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Chapter Thirteen
“Hello?”
“Um, yeah, hi. Is this Stacy?”
“Speaking.”
“Huh?” There was a fairly long pause on the other end of Stacy’s phone
line. “Oh... okay. Um, this is Nick Carter.”
Stacy madly racked her brain. The name didn’t sound familiar, which
meant she was going to have to fudge it until she figured out who he was.
“Hi, Nick. How are you?”
“What? I’m fine. Um... I’m the guy with the car you decided to blitz
with a shopping cart.”
Oh. It was that guy. Stacy rolled her eyes at the ceiling. He might
have been good-looking - although it had been hard to tell behind those
sunglasses - but he seemed just a little high strung. Flipping out over
an invisible scratch... someone didn’t have their priorities in order.
“Are you... did you hang up?” Nick said in shock, his voice climbing
upwards.
Stacy almost started laughing at the tone of his voice. “No, I’m still
here. How’s your car?”
“Oh, it’s fine.” Nick dismissed that idea.
“Then exactly why are you ringing?” Stacy wondered.
“Ringing?” Nick repeated blankly.
“Calling!” Stacy corrected to the Americanized version.
“Oh. I’m calling for completely personal reasons.” Nick said
confidently.
Stacy smirked. Not only was he high strung, he was arrogant too. “Are
you, now?”
“Yeah.”
“I might as well let you know, I don’t usually go out with guys I meet in
parking lots.” This was a policy Stacy had just made up on the spot.
But, it might be a good one. You never knew what kind of nuts you could
meet in parking lots.
“Okay...” Nick said slowly. “So, where DO you meet guys?” He was
smiling now. She could tell from his voice. “Name the place and time
and I’ll meet you there.”

Article in the Seattle PI - April 17th
Mariners closer AJ McLean has a new nickname in the clubhouse. Players -
and the occasional coach - have taken to calling him The Cool Guru. We
did some exhausting, backbreaking research and found this out: No one
knows why they’ve started calling him The Cool Guru.
Then right fielder, Nick Carter shed some light on the name. “Oh that?”
he laughed when we asked him about the origins of The Cool Guru. “AJ
named himself that.” But, of course. How else could something like that
happen?
The Cool Guru wasn’t available for comment, but his secretary (who looks
suspiciously like AJ McLean) assured us the name had been bestowed
because of the utmost respect and reverence for The Cool Guru’s
magnificent abilities. He also agreed to join the PI as an honorary
member. Starting this Thursday, The Cool Guru will be answering your
questions free of charge on the Inside Baseball page of the sports
section.
AJ would like to point out, “The Cool Guru answers questions about
anything except how to throw a screwball, because he doesn’t know to do
that.”
You can e-mail, fax or mail your questions to us at the Seattle
Post-Intelligencer at...

Stacy was sitting calmly at the little round table in the cafe, reading
over a report she had to turn in to her supervisor by the end of the week
when someone rapped quietly on her tabletop. She looked up, more than
just a little surprised to see Nick Carter standing there in khaki cargo
pants and a hooded blue sweatshirt.
When she had told him about the cafe she usually went to on her lunch
break, she hadn’t actually expected him to show up. She had said it on a
whim, something she seemed to be doing a lot lately. Packing up and
moving halfway around the world had been on a whim too. That one had
worked out quite nicely. Maybe she should be spontaneous more often. It
could pay off.
“You’re surprised to see me.” Nick surmised, and quite correctly too.
“I honestly never expected you to show up.” Stacy admitted.
Nick smiled and sat down across from her. Stacy found herself suddenly
wondering if this entire situation might not be so bad after all. When
he was actually in a good mood and his sunglasses were off, he was a nice
looking guy. Blond, nice tan, good-looking face in a boy-next-door sort
of way, and a great smile.
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that if you want to get rid of me.”
Nick propped his elbows on the table, making it lean slightly to his
side. “Even though I almost did get lost. The one way streets keep
messing me up.”
“How long have you lived here?”
Nick scrunched his nose up as he thought. “Almost a month.”
“A month?” Stacy repeated in shock. And she had thought being in
Seattle eight months made her a newcomer. “Where’d you live before?”
“New York.” Nick shrugged and stared out the window behind her, not
offering any more information.
“I moved here eight months ago from Calcutta.” Stacy offered. “India.”
She added after a moment, noting the look of confusion on Nick’s face.
“I knew it was over there somewhere.” Nick defended, leaning back in his
chair. “Why’d you come over here?”
“Well, I was offered a job... and just decided on the spur of the moment
to take it. Don’t you ever have one of the moments where this completely
illogical idea pops into your head, and then common sense takes over and
tells you you’re nuts?”
Nick ran his hand through his hair. “I guess.” It was obvious he had no
clue what she was talking about.
“It was one of those, and common sense kicked in at the airport in Tokyo.
Of course, by then it was too late.” Stacy smiled.
“What kind of job?” Nick asked, leaning forward again, and picking up
the recycled paper napkin on the table, started tearing it into little
pieces.
Stacy sighed. “I’m a cytotechnologist.”
As she had expected, Nick’s jaw dropped slightly, before a big smile
spread across his face. “A WHAT?” He had dimples when he smiled.
“Cytotechnologist.” Stacy repeated slowly. “Researching cancer cells
for a pharmaceutical company trying to develop a cure for cancer.”
Nick blinked. “Do you always use big words like that?”
“Yes.” Stacy retorted. “So, what do you do?” She had noticed he wasn’t
offering a whole lot of information about himself.
“Um...” Nick finished shredding the napkin and stirred the pile of paper
with his finger. “Do you follow sports?”
“Not really.” Stacy was being diplomatic. She had no clue about sports
of any kind, especially American.
Nick nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s kinda what I
figured. Do you know who the Mariners are? The baseball team?”
Stacy shook her head slowly.
Nick seemed to relax a little. “Well, I’m a Mariner.”
“I see.” She didn’t see at all. For all she knew, he could have been
chasing turkeys around a mud pit. “I’ve never seen a baseball game.”
“Really?” The dimples appeared again as he smiled. “That’s so weird.”
“Well, I beg pardon, but it’s not especially popular where I grew up.”
She was flirting openly now, and rather enjoying it too.
Nick’s face lit up. “Okay, I got an idea! Are you busy tonight?”
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