On the Cutting Edge

Trafford Publishing

Chapter One

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Josephine 'Josie' Buchannon felt like the luckiest, most blessed woman alive on New Year's Eve. She was wearing a fabulous sapphire blue evening gown with rhinestone trim, seated at a corner booth in the most elegant restaurant in Lakewood, NY with her fiancé P.J. Coleson, formerly of New York City.

"How do you like the sapphire and diamond necklace I gave you as a belated Christmas present, Josie?" P.J. asked, looking quite dapper in his black satin tuxedo. The candlelight sparkled in their love-struck eyes. It flickered in time with the sultry background music. The atmosphere was intoxicating, is what Josie was thinking.

"It is the most exquisite thing I've ever seen," Josie said, fingering the delicate pendant. "Are you sure you like the sapphire and diamond men's engagement ring I gave you?" She looked at him.

"Yes, honey. It's great!" P.J. cupped Josie's face in his hands and kissed her long and hard. Josie sighed. She felt like she was floating on air. The waiter came with their beverage order, an O 'Doul's for P.J. and a lemon water for Josie. He set them gently on the table and asked if they were ready to order.

"I'll have your prime rib special," P.J. answered. "How about you, honey? What'll you have?"

"That sounds good," Josie said, not having looked at the menu. "Make mine the same, please."

"How would you like them done?" The waiter asked. Josie shrugged. She was more into her date than her plate.

"Medium-well," she said without looking away from P.J. "Thanks."

"I'll have medium-rare, please," P.J. said. Hold the potatoes, fat free French dressing on the salads, and no dessert. Thanks!""

"How about using this time to discuss some wedding plans?" P.J. asked.

"I didn't bring my wedding planner along," Josie said and sat up straight. She had purchased a special book that gave her ideas, tips and guidance on every nuance of wedding planning. It even had pockets in which she could store dress material samples, catalog cutouts and stationery samples. It seemed to be quite thorough. There were so many ideas offered in that guide Josie could not imagine using them all. Some were just too extensive; others, too complicated. She might be rich now, by some standards, but she was still frugal. Her late father would not want her to waste his money on fluffy nonsense, she highly suspected.

Not for the first time, she wished her father had come forward to claim his relationship with her before his lover, Cassandra Coven, murdered him. Coven was the former manager of Sanderson & Sons Advertising Agency and Josie's immediate supervisor. She now had a permanent address in solitary confinement at the women's penitentiary, or so Josie hoped, and Josie was running the firm as Lew Sanderson's rightful owner.

"So, sweetie, what did you want to talk about concerning the wedding?" Josie asked, turning her attention to happier thoughts.

"Like, who walks with whom? How do you pick that—by how close we are to them as friend, or by height, or what?" P.J.'s brow furrowed. Josie smiled.

"Of course, the maid of honor walks with the best man. After that, it usually makes better pictures to pair them up by height. We will take your two shortest friends and pair them with your sisters. The Schneider brothers are both tall, so it really doesn't matter. Did you have a preference?"

"No, but they do," P.J. said and wiggled his eyebrows.

Josie chuckled and said, "I bet they do. So, what are they?"

"The guys saw your staff Christmas photo from your holiday ad. Pete has a girlfriend, so he's okay with walking with Jessica since she's already married. Dave, on the other hand, would very much like to meet Donna. I told him about her punk-Goth period, and he's intrigued." He wiggled his eyebrows again and grinned."

"Oh, you men! You are interested in the weirdest things sometimes!" Josie playfully slapped P.J.'s shoulder.

At that point, the waiter returned with their salads, and they began eating their supper. The steaks arrived not long after that, and soon it was time to leave for the New Year's Eve Ball.

The city council had hired a live band for the ball that was being held at the Lakewood Community Center, just a couple of blocks east of Sanderson & Sons, along Main Street. The orchestra from the community college played Gershwin waltzes and some pops songs. Josie remembered her grandmother listening to that kind of music when she was younger. She still had some old Long Playing Albums she kept in the sitting room.

P.J. twirled Josie around the floor under the disco ball. Some people may think that the disco ball should have been outlawed when disco dancing died away, but Josie liked it. The shards of glass reflected the colored stage lights all over the ceiling, the walls, and the dancers. It was romantic.

Halfway through the evening, workers in black slacks and white tops passed out party favors. Their boxes contained all sorts of New Year's Eve hats, noisemakers, plastic leis and streamers. P.J. picked through the box until he found the last crown and placed it on Josie's head. He picked a bowler derby for himself and a couple of streamers. He handed one of the streamers to Josie.

"Aren't you sweet," Josie murmured in P.J.'s ear as he took her in his arms for a slow dance. "You make me feel like the homecoming queen."

"That's what I was going for, babe."

Suddenly, the music stopped. The bandleader stood up and pulled a microphone off its stand to make an announcement.

"We have just one minute to midnight. Everyone get with the partner you want to be with to ring in the New Year. We want to thank the City of Lakewood for inviting us to share this festive evening with you. Be sure to call 1-WE DRIVE YOU if you've had too much to drink. They'll get you home safely. Everyone in their places? Let's start the ten second countdown ... now! Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!

"Happy New Year!" everyone shouted with him. Then P.J., like most of the other men in the hall, took his sweetheart into his arms and gave her that once-a-year kiss. He dipped her low for a few moments and then pulled her up without breaking contact until they were upright again.

"P.J.! Now, I'm dizzy with the blood rushing to my head as well as from kissing you!"

"Happy New Year, Josie, and many more," P.J. said softly, gazing into her eyes.

"Happy New Year, P.J. I love you," she replied.

"Do you know that the person you're with at midnight New Year's Eve is the person you'll spend the entire next year with?" P.J. asked, guiding her off the dance floor and to an empty table.

"I should hope so!" Josie answered, setting her tiny evening bag on the tabletop.

"Would you care for a drink?" P.J. asked. She nodded and watched him weave his way to the bar. Then she glanced around the room to see if she could spot anyone she knew. Before she had spanned the entire place, Donna Schmidt and her date d'jour plopped themselves onto the extra chairs at Josie's table. Donna was wearing a rag-hemmed gauze gown with a peasant top and lace-up boots. Her date was wearing a tuxedo printed t-shirt, black jeans and high top tennis shoes.

"Hi, Boss! Nice dance, huh?" Donna asked. Josie smiled and nodded. "Hey, I want you to meet Terry Richards, here. He's in town just for the weekend. We used to go to school together."

"Hello, Terry," Josie said. "What field are you in?"

"Oh, I'm not a farmer, Ma'am," Terry said, shaking his shaggy black hair. "I'm into race cars and work as a pit crewman for a Busch Series racer who likes to travel. I'm just home for the holidays. Nice to meet you. Come on, Donna, let's dance!" Donna shrugged her shoulders, waved goodbye to Josie, and followed her date onto the dance floor.

Just then, P.J. returned with a couple of Diet Cokes and set them on the table. He took a seat next to her and took a swig of his soda pop. "Wasn't that Donna from work?"

"Yes, and her date, Terry Richards. Apparently, he works for a traveling race car driver, so they're home for the holidays." Josie took a sip of her drink as well. "For a second there, I thought he looked familiar."

"Fascinating," P.J. said. "Did you want to dance some more, or are you ready to leave?"

"Let's blow this gin joint!" Josie said, and then giggled. "I've always wanted to say that, but never had the opportunity." P.J. laughed with her. He stood up, took her hand and led her to the coat check stand to collect her cape. Along the way, he drew out his car keys and hit the sequence that would start the engine automatically. It would take the chill off the interior by the time they reached it.

P.J. took Josie back to his apartment. They had spent a handful of nights cuddled on his couch when she had to take care of him after he had burned his hands in a work-related accident. They would fall asleep watching a movie or one of their favorite detective shows on TV. He had rented a romantic movie for tonight, not knowing what to expect. It was New Year's Eve, and they were engaged to be married. The wedding was set for the first Saturday in April. That seemed so far off. He hung up her cape and his tux jacket in the hall closet and returned to the living room.

"Would you like a glass of wine to toast the New Year?" he asked Josie, raising his eyebrows. He knew she didn't routinely drink alcoholic beverages, but this was a special occasion. And, it wasn't like he was offering her hard liquor.

"Okay, sure," she said, surprising him. He nearly tripped over his own two feet on the way to the refrigerator. He set a bottle of Blue Nun on the countertop and reached into the upper cabinet for wine glasses. He had purchased a matched pair the other day in preparation for tonight. After filling the glasses halfway, he put the bottle back into the refrigerator. Josie toyed with the idea of getting drunk tonight. A lot of people drink to excess on New Year's Eve, she rationalized. And, I'm not going to be driving home.

"I'm sorry it's not an expensive brand of wine," he said as he handed one of the glasses to Josie, "but, I wasn't sure you would drink any of it, and I didn't want it to go to waste."

Josie held up her glass for the toast and looked at P.J. expectantly.

"Right, here goes. To a New Year filled with love and passion, to a smooth wedding and the best honeymoon anyone could ever wish for!" P.J. said, and clinked glasses with her. Then they both took a sip of wine.

"Here's to success and prosperity in all we do, and may we do it all together," Josie said. They clinked glasses and took another drink. She set her goblet on the end table, smoothed her dress and took a seat on the couch. "What movie did you rent?"

P.J. set his glass next to hers and stepped over to the television, picked up the plastic case laying there and looked for the title, "It's 'old school'. I hope you don't mind. Tell me if you've seen it already. I can pull out something else. It's Dirty Dancing, with Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Gray."

"Would you believe that I have never seen it, but others have told me that it is a lot more romantic than the title would lead you to believe." She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. P.J. smiled at her and inserted the DVD. Then, he went to sit by her on the couch. He reached across her to pick up his wine glass, kissing her neck as he did so. Not watching what he was doing, he caught the base of the stemware on the lip of the end table and spilled it down the front of Josie's evening gown. Josie gasped.

"Ooh! That's going to stain," P.J. said lamely. "I'm really sorry. I'll pay for the dry cleaning." He got up and ran to the kitchen for a towel. He grabbed the whole roll of paper towels from the counter top and ran back to the living room, unrolling sheet after sheet as he went. He handed the bundle to Josie who sopped up as much as she could get.

"P.J., could I borrow a pair of your pajamas so I can treat this dress before the stain sets? Would you have some club soda in the refrigerator? I can treat the stain with that. It should help." She got up and headed down the hall toward P.J.'s bedroom. She had been in his bedroom only once; the day she helped him move in. She had carefully avoided that end of the apartment ever since.

"Uh, yeah," P.J. said, tossing roll of paper towels toward the counter on his way back to the bedroom. He rummaged through the chest of drawers and brought out a brand new package. "I sleep in my boxers," he said, and blushed. "My parents are always giving me presents I never use."

"Thanks," Josie said, shifting the paper towel to one hand and taking the new pajamas in the other. "Please unzip my dress for me, and then set out that club soda. I'll be out in a jiffy."

"Okay!" P.J. said, waiting for her to turn around. He reached up with trembling hands and slid down the zipper head. Just as he thought, she didn't have on a bra. His breath caught in his throat and his pulse began to race.

"Please get out that club soda, now," Josie said, clutching her dress to her as she turned back to face him.

"Uh huh," he mumbled, spinning around before he lost control of himself.

"Shut the door behind you," she said and watched him leave, doing as she had told him. Dropping the dress quickly, she tore into the pajama package, plastic wrap flying in all directions. She snapped out each piece and slid into them, having to roll over the waistline several times. Then she cuffed the bottoms and the sleeves. Once she was satisfied the pants weren't going to fall off with her first few steps, she picked up her dress off the floor and headed back to the kitchen. P.J. had left out the club soda, as she had asked, so she was able to hold the dress over the kitchen sink and apply the stain removing beverage. She rubbed the skirt against the bodice, hoping it would not wreck the material. Then, she squeezed out as much soda as she could and went to hang up the dress in the hall closet.

Returning to the living room, Josie sat down next to P.J. and picked up her wine glass. She downed what was left and made a face. "It got warm. Eew. But I have thought of another toast. P.J., may I have some more wine, please?"

P.J. trotted to the kitchen to fetch the Blue Nun and quickly returned. He refilled both their glasses. They held them up for the toast.

"Here's to a year with no murders!" They clinked their glasses and then drained them. P.J. took both goblets and rinsed them in the sink while asking, "Would you like to watch the movie in my room? I've got a small flat screen TV that has a built-in DVD player. It will be more comfortable than sleeping double on the couch again."

"That is probably true. Let's test that theory," Josie said, surprising herself. Then, she let out a burp. "Oops! Excuse me!" Then, she giggled. P.J. was by her side in a heartbeat.

"Are you okay?" he asked, taking her by the elbow.

"Mm hmm," she murmured and leaned against him. P.J. put one arm around her and reached out with the other for the DVD. Then, he guided Josie down the hall to his bedroom. He set the video on the chest near the TV and turned to help Josie get into bed. He pulled down the navy blue comforter and matching sheet. Then, he swooped Josie off her feet and laid her on the mattress. She slid in further and pulled up the covers while P.J. went to the TV and inserted the DVD, pressing "Play" on the remote. He adjusted the volume before putting the remote on the nightstand. Next, P.J. slipped out of his tuxedo pants and white shirt, sat down on the bed and removed his socks. Rolling into bed and drawing the covers up in one smooth motion, he turned toward Josie.

"I want you," he whispered in her ear." He rolled toward Josie, leaned down and kissed her neck.

"I wuv you, too," she mumbled and rolled away from him with her eyes closed.

"I don't think you heard me, dear," P.J. spoke a little above a whisper this time. "I want you. I don't know if I can wait until our wedding night to make love to you ... Josie?" He touched her shoulder and leaned over to look into her face. She started snoring softly.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from On the Cutting Edgeby J.J. Luepke Copyright © 2012 by J.J. Luepke. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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