“My name’s Odette,” I often said, flashing a smile that could stop traffic.
Everyone knew me. Men practically tripped over their feet to get my attention. Everyone noticed me.
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Well, everyone except Monroe.
Monroe, my enigmatic neighbor, was different. Where others were loud and eager, he was calm, collected, and almost… mysterious.
“Morning, Monroe!”
Every morning, I called out to him, hoping today would be the day he’d finally stop and chat. But all I ever got was a nod or a brief smile
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“Why do you even bother?” Brielle sneered. She lived two houses down and made it her life’s mission to outshine me.
“He’s not interested.”
I’d shrug, pretending her words didn’t sting. “Maybe he just likes a challenge.”
But Brielle had this way of getting under my skin. She was always competing with me—best garden, best parties, and of course, best at capturing Monroe’s attention.
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One day, as I was trimming my roses, I overheard her laughing with Monroe in her garden.
“Monroe, you simply have to come over for dinner sometime,” Brielle was saying, her voice dripping with charm.
She leaned in, touching his arm lightly, her laughter ringing out like a victory bell.
My grip tightened on the shears.
“Enjoying yourself?” I called over, trying to keep my voice light, though the sight made my blood boil.
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“Oh, Odette, didn’t see you there. Just having a little chat with Monroe.” Brielle glanced back, a smug smile playing on her lips.
Monroe nodded politely, his calm demeanor as infuriating as ever. I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Something drastic. I need to do something drastic,” I muttered to myself as soon as they were out of earshot.
That night, I sat at my desk, tapping a pen against my chin. My thoughts kept drifting back to Monroe and the way he’d barely noticed me, despite all my efforts.
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An idea struck me! It was bold, maybe a bit crazy, but exactly what I needed.
I scribbled a note:
“Looking for a date that can surprise me. The best one wins my granny’s inheritance.”
With a sly smile, I prepared to send the note to the local newspaper, imagining how, in a few days, everyone in our little town would be buzzing with curiosity.
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As I sealed the envelope, a thought crossed my mind:
Who would Monroe notice now? And more importantly, who would be the number one contender for his heart?
Brielle would finally see who was truly in control. Let the games begin.
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***
The next morning, I was startled by the sight of a long line of men stretching down the street, all eager to win my favor. I stood at my front door, blinking in disbelief as suitor after suitor approached, each more determined than the last.
The first man, a tall fellow in his late 40s with a rose in hand, stepped up to me and dropped to one knee.
“Odette,” he began dramatically, “I have written a poem, just for you.”
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He launched into a painfully long recitation about love, destiny, and the stars aligning just for us. His voice wavered with emotion, but I could barely keep from rolling my eyes.
“That was… lovely.”
The next suitor stepped forward, juggling three brightly colored balls.
“Watch this, Odette!” he called out, as the balls flew through the air. He added a few fancy spins and a clumsy attempt at juggling them while hopping on one foot.
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When he inevitably lost his balance, the balls tumbled to the ground, and I giggled.
“Impressive.”
My tone didn’t quite match the word. The poor guy just grinned sheepishly and stepped aside.
Next in line was a really young gentleman who had put some thought into his performance. He brought a small table, placed a deck of cards on it, and began shuffling them with expert precision.
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“Prepare to be amazed, Odette,” he announced, executing a series of card tricks.
He made cards disappear, reappear, and even guessed the card I had randomly selected from the deck. I had to admit, his tricks were more captivating than the others.
“Well done,” I said, clapping lightly.
He tipped his hat and moved on, satisfied with his effort.
I found myself starting to get caught up in the excitement of it all. This crazy adventure was kind of fun.
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So, I decided to make myself comfortable. I grabbed a chair, set it up in the backyard where I could have a good view of the spectacle, and settled in to enjoy the show.
A few more men followed, each bringing their unique talents—or lack thereof.
One tried to serenade me with a guitar, though he missed most of the notes. Another attempted a magic trick involving a coin, but the coin ended up rolling down the sidewalk instead of disappearing. And yet another handed me a box of chocolates with a nervous grin.
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But then came a man with a rather dangerous idea.
“Watch this, Odette,” he said, as he pulled out a set of fire torches.
My eyes widened in alarm as he lit them, juggling the flaming sticks in a dizzying display. The crowd around us gasped.
Suddenly, one of the torches slipped from his grip and landed too close for comfort. The flames licked at the dry grass near my fence, and panic surged through me.
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“Somebody call 911!” I yelled as the man scrambled to extinguish the flames.
Within minutes, the sound of sirens filled the air, and the fire truck arrived, followed by an ambulance. While the medics were fussing about that mess, I needed a moment to breathe. I decided to take a short walk.
It would give me a chance to see how many suitors were still waiting for their turn—and to see if Monroe was among them.
“I’ll be right back,” I muttered to no one in particular, making my way toward Monroe’s yard.
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***
Monroe had been watching the spectacle from his yard, leaning casually against his fence. He caught my eye and called out:
“Odette, looks like you’ve turned your place into an amusement park! Should I buy a ticket?”
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I blushed at his teasing, but before I could reply, I noticed something unsettling happening in my yard. The men were gathering, their excited shouts rising.
Without another word, I turned and hurried back, desperate to see what was unfolding.
The suitors who had been so eager to impress me now stood in a tight circle, their expressions no longer friendly.
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One of the men, a tall guy with a cruel grin, stepped forward. “We know there’s no inheritance, Odette.”
“You’ve been playing us all along. Now it’s your turn to put on a show!”
I opened my mouth to protest, to explain that it was all just a joke, but the men weren’t interested in hearing my side. They wanted payback.
“Come on, Odette!” another fury man shouted, his voice filled with mockery.
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“Let’s see those tricks and dances you made us do!”
“I… I didn’t mean…” I stammered, but my words were drowned out by their jeering.
They closed in around me, their demands growing louder and more aggressive. “Dance for us, Odette! Sing us a song!”
Suddenly, I felt a cold, sticky substance pour over my head.
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“Ugh, what a disgusting mess!”
I gasped as the syrup trickled down my face, clinging to my hair and clothes. Before I could react, a bag of feathers was tossed into the air, raining down on me and sticking to the syrup.
The crowd erupted into harsh laughter, their amusement at my expense ringing in my ears.
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“Now that’s the show we all deserve!”
I stood there humiliated. My attempt to capture Monroe’s attention had backfired spectacularly, leaving me as the laughingstock of the neighborhood.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away.
Suddenly, I spotted Brielle at the back of the crowd. She was smirking, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
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“Did you really think you could fool everyone with your little inheritance stunt? Well, looks like you’ve got some cleaning up to do, Odette. Good luck with that!”
The humiliation, the laughter, the jeers—it was all too much! I bolted from the yard, desperate to escape the nightmare I had created.
***
The street seemed to stretch on forever, and with every step, the sticky mess clung to me, making it harder to move.
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I didn’t stop until the houses faded behind me and the trees of the nearby woods surrounded me. Only then did I fall to my knees as sobs wracked my body.
How had it all gone so wrong?
I had wanted to win Monroe’s attention, to show Brielle she wasn’t the queen of everything. But instead, I’d made a fool of myself.
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Suddenly, the snap of a twig behind me jolted me out of my misery. Panic surged through me, and I turned quickly, ready to fight off whoever had followed me.
But before I could lash out, a strong hand gently caught my arm.
“Odette, it’s me,” Monroe said softly, his voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. “You’re safe.”
Monroe slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around my trembling shoulders, the warmth and the scent of him calming me down.
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“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
When we reached his house, Monroe let me clean up in his bathroom. I stood under the warm water, washing away the sticky syrup and feathers, feeling better as the evidence of my humiliation swirled down the drain.
By the time I stepped out, I felt like I could breathe again.
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Monroe had prepared a simple meal, and as we sat together at his small kitchen table, the conversation flowed easily, as if we had known each other forever.
“I’ve always noticed you, Odette,” Monro admitted. “I was just never sure if you were available, with all those admirers around. But now, it looks like you’ve taken care of that yourself.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, a real laugh that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside.
And sitting there with Monroe, I realized that sometimes the best beginnings come from the most unexpected endings.
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