guy.”
“He’s the class clown,” Monk said.
“What about Corinne?”
“She’s the Hermione Granger,” Monk said. “That’s the studious witch in the Harry Potter books and motion pictures.”
“Yes, I know. But I am wondering how you do, since your knowledge of popular culture is virtually nonexistent.”
“Jerry calls her Hermione, so I asked him to explain it to me, and once he did, I concurred that the comparison was appropriate, although she has no magical powers. But she is very conscientious and thorough.”
“Like me,” I said.
“Yes, just like you, except that she’s younger, cleaner, better educated, and conscientious and thorough. For example, on her own initiative, she used luminol to find any blood that might have been tracked out of the room by the police officers and forensic techs, then got on her hands and knees to clean off every speck that she found. That’s dedication.”
“It’s a good thing she wants to be a doctor and not a detective’s assistant.”
“I bet she uses luminol at home when she cleans.”
“You sound like you really like her.”
“What’s not to like?”
“You should ask her out, Mr. Monk. You could invite her over to help you clean your house.”
“Get real, Natalie. She’s twenty-three. And do you really think that someone so clean, conscientious, and thorough would still be unattached? She’s got a boyfriend and a line of willing suitors waiting in the wings,” Monk said. “Oh, that reminds me. You have to get cleaned up.”
“So you keep telling me.”
“No, I mean immediately, right after you drop me off. You don’t have much time before Jerry picks you up.”
“For what?”
“Your date, of course.”
I jammed on the brakes and nearly got us rear-ended. “We don’t have one.”
“Yes, you do,” Monk said. “Tonight at eight. I told him how much you liked him, that you never go out anymore, and that you’re steadily gaining weight.”
“I never said I liked him. In fact, I told you emphatically that he wasn’t my type.”
“But you were wrong,” Monk said. “You’ll thank me later.”
Cars started honking, so I drove on. “Has anyone ever thanked you later?”
“I can wait,” he said.
I wasn’t going to admit it to Monk, but my opinion of Jerry had changed. I was excited about the date, though I wasn’t thrilled that Monk had portrayed me as this plump, slovenly, desperate spinster living in squalor. The fact that Jerry was interested in me anyway was another point in his favor.
I showered, changed into a simple black dress, and scrambled to straighten up the house, though considering Jerry’s line of work, any mess I had would look inconsequential compared to what he usually saw.
Jerry rang my doorbell promptly at eight. He was dressed stylishly casual in a short-sleeve blue silk shirt, khaki slacks, and loafers. The colorful ensemble seemed to make his red hair and megawatt smile even brighter.
“I hope you can forgive me for asking you out without actually asking you out,” he said. “But when Adrian told me that you were single, and that you’d been looking for a guy like me, I was afraid that you’d find him, and that it would be tonight, and that it wouldn’t be me. I’ve been thinking about you since we met at the hotel, and I was gathering my courage to ask you out this morning, but I lost my nerve when I saw you.”
“Why? After the horrible picture Mr. Monk painted of me, how could I possibly have seemed intimidating?”
“You’re smart and attractive, which means you wouldn’t want to be around a guy who spends his days and nights cleaning up gore.”
“That never crossed my mind,” I said. It was a lie, of course, and ordinarily that’s not the best way to start off a relationship with someone, but I had no choice. I vowed to myself that I would be honest with him from that point forward. More or less.
His megawatt smile went supernova. I almost reached for a pair of
“He’s the class clown,” Monk said.
“What about Corinne?”
“She’s the Hermione Granger,” Monk said. “That’s the studious witch in the Harry Potter books and motion pictures.”
“Yes, I know. But I am wondering how you do, since your knowledge of popular culture is virtually nonexistent.”
“Jerry calls her Hermione, so I asked him to explain it to me, and once he did, I concurred that the comparison was appropriate, although she has no magical powers. But she is very conscientious and thorough.”
“Like me,” I said.
“Yes, just like you, except that she’s younger, cleaner, better educated, and conscientious and thorough. For example, on her own initiative, she used luminol to find any blood that might have been tracked out of the room by the police officers and forensic techs, then got on her hands and knees to clean off every speck that she found. That’s dedication.”
“It’s a good thing she wants to be a doctor and not a detective’s assistant.”
“I bet she uses luminol at home when she cleans.”
“You sound like you really like her.”
“What’s not to like?”
“You should ask her out, Mr. Monk. You could invite her over to help you clean your house.”
“Get real, Natalie. She’s twenty-three. And do you really think that someone so clean, conscientious, and thorough would still be unattached? She’s got a boyfriend and a line of willing suitors waiting in the wings,” Monk said. “Oh, that reminds me. You have to get cleaned up.”
“So you keep telling me.”
“No, I mean immediately, right after you drop me off. You don’t have much time before Jerry picks you up.”
“For what?”
“Your date, of course.”
I jammed on the brakes and nearly got us rear-ended. “We don’t have one.”
“Yes, you do,” Monk said. “Tonight at eight. I told him how much you liked him, that you never go out anymore, and that you’re steadily gaining weight.”
“I never said I liked him. In fact, I told you emphatically that he wasn’t my type.”
“But you were wrong,” Monk said. “You’ll thank me later.”
Cars started honking, so I drove on. “Has anyone ever thanked you later?”
“I can wait,” he said.
I wasn’t going to admit it to Monk, but my opinion of Jerry had changed. I was excited about the date, though I wasn’t thrilled that Monk had portrayed me as this plump, slovenly, desperate spinster living in squalor. The fact that Jerry was interested in me anyway was another point in his favor.
I showered, changed into a simple black dress, and scrambled to straighten up the house, though considering Jerry’s line of work, any mess I had would look inconsequential compared to what he usually saw.
Jerry rang my doorbell promptly at eight. He was dressed stylishly casual in a short-sleeve blue silk shirt, khaki slacks, and loafers. The colorful ensemble seemed to make his red hair and megawatt smile even brighter.
“I hope you can forgive me for asking you out without actually asking you out,” he said. “But when Adrian told me that you were single, and that you’d been looking for a guy like me, I was afraid that you’d find him, and that it would be tonight, and that it wouldn’t be me. I’ve been thinking about you since we met at the hotel, and I was gathering my courage to ask you out this morning, but I lost my nerve when I saw you.”
“Why? After the horrible picture Mr. Monk painted of me, how could I possibly have seemed intimidating?”
“You’re smart and attractive, which means you wouldn’t want to be around a guy who spends his days and nights cleaning up gore.”
“That never crossed my mind,” I said. It was a lie, of course, and ordinarily that’s not the best way to start off a relationship with someone, but I had no choice. I vowed to myself that I would be honest with him from that point forward. More or less.
His megawatt smile went supernova. I almost reached for a pair of
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