on the table in front of the gentleman who hired him and said, "I found her."

A calmly excited voice responded. "Really? Where?"

"She owns several pharmacies in the metro area but mainly works out of the one at 906 Travis Street; Stuart's Pharmacy."

"A pharmacist?"

"Correct. She's been one for almost ten years now."

"Here in Houston, you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"She always was a smart, pretty young thing. I knew she'd make it big one day. Christ. She's been under my nose all this time and I didn't know it."

"She's been here for only two years. I traced her from work records in California."

"Still, two years—I should have seen her." The client slid the envelope of money across the table to Mr. Ellis. "Job well done. I appreciate your time."

"I appreciate your business." Mr. Ellis took a card from his wallet and handed it over. "Pass the word. My prices are fair, and I can negotiate."

"What you just did for me was worth a mint. And if she's open to seeing me, I'll be glad to endorse your ad in the Houston Chronicle, free of charge, naturally."

"That's what I call spreading the word."

The client watched as Mr. Ellis walked from the office, and then called directory assistance to get the number for Stuart's Pharmacy. "Hello?" The voice on the other end was definitely that of Ms. Beverly Stuart. Her voice hadn't changed in almost twenty years, and he relished the sound of it. "Can you tell me what your store hours are...? And that is 906 Travis Street, correct?... Thank you."

At 7:30 that evening, the man approached Stuart's Pharmacy and stared at the building covered with garish Halloween decorations. She had always been the festive type—it fit so well with her personality: bubbly. He smiled at the talking Dracula. "Never steal a drop without your Blue Cross identification card. It could save your life!" Cute, real cute. He walked in.

Behind the counter, Beverly kept her eyes on the exact dosages to get her customers' prescriptions right and ready for tomorrow-morning pickups. Fresh out of a terrible relationship, working like crazy to keep her mind occupied was the only thing left to do.

As she worked, she thought over her life, wondering if she did the right thing by putting Tony out a few weeks ago. He was good for curing the loneliness for a hot minute, but that was it. Other than that, he wasn't worth the dime in his pocket. As usual, her next set of doubts set up camp in her mind: would she have had a happier life in San Diego if she hadn't moved back to Houston? Living in California was fine, but she missed her family, friends. One in particular came to mind: Debbie Jacobs. They'd been pals years ago, despite the constant presence of Debbie's kid brother and all-around monster, Ethan Jacobs. Ethan had always been cute in his way, but he was a pest.

When you're fourteen, you for sure don't want a snotty-nosed little chump tagging along. She and Debbie were at the age where they had the hots for boys and any X-rated film they could sneak in to. That ended when Debbie's mother went to work in the ER of Hermann Memorial and was on call most nights. Ethan was practically forced on them, and even at the tender age of eight, the little snot was sizing Beverly up. Yes, the cute little tyke wanted her; as if he knew something about sex. Frankly, it grossed her out to think Ethan was smiling at her.

Sure, she was consider pretty, with satin-brown skin, long ginger hair, and dark brown eyes, but she didn't want a kid drooling over her. Yuck! As it always happened, Ethan was around because she and Debbie were inseparable. They were mad about the boys and were going to get to them, come hell or high water—even if they had to have Ethan right behind them.

That was many stories and lifetimes ago. She had lost contact with Debbie, who had gotten married right out of high school to one of those boys they were hot over. Beverly went on to college to become a pharmacist. As far as Ethan was concerned, she hadn't any idea what happened to him. She just assumed he got hauled off to some institution for the sexually insane. Good for his little butt. Other than right now, she hadn't thought of him too much.

The last thing she wanted to do on Devil's Night was working late doing the books. Her idea of a cozy, haunted night was to be in front of her television watching anything scary featuring her favorite, Mr. Vincent Price. Weirdos and slashers were her thing, for some reason. Maybe it stemmed from wanting to do away with Ethan years ago.

Nonetheless, her work night was to be a long one—at least for another hour. She owned several pharmacies in the metro area and had to make sure everything was right before the following morning to sell packets of alcohol chasers to late night partyers. Yes, Halloween would be a big night—her pharmacy would make a mint on inebriation fixers and keep Houston hangover free.

It wasn't quite closing time, and there were a few customers left to serve, plus another employee who hadn't left yet. Beverly was about to let her off early when another customer came in. She watched other customers leave and told her employee to take off; that she could handle the last guy who'd just came in.

Carol really didn't seem to want to leave Beverly in there alone with a strange man on that particular evening—either that or Carol was checking out how fine his ass was and wanted to hook up with him later. No matter, Beverly made her leave so she could size him up instead.

This gentleman was just browsing, and she didn't know if he'd come in for a prescription or what. After a few more minutes of staring his delicious ass down, Beverly decided it was time for him to either buy something or leave. She was tired and wanted to get back to the comfort of her own queen-size bed—alone. This man was cute, though, cute enough to share that big bed with. She couldn't help checking him out. Something about him made her stare, stare, stare. There was something more than an instant attraction, something familiar about him, but what?

She noticed how his eyes would search her, then dart away like he was shy. Maybe it was a male thing—checking out the action. That was cool with her, because he was the sexiest thing that had ever stepped foot in there. Her usual customers were men in their seventies and eighties, humped over, and trying their best to flirt while flashing a toothless grin. That wasn't about to happen, not for her. If she was to take up with a man ever again, it would be the long, lean, sexy type, the type that was walking her way. The gentleman was definitely an attention getter, and she hated the fact that his very persona was close to flooring her. He was stacked, had dark curly/straight hair, and looked like the baseball player Alex Rodriguez (A-Rod), who was as fine as a needle in a haystack; a welcome sight!

Beverly was actually a little nervous about speaking to him, for fear of mumbling gibberish. She cleared her throat. "Sir, we're about to close. Is there something I can help you with?"

He walked up to the counter, and her legs got weak. He smiled and skyrocketed he straight to the moon. Even his teeth were pretty—straight, with no gaps or missing teeth, just perfect. He was damn fine walking DNA. Beverly was used to primates or single-celled organisms like Tony or her ex-husband, BJ, because that was all that approached her. She knew she was lovely—why couldn't she get the handsome ones? Even this man, she thought, was going to buy whatever he needed and then leave the store.

As he approached her, he looked straight into her eyes. At first he didn't say anything, but she encouraged him a little. "Sir, are you okay? Can I get you anything? We are about to close."

He leaned in to her with that delicious smile. "You sure the hell can get something for me, Beverly Stuart."