Any Man Of Mine by sade meeks (best 7 inch ereader .TXT) 📕

Ever just get this insane urge to take the words of a song and shove them down someone's throat so he'd get the message? No? Well, consider yourself lucky. Me? Well, that's essentially what I did tonight. I still cringe at the memory of being up on that stage though. God, I hate putting myself as the center of attention. Goodness knows my job and "luck" do it often enough for me as it is. I tried to tell the girls that, but would they listen? Noooooooooooooooo!

Lula got it into her head that the way to deal with my relationship problems was to sing about them. Never mind that I'm not that good a singer. I mean, a few years in the children's choir at church does not a superstar make. Not to mention, that was easily twenty years ago.

"Girl, listen to me. Singing is therapeutic. I never realized how much until I joined The What." The What is a band a friend of mine, Sally Sweet, started a while back and Lula had signed on as a singer. Most of their gigs these days are at the senior centers around Trenton so what does she know about Karaoke therapy in a bar?

"Lula, I'm not going up there. No way." Once Mary Lou joined in though, I had no chance of winning this debate. So with a sigh, I downed the rest of my beer and headed to the Karaoke machine. I knew there was no way around it. I just hoped there wasn't anyone here who'd recognize me. Vain hope, I know. I wound up in the paper way more often than I'd ever want. See, I've got a problem with cars exploding around me, buildings too, even the local funeral home went up in flames when I was there one evening. It's never my fault, at least not directly, but it happens all the same. The local reporters have given me the moniker of the Bombshell Bounty Hunter as a result and I have a hard time being anonymous these days. Sometimes that can make my job a bit more difficult than it already is. As the nickname implies, I'm a bounty hunter, fugitive apprehension agent, whatever else you want to call it. My low life cousin Vinnie bonds out the local criminals. Some decide they don't want to show up for court and I usually get sent to drag them back into the system. The upside of the moniker is not so many people remember my real name which is Stephanie Plum.

As I waited for the guy at the Karaoke machine to finish explaining how it worked, I let my eyes wander around the room and instantly wished I hadn't.

Sitting at the bar, his back to me, but still unmistakably him, was Joe Morelli – one of the reasons Lula believed I needed song therapy. Joe is my on-again, off-again boyfriend. I wasn't sure which it was at the moment. We'd had yet another fight about my job and the fact that I just did not want to be a stay-at-home mother and housewife. Joe can't understand why I wouldn't want exactly that. He's not the only one either; my mother also refuses to understand it. I'd stormed out of Joe's place, headed to the bond's office, and run into Lula. Next thing I knew, I was in her firebird and we were here. She'd called Mary Lou in for back up and now I was standing here staring at Joe's back as he drained one beer and signaled for another.

"Well shit!" I thought. I can't go back to the table without doing this; Lula would just drag me back up here, possibly at gun point. I didn't have my car here either; Lula had driven. I briefly considered heading to the phone to call Ranger but I really didn't want to explain this to him. Ranger is my friend, my mentor, and the other half of my relationship problems. There is something undefined between us, and other than not knowing what it is, I'm usually okay with things. Confused, but okay. Calling Ranger was out and going back to the table was out. That left just one option. I was going to have to go through with the Karaoke. Looking over the list of song titles, I got an idea. Since I had to do a song anyway, maybe I could find one with some significance and get my message across to Joe. My eyes fell on "Any Man of Mine". Perfect! Country music isn't really my thing, but I knew this one thanks to a late night stake out in the sticks when all I could find on the radio was country, religious services, or political talk shows. I had opted for the country and the song had stuck in my mind because I could really understand the sentiment behind it.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and decided to just get it over with already. By now my last beer had started to set in and I wasn't as self-conscious. The music started as I walked on stage and shot a death glare at Lula and Mary Lou. They raised their glasses and grinned back. I had to look away.

Thank goodness for the words on the monitor in front of me because while I liked the song, I didn't exactly have it memorized. As the first words came out of my mouth, Joe turned around and stared at me dumbstruck and shaking his head. I caught his eye, willing him to understand, and decided just to focus on getting my message across. If he didn't get it after this, I didn't know what I'd do. As the song was finishing, I looked back up one more time, hoping to see realization dawning on Morelli's face. I didn't see him anywhere. Where in the world had he gone and how could he have just left?

I finished up and with my face flushed, both in embarrassment and anger, I went back to the table where the girls were at.

"Girl! That was something. Even if it was country. You want me to talk to Sally and get you into The What? You looked pretty intense up there. What's up with that?"

"I saw Joe at the bar and thought…oh never mind what I thought. It doesn't matter. It didn't work." Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! What was I thinking? Did I really expect one song would break through that thick skull of his and make him see reality? See me for me and not who he wants me to be? When all of our arguments over the years hadn't made a difference? Who am I trying to fool? I grabbed Mary Lou's drink, drained it, and sighed. "Can one of you please just take me home? I'm tired."

Mary Lou took me home since it was on her way and Lula agreed to pick me up in the morning so I could then get my car from where I'd left it parked outside the office on Hamilton.

Now I was in my apartment on the bed in my thinking position. The words of the song were replaying themselves over and over in my mind. Without any conscious thought on my part, I found myself taking the song apart verse by verse. Then it hit me. I had someone in my life who supported me like that. Accepted me. It just wasn't Joe. Shit! Having it be Batman didn't make my life any easier. Batman, otherwise known as Ranger, didn't really come across as boyfriend material. "Why me?" I wailed, sounding so much like my mother I shuddered.

Talking to yourself, Babe?" Speaking of the Bat…

I rolled my eyes and sat up. Fixing Ranger with a pissy look, I mumbled something about making some noise once in a while. He quietly chuckled. I didn't bother to ask how he came to be standing in my bedroom, when I know I locked the door to the apartment. Ranger broke in on a regular basis. Hell, half of Trenton was known to break into my apartment with an alarming success rate. I wasn't really sure him being here was a good thing. My realization was fresh in my mind and with a few beers in my system, I didn't really trust myself to not say something stupid. "What do you want Ranger?"

"You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" I refused to meet his eyes. I know he'd obviously heard that Joe and I had had a disagreement again. I just didn't know how much he'd heard.

"Babe..." was the only response I got from him.

"Who told?" I tried to get worked up and glare at him, but I was too drained. I just sighed.

"Tank. Lula called earlier to cancel their date. Something about you being upset and song therapy." Ranger raised an eyebrow questioningly at the last part.

"You don't wanna know." I answered his implied question and shook my head. "I had no idea Lula cancelled out on Tank tonight." Tank is Ranger's right hand man, his second in command at his security company Rangeman. He also happens to be dating Lula. Sort of. Actually I'm not sure what's going on between them exactly. "What's going on with the two of them anyway?" Subtle. Good job Stephanie. Change the subject and maybe he'll forget all about "song therapy". Shrugging, Ranger gave me a look that clearly said he knew what I was up to and was going to let it go….for now.

"Car's in the lot. Call if you need anything." With that, he leaned over, kissed my forehead and was gone. Well, no worries about getting to work on time tomorrow. Lula never gets to the office on time so I'd have been late if I had to wait for her to come get me in the morning. I grabbed my cell phone, left Lula a message and got ready for bed.

I managed to drag myself out of bed when my alarm went off in the morning, wishing I could kill the idiot who invented such torture devices. After a quick shower, I threw on one of my Rangeman uniforms strictly out of convenience. I knew I matched. No fuss, no muss. My hair and make-up weren't going to win me any beauty contests but I looked decent enough. I arrived at the office and walked in the door approximately 90 minutes after waking up. Not bad. I think it's a new personal record.

"Any new FTAs for me?" I asked by way of greeting as I shuffled in the door. I had stopped drinking last night just short of getting drunk enough to cause a hangover but I still wasn't feeling on top of my game.

"Yeah, but you're not getting them until you explain this," Connie answered, waving her hand at a vase of roses on her desk. Connie Rosolli is Vinnie's office manager and bears a striking resemblance to Betty Boop. If Betty had a slight mustache and Jersey Girl hair, that is. She's a member of the Family, as in the Godfather type of Family but not an active member if you catch my drift, at least as far as I know. The 'Burg grapevine would probably have let something slip if she was. After all, Connie is only a few years older than me and a 'Burg girl herself. Word would get around. I stared at the vase of flowers she indicated.

"Uh, roses?" I answered, wondering what there was to explain.