Karma Wears Heels [ON HOLD]

Chapter 1, Part 1: Unlucky Groom

Eight years later...

"Do you know that, uhm... TV series... Breaking Bad?"

What a funny topic to restart a long dead conversation. I sat more comfortably in my chair and sipped at the glass I was holding, enjoying the wine as I turned my attention back to the sandy hair guy with glasses too big for his nose sitting in front of me. Colt Mayers may be boring and unattractive but he has a good taste in wine.

"Yeah, that one with people making crystal meth. What about that?" I asked, but I don't really give a damn about that TV show — or my date for the matter. He's just a cover since the poor man has been trying to get my attention ever since I started working at the broadcasting company.

Colt started talking, but I tuned him out as fast as I tuned him in. I'm not interested in his fanboying a finished TV show that do not have a justifiable ending, what I'm interested in is the man sitting with a way older woman in one of the private booths of the restaurant. The two are separated from other people in the restaurant by a glass wall but they act as if no one is looking, the woman is all over the man and their public display of affection is irksome. It is like watching a very twisted cheesecake pornographic movie even without them taking their clothes off.

By the way, the real name of the man is Benjamin Beorkowicz, but he goes by Theodore Manson ever since he started his career as a cougar escort that eventually becomes a boyfriend and then a widower. He's an attractive thirty-seven year old — that everyone pins as a gentleman — with a penchant for rich cougars, but he don't just drain their money — he'll be way too boring for me if he just do that. His motive is to marry the poor old lady, kill them off with some freakish accident, take all the money and then flee to another city to repeat the whole thing.

He was sensationalized last year for the death of his third wife who “tripped in the shower”, dubbing him as the 'Unlucky Groom' but that very attention did not just catch the eyes of adventurous, sex-deprived cougars — like the lady he’s with now — it also caught my eyes.

The lady with him is his fourth cougar in the span of his thirteen-year career, Geraldine Johansson, the owner of the newly built Cougar Casino (aptly named right?) that is quickly dominating Foxtown — the heart of Detroit, Michigan. She has heard of him, phoned him up and in just two weeks after the death of his Californian wife, he's out to get another one in Michigan and for a year I have been the biggest fan of their love affair.

"Earth to Claudia..." Colt waved his hand in front of my eyes and snapped me out of my thoughts.

"I'm sorry about that," was all I said but truth is… I really am not.

He looked down, as if shyly, which in truth is quite awkward for him, "Oh, it's quite all right. I was kind of afraid I lost you to that Theodore Manson," he said, looking over his shoulder and then laughed nervously.

I looked at him for a beat and since he continued laughing, I laughed, apparently he made a joke... And an awful one, but it is my job as his date to laugh at it as it was his job to be my cover for the night.

"Ah, well... Poor guys like me don't have to worry about him until Geraldine Johansson dies," he continued, raking his messy hair with his right hand.

Well, that got my attention, "Why?" I said, finally sitting straight up and leaning towards the table.

"I see that got you interested," he smiled.

I rolled my eyes and tried to act as if what he said was absurd, "I'm a reporter, Colt. I'm programmed to be interested on those kinds of things,"

He nodded and adjusted his glasses, "Oh right... Well, we entered the restaurant the same time as Theodore Manson did and I saw him hide a small box right after I accidentally hit him with my shoulders. Looks to me like he's planning to propose tonight,"  Colt smiled, "I don't know about him, but I'd rather date younger girls," he added with a shy glance at me, his ears turning red because of his rather bold remark.