Uncharted Love
Chapter 1
Georgie Barlow turned away from her computer screen and announced. “I have a boring life.”
“What did you say, dear?”
“I have a boring life,” she complained to Madge Armstrong, her friend and co-worker at the Beacon Pointe Gazette. “I’ve just finished the political beat, obituary and social columns. The mayor’s wife is president of the garden club and if I don’t mention her posies on a weekly basis, I hear about it. I used to love covering the town council meetings but the same people attend and complain about everything, right down to the color of the home-town banners on Main Street. A few of the pompous politicians look directly at me thinking I’m going to report their words of wisdom.
“Sorry, I’m venting. On a positive note, our boss asked me to cover the crime beat until the new reporter starts next week. That might temporarily shake up my life.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re thirty-three years old. Some grand adventure and hot guy is out there waiting for you.”
“And Frosty the snowman could survive in Florida. You’re on the other side of the coin because you have a wonderful husband. My bed partners are a Beagle and a Maine coon cat.”
“At least Todd and Margo don’t steal the covers,” Madge added with a laugh. “I’ve been married to a wonderful guy for thirty years and living with the county medical examiner is an adventure. I’m meeting Stan in a little while at the Plumb Beach Restaurant to celebrate his birthday.”
“The most exciting thing I’ve done recently is go to Beauty Works and have Missi liven up my boring dark brown hair.” The stylist had taken a little length off the front. The slicked-back look was easier to manage and less time consuming. There was still enough length to gather it in a ponytail or messy bun.
“She did an amazing job. The oil slick blend of rust and rose gold melts together.” Madge opened her black leather purse and took out a makeup case that was bulging with cosmetics.
Georgie watched her friend reapply her ruby colored lipstick without looking in a mirror. “You’re such a lady. I don’t own a quarter of the amount of makeup in that bag. Half the time I don’t remember to put on lipstick before I go out.”
“Are you planning to burn the midnight oil?” Madge asked taking her keys out of her purse and shoving them in the pocket of her teal knit sweater.
“I’ve got to finish my column. I’m grateful Mason has given me the opportunity to syndicate Pet Tales and recommended the book publishing arm of Trent Media acquire the Pawsome 3.”
“You claim to have a boring life.” Madge blotted her lips with a tissue. “You put all your adventures into your graphic novels for middle school kids. Do you have any pages ready for me to start the story boards for their latest exploit?”
“That’s what I plan to work on when I get home. Who would’ve thought Margo, Todd and Merlin would become famous? Thanks to you, my fantastic graphic-artist friend who brings their adventures to life.”
“I still can’t understand why you refuse to put your real name on the cover. H. Jorge. People think it’s a guy.”
Georgie shrugged her shoulders and gave her standard reply. “I don’t want the notoriety.” How would her young readers feel if they knew the author of the Pawsome 3 had a father who was a dirty cop and went to prison? It’s something she’d had to live with almost her entire life.
“Well, Jorge, I love doing the graphics and the extra income is great. My little nest egg is going toward a two week cruise through the Panama Canal.”
“The only thing I’ve got to look forward to is keeping a date with the portable scanner in case something “big” happens in our small town. If anything, it will spice up my boring life.”
When the theme from Looney Tunes played on her cell phone, the song she’d assigned to Sherry Jankowski, her landlord, Georgie shook her head, already knowing it couldn’t be good. Sherry only bothered her when there was a problem, and his name was Merlin.”
Be nice, she told herself, reaching for her phone from the side of her desk. “Hi Sherry. How’s Las Vegas?”
“I was having a fabulous time wining at the slots until I got another phone call from the tenant in unit C. It sounds like a damn party is going on in your apartment. Merlin’s squawking ‘rock, rock, rock.’ It’s been going on for over an hour. Why do you insist on leaving Alexa on when you aren’t home?”
“I’m sorry Sherry. I’ve been putting in extra hours at the newspaper because we’re shorthanded and Merlin needs someone to talk to. Unfortunately, his preference is rock music. Since your tenant is a touring actor currently performing in Beauty and the Beast at the Footlight Theater, maybe I can convince Merlin to listen to show tunes?”
Madge’s eyes twinkled in amusement and Georgie stifled a laugh when her friend gave thumbs up. She put her hand over the mouthpiece of her phone. “Sherry just gave me the theme for our next story. They want to start a rock band not giving any consideration to disturbing their neighbors. Lesson learned, 101.”
“I love it! They’ll go in search of Bruce Springsteen to get advice since their adventures happen in New Jersey. I can’t wait to design their costumes.”
Georgie fluttered her fingers in a so-long wave, indicating that her friend shouldn’t hang around. “Wish Stan a happy birthday,” she softly added. The annoying sound of Sherry’s grating voice in her ear demanded attention.
“Georgie, if your late mother wasn’t my best friend, I’d suggest you move elsewhere!”
This was lecture number? Georgie had heard it so many times, she’d lost count. When Sherry was on a roll, the flamboyant socializer totally forgot who took care of the house when the owner went on one of her many trips, or spent a month in Florida as a snowbird. She also had a boyfriend.
“Sherry, I’ll leave a note of apology on his door and have a talk with Merlin. Go on back to having fun.”
“I’m counting on you, Georgie. See you a few days. Oh, I’m expecting a package from Frederick’s of Hollywood. Just put it in my apartment.”
“I will. Have a good time.”
Georgie was further convinced she had a boring life. Her sixty-year-old landlady wore lingerie from Frederick’s of Hollywood and her boring tighty-whities came from Kohl’s.
“Stop feeling sorry for your boring self,” she announced to the empty office. She and Madge had pushed the front of their desks together so they met in the center of the room. A row of picture frames personalized their work spaces. On one side were photos of Madge’s husband and two teenage children who were in their first year of college.
Georgie’s side was similar but she hadn’t given birth to the menagerie she considered her children. Todd, her Beagle and Margo, her Maine coon cat, were the best of buds. Last, but not least was a picture of Merlin, her handsome African gray parrot. He’d blessed her life since she was fourteen years old and inherited her mother’s best friend five years ago after she passed away.
She blew him a kiss. “I love you dearly, but we need to have a long talk or we’re going to lose our happy home.” For the next few days, Alexa would have to remain mute. Merlin wouldn’t be happy, but she’d give him a couple of extra treats.