Mr. Nasty Pants was out in his yard, mowing the lawn. Gerry peered out through her blinds at her new rotten neighbor. Well, he hadn’t started out as rotten; he’d started out really nice. Then one day, he’d turned cold. And ever since, he’d barely said a word to her.
She had no idea what she’d done to set him off. At first he’d been great, very appreciative over a casserole she’d given him when he’d first moved in. The relationship had progressed; she’d even entertained thoughts of dating him. Then one day she’d waved at him and he’d glared back and stomped back into the house.
She tried to ask him what was going on, but he wouldn’t even give her the time of day. She had no idea what happened. She asked the other neighbors and they had no problems with him. He was still friendly to them. It was only Gerry he was angry with. And he wouldn’t talk to her, so she’d never find out why.
She watched as he worked in his yard. Of course, she couldn’t really help but look at him, he was so hot. He was tall with sandy blonde hair and had that whole V-shaped torso thing going on. He had ropy arms, beefy pecs and nicely developed abs. She knew he worked out; he had a mini-gym set up in his garage and she’d seen him out running. But aside from his hunky body, it was the man’s face that was the true pleasure. Amazing bone structure, carved cheekbones and he had absolutely dreamy eyes. An odd shade of blue, almost teal. She got lost in them during their first conversation. Man, what a hunk.
His real name was Rob Kinter, and he was an engineer for Lockheed. He was divorced with no kids, around her age, late thirties, and that was about all she knew about him. And probably all she was likely to know about him, because he wouldn’t talk to her.
What had she done? She wracked her brain, but couldn’t figure out why he was so upset with her. No matter, she’d learned a long time ago that there was no way to change someone’s mind once it was made up. Her ex-husband had taught her that.
She sighed, grabbed her laptop, and checked her email. She went to her Ask Gerry account, her advice column in-box, and downloaded the new mail. Fifteen questions from readers. Well, that would keep her busy.
She was working on a response to a reader with a question about horrible relatives at weddings when her phone rang. It was Helen, her neighbor and good friend down the block.
“Helen, darling, what’s the good word? How was the business trip? You just got back yesterday, didn’t you?” Gerry asked after greeting her friend.
“This morning. Trip was great, but that’s not why I called. Right before I left, I found out why Rob Kinter doesn’t like you.”
“You did? Spill, spill!”
“He found out you were Gerry of Ask Gerry.”
Gerry’s heart sank. Not another one. “Let me guess, some response of mine pissed him off.”
“Uh… a little beyond that. His wife wrote in and you advised her to leave him.”
“What? I hardly ever—“
“Dear Suspicious In San Mateo…”
“Wait.”
“Her husband didn’t pay enough attention to her and she thought he was cheating and you agreed with her. He was out late at night, answering mysterious calls, he had secret email accounts, secret credit cards—“
“Holy crap, Suspicious in San Mateo! Of course I remember. Oh, God, that was him? He was Mr. Cheater?”
“Yes, you did refer to him as Mr. Cheater. As I recall, your response was something about if it smells like a skunk, looks like a skunk and has secret email accounts, secret credit cards, then he’s a low-down, cheating, secret emailing, secret spending skunk.”
“Oh, dear. Well, for crying out loud, what was his excuse? Who has all this secret stuff without cheating on his wife?”
“I don’t know, but I was talking to him and he mentioned liking you and wondered what you did for a living. I told him and his face went pale, then turned bright red. He said something about you ruining his life and stormed away from me, back into his house and that was it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I was gone, remember? I was leaving for that business trip, some of his mail got delivered to my house, I was dropping it off on the way out. I tried to call you, your phone was busy, so this is the first chance I got to tell you.”
“You know, sometimes I hate this job. People take stuff so seriously. It’s supposed to be for entertainment purposes, you’re not supposed to change your whole life based on a write-in column.”
“Well, apparently, suspicious in San Mateo did leave him. And he wasn’t too happy about it.”
“Well, what was he doing? Why the secret email? Why the secret money accounts?”
Helen sighed. “I don’t know. I’d tell you to ask him, but he isn’t speaking to you.”