Becky Doughty - Juliette and the Monday ManDates

Juliette

&

The Monday ManDates

The Gustafson Girls

Book 1

BECKY DOUGHTY

BRAVEHEARTS PRESS

Copyright 2014 Becky Doughty

Juliette and the Monday ManDates

The Gustafson Girls Book 1

All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual names, characters, places, actual events or people, living or dead, are purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

First published in the United States of America by BraveHearts Press

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Author Information: www.BeckyDoughty.com

Juliette & the Monday ManDates

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For Sisters and Daughters everywhere.

God knew what He was doing

when He made

YOU.

CHAPTER ONE

J ULIETTE STARED WIDE -eyed into the rear-view mirror at the red and blue lights flashing behind her. Her palms began to sweat as her heart rate sky-rocketed, and it took her several minutes to pull her little PT Cruiser out of the dinner-hour traffic.

She waited, both hands gripping the steering wheel, as the officer approached her window. Finding it still closed, he tapped on it, and she jumped, letting out a tiny squeal. "Sorry!" she called through the glass, turning the car back on so she could operate the power windows. She worked the knobs, accidentally sending the backseat window up and down twice before she finally managed to get hers open. "Sorry," she repeated, peering up at the very tall officer whose eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses.

"Please turn off your engine, ma'am." His voice was firm, and Juliette scrambled to comply.

"Sorry," she muttered a third time, afraid now to look up at him. She toyed with the keys in her lap, sensing his eyes boring into the top of her head. She was sure she'd smell burning hair at any moment.

"May I see your license and registration, please?"

After wrestling with the latch on the glove compartment, she withdrew the paperwork for her car, then reached into the back seat to grab her purse from off the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him take a step back and put a hand on his holster.

The idea that she might be pulling out a weapon struck her as funny, and she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. Her hands trembled, making it difficult to slide her license from its plastic casing in her wallet.

"Is everything all right, ma'am?"

"Yes, Officer." The late afternoon sun setting in the sky behind him made her squint. She couldn't tell if he was looking at her or not, but she caught a glimpse of her warped reflection in his sunglasses. "I'm just really nervous, I guess."

"Why are you so nervous?"

"II don't know," she stammered as she handed over her license. "I've never been pulled over before, and I'm trying not to freak out."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"Oh. Good. Thanks." She grimaced. It sounded as though she'd been afraid of just that. "I mean, I know you're not going to hurt me. At least I think I do. I meant thanks for trying to reassure me. I can't help it, though; I get nervous easily." She should just close her mouth. She wasn't making things better by talking.

"Do you know how fast you were driving?"

"Um, I think so." She wrapped her damp fingers around the steering wheel again. "Actually, I'm not sure."

"Ten miles over the speed limit." His voice remained calm, patient, rattling her even more. "Do you know what the speed limit is here?"

"Um, I think so," she said again, a hot flush creeping up her chest and neck. "Actually, II'm not exactly sure about that either." Her voice cracked into a whisper.

The officer cleared his throat. "Ma'am, I'm a little concerned. You don't seem to know some pretty important pieces of information that someone who gets behind the wheel of a car should know." His patronizing tone irritated her. "The speed limit here is 35 miles per hour. You were driving 45." He paused, just long enough to make her squirm, before continuing. "Were you in a hurry to get somewhere?"

"No, not really." She shook her head and forgot about keeping her mouth shut. "I was just hungry, and I wasn't paying attention to how fast I was driving."

The officer chuckled, a low rumble that made Juliette's stomach flip-flop uncomfortably. "You were speeding because you were hungry? That's a first."

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened; he was mocking her.

Jerk , she thought to herself. "Well, it's the truth." She tried to glare at him, but the sun made it difficult, and she had to turn away again.

He leaned down to look around the inside of her car while she fumed in her seat. As if satisfied there was nothing suspicious about her, he straightened again, tore off a page from his ticket pad, and handed it to her along with her license.

"Look, Ms. Gustafson. Believe it or not, I appreciate your honesty. But being distracted is a dangerous way to drive, much more so than driving too fast because you choose to ignore the speed limit. Did you know that most accidents happen when a driver is distracted? Let this be a wake-up call for you. It's why we give tickets; not necessarily to punish drivers for bad behavior, but to encourage them to drive better." He pointed at the pink form she was holding. "Just follow the instructions on the ticket, okay?"

She couldn't believe it. He was actually lecturing her! First he mocked her, then he lectured her. No longer nervous, she was offended. She nodded, her lips clamped shut, afraid of what she might say if she let any words slip out.

He patted the roof of her car. "Drive safely now, Ms. Gustafson."

"Thank you, Officer," she managed to squeeze out, her upbringing forcing her to be polite. "Not for the ticket, of course. Or the lecture." Why, oh why couldn't she just stop talking? "I mean, thank you for wishing me safe driving. Thank you for saying 'Drive safely now.'" Her voice trailed off. She stuck her keys in the ignition, turned on the car, and rolled up the window without looking at him again.

"Imbecile," she muttered, not sure if she was referring to him or herself.

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A TICKET. HER FIRST ever. She didn't know whether to cry or celebrate. And today, of all days.

Today marked six months of life without Mike.

Juliette tucked her feet up underneath her as she nestled into the corner of her over-stuffed beige couch. This was her spot. It had always been her spot, and at this rate, it probably always would be. She maneuvered the TV tray over her knees until it was positioned just the way she liked it.

"Another wonderful meal with me, myself, and I. I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want, however I want, wherever I want. No one can tell me otherwise, and I like it this way." She raised her plastic fork in a defiant salute, then stabbed it into the middle of The Green Dragon food on her tray. She spun the utensil until it was loaded with noodles and shoved the whole bundle into her mouth. She couldn't close her lips around the bite, but she didn't care; she just chewed with her mouth open.