Read Online How Hard Can It Be? by Robyn Peterman - Free Book Online Page B

this horrible skank woman who’s been stealing ideas from the cute little bondage writing ladies for years. Anyway, skank woman is famous and has had more plastic surgery than Cher, Kenny Rogers, and Sylvester Stallone put together. She thought my ideas were great, which makes me think she’s smoking crack, but that’s beside the point. She hired me for three weeks at ten grand a week to give her my ideas. The little sex ladies think my ideas will bring her career down in flames. At first I was upset that I sucked so bad as a writer, but now I’m okay with it. I want to help the little ladies and like I said, I need a new car.”
    He was shell-shocked. “Um, Rena . . .”
    My man-candy was at a loss for words. He pressed on the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger, clearly trying to ward off the headache that I was sure I’d just caused.
    “Rena, that is the strangest and most confusing thing I have ever heard, but nowhere in that frightening diatribe did you answer my question or explain your bizarre um . . . massage issue.”
    “Oh, right. I was at WMNS to deliver a package for Evangeline O’Hara, the book-stealing, frozen-faced, scary-knockered hag that I’m doing the three weeks of work for.”
    He opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out, so I continued.
    “I didn’t really have a choice. My options sucked. I could either squeeze her rat dogs’ anal glands, massage her newly enhanced with Silly Putty boobs from Newark, New Jersey, or deliver a package to WMNS. I figured if I kept my face covered, I could be in and out of there and no one would be the wiser.”
    “Oh my God,” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.
    “Right? I mean, I wasn’t about to touch her boobies—they start all the way up at her collar bone. I have a very active gag reflex, so butt gland squeezing was out. Do you see how breaking the law was my only option?”
    “Actually, I kind of do.”
    “So you’ll let me go?” I tilted my head and gave him my best sexy look. His eyes flashed and he white-knuckled the steering wheel. He was definitely affected . . . so was I.
    “You’re killing me here,” he groaned. “Rena, I can’t let you go. Dispatch already knows you’re in my custody. Trust me. If I let you go, they will assume you escaped . . . life will get much, much worse for you.”
    “How can it get much worse than this?” I muttered, wondering who I’d fucked over in a past life.
    “Look, I’m going to take you in and we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
    “So you think I’m innocent?”
    “No, you did break your restraining order, but . . .” He paused, considering his words carefully.
    “What?”
    “How many people knew you were coming down here?” he asked.
    What was he getting at? “Three. The Boob Monster, her butler slave, Cecil-Jeeves, and my friend Shoshanna LeHump.”
    “Shoshanna Le what?”
    “Hump. And don’t laugh,” I warned, narrowing my eyes, “her real last name is far more appalling than that. Why does that make any difference?”
    “Because someone called in a tip to let us know you’d be there.”
    “What?” I shrieked. That little bastard Cecil-Jeeves. I knew he was jealous, but I had no idea how far he was willing to go to bring me down. His body language at the writers’ meeting should have tipped me off. I was going to kick his prepubescent-voiced ass . . . right after I served two years in the pokey. Wait! He’d offered to go in my place . . . was that guilt? Or was this the work of the Boobies from Hell? I’d bet my sanity, which was quickly disappearing, that it wasn’t Shoshanna. She was my friend, and I knew too much about her secret life for her to be so stupid.
    “Do you know who would do that?” he asked, starting the car back up.
    “Not for sure.” I answered in a shaky voice. I wanted to cry.
    “It’s okay, Rena; we’ll figure this out.”
    “Are you this nice to all the women you arrest?” I sniffed.
    He took a long pause and