Free A LITTLE BIT OF SUGAR by Lindsey Brookes Page A

and one big, red, spongy nose?
     
    “Look out! We’re being invaded by evil clowns!”
     
    Startled, I jumped and spun around, losing my nose in the process. “Carla, you nearly scared the crap out of me.” I bent down to pick up my oversized nose.
     
    She leaned against my bedroom doorframe in her favorite pair of Garfield pajamas, grinning. “Hmm...clown crap. Now there’s an interesting thought.”
     
    “Shut up,” I muttered as I stuck my fake nose back on. “It’s too early in the morning for me to appreciate your smart ass sense of humor.”
     
    Crossing her arms, she arched a neatly plucked brow. “Uh-oh. I do believe some little clown got up on the wrong side of the circus bed this morning.”
     
    Okay, so that was funny. I managed a smile under the makeup I’d caked on my face. “Sorry. I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night.”
     
    “Because of this?” she asked, nodding at my not-so-professional makeup job.
     
    “No. Because of Anthony.”
     
    Her eyes rounded. “You snuck him into your bedroom last night? Though I have to say I’m not surprised after that make-out session I saw you two in yesterday.”
     
    I walked over to grab my clown suit from my closet where I’d hung all my costumes. “Anthony didn’t spend the night here.”
     
    “But you said he kept you up all night.”
     
    “Thinking about that kiss kept me up.”
     
    “Understandable.” Carla stepped into my room and settled herself on the edge of my bed while I dressed. “I’m glad you’re finally giving him a chance.”
     
    Was I?
     
    * * *
     
    I sat in my car for nearly twenty minutes before I gathered up the nerve to show myself in public. With one final glance in the rearview mirror to make sure my red rubber nose was in place, I stepped from the car.
     
    Grabbing the handful of helium-filled latex balloons from the backseat, I headed into the country club. Several passing cars on the main road honked their horns at me.
     
    Let the humiliation begin.
     
    I made my way, balloons and all, into the restaurant area of the clubhouse, garnering a lot of really strange looks from the members having breakfast there.
     
    “Can I help you?” the hostess asked, her gaze moving over me.
     
    “I’m here to deliver a message to a Vinnie Smoldino.”
     
    She called her manager over, and, after a quick whisper session, the woman led me back to the back of the dining area where a group of businessmen sat eating breakfast.
     
    “Vinnie, you’ve got a special delivery.”
     
    He turned in his chair to look at me while his companions looked on with wide grins.
     
    I forced a smile. After all, what was a clown without a smile? “Your co-workers at Districh and Myers wanted to wish the ‘office clown’ a happy fiftieth birthday.”
     
    Announcement made, I burst into song. It was one of several given to me by my employer at Wacky Willy’s. The song all depended on the occasion.
     
    It was so bad I waited for glasses to start shattering all around me. And halfway through my nose fell off. I finished the song, picked my nose up off the floor, and then raced out without bothering to wait for a tip.
     
    Unfortunately, I forgot to leave the balloons, so I stood outside in the parking lot debating what to do. I didn’t want to go back inside.
     
    Just then a little girl and her mother got out of a nearby car and started for the clubhouse. I hurried toward them.
     
    “Little girl,” I called out in my best ‘clown’ voice imitation.
     
    She turned and looked up at me. Then her blue eyes widened and she screamed so loud I was sure my curly red wig was going to shoot right off my head. A second later, she burst into tears.
     
    “She’s afraid of clowns,” her mother said as she quickly led the terrified kid away.
     
    I couldn’t really blame her. There was nothing normal about someone who had their face painted all creepy-like, wore an oversized polka dot shirt and yellow and red striped pants