There are no excuses to why I took so long to update all I can say is that I'm sorry. But I hope to make it up to you now.

The fantabulous lil hummingbird beta'd this. I threw her a piece of lumber and she made a dining set, a grandfather clock and a little armoire with it :D

Hope you like this :)

No Manual Included

"Give 'em the old razzle dazzle/ Razzle Dazzle 'em/ Give 'em an act with lots of flash in it/ And the reaction will be passionate/ Give 'em the old hocus pocus/ Bead and feather 'em/ How can they see with sequins in their eyes?"- Razzle Dazzle, John Kandor & Fred Ebb.

~.~.~.

"Hello?" Said the female voice on the other end of the phone line.

Shit. I'm actually doing this? I expected a gritty, jaded voice but I'm met with a soft, melodic voice. All she said was 'hello' and I'm already speechless. Literally.

"You don't want to say anything?" There's light teasing behind her voice, not in a condescending way but in a more playful way.

I clear my throat, I want an image.

"What do you look like?" I blurt wanting to beat my head against the wall.

"Sorry?" She asks surprised.

"U-u-um…" I stutter feeling my heart beat painfully against my chest. My palms are clammy and the alcohol makes my almost-empty stomach, lurch.

"I'm a redhead."

For some reason this disappoints me. I like brunettes. I think on the tail-end of my buzz.

"Do you like redheads?" She sounds curious, not wanting to offend her I tell her I do. It's not that I don't like redheads… I just prefer brunettes.

"That's good. Tell me a bit about yourself, you sound… interesting."

"I do?" I croak. I sat down when my call went through and I felt like I had to sit down. My phone shook in my hand but I felt a thrill deep inside when she said I sounded 'interesting.'

"You do." She agrees and I hope her tone is as honest as I make it out to be.

"You sound interesting too." I offer quietly, wishing I don't sound like an idiot.

She giggles a carefree giggle that makes the corners of my lips curl. I let myself fantasize that this woman isn't faking her interest, like all other desperate men who call her. I'll let that feeling roll through me. It feels good, for a brief moment, even though it's a lie.

That's why I called right? For the fantasy? Besides, I'm paying her for this, might as well get the most bang for my buck.

"You might be wondering why I'm calling you," I start wanting to clear the air but something tells me to keep my mouth shut.

She interrupts me before I can say anything further, "no it's ok. I don't need to know."

"You don't?"

"No, I mean no offense," she says hurriedly, "but I personally believe you don't have to explain yourself. You found my number, felt you needed to call me and here we are."

Feeling the awkwardness my subconscious had been trying to warn me against, I say nothing and wishing I'd kept my mouth shut. The veil is gone and here I sit with a phone to my ear with a lovely-sounding woman who gets paid to talk sweet or dirty things to me.

"I take it this is the first time into the business?" She asks, playful again. '

The business' is a nice way of saying 'a phone sex operator' but who am I to judge. I'm just as bad as she is and even then is this really bad? We're just talking.

"Yes." My voice shakes slightly as I bow my head sheepishly. I feel stupid now and I'm ready to apologize and hang up but what she says next surprises me.

"You should hang up."

"What?" I snap my neck up imagining she's standing in front of me. A tall, voluptuous redhead—a Jessica Rabbit-type and I feel stupid and chauvinistic for doing so.

"You should. You don't sound like one of them." Her voice is serious and as-a-matter-of-fact.

"One of them?" It seems like I've resorted to echoing questions but my mind is reeling wanting to know why she would want me to hang up. I mean she needs me to keep this up, literally.

"You don't sound like my usual caller."

"Is that a bad thing?" I see my life before my eyes but not in a death kind of way. Here I am, being rejected by a woman yet again. It's even worse that she is faceless. I glance around my darkened living room, the only light comes in through streetlights outside giving the room an eerie silver glow.

"No." She sounds like she's thinking about it, "that's not a bad thing."

I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. This woman should be telling me to stay, to elongate this conversation as much as possible because she wants to get as much money from my call as possible.

Instead, here she is telling me to hang up because I'm not 'one of them' and that's a good thing?

Taking a deep breath and feeling the tiny lick of rejection fuel me, I say, "I don't want to hang up. I could be 'one of them.'"

"What do you mean?"

"I said," exhaling loudly, I gather the little courage I possess and barrel through, hoping in the back of my mind that she doesn't laugh at me. "I could be one of them. One of your other callers."

"Really?" I hear the disbelief laced around her beautiful, clear voice. There's also a tone of curiosity too.

"Yes." My voice quivers, my nerves are making me jittery as I begin tapping my right hand on my thigh to no particular beat.

"I could also tell you how… hard I am." It's a little lie since my cock has softened since her faux rejection. I want to see how far my 'courage' can take me though so I continue. "I want to."

"Then do it." She tells me, not as a request but as a challenge. The woman on the other side doesn't believe that the man speaking to her wouldn't.

I bite my lip feeling the desire to prove her wrong flare and I go for it. "I'm hard." I accepted her nonverbal challenge with those words.

"Are you?" Her voice is soft but falsely unassuming, there's more to her question than the obvious.

"Y-yes, yes I am." I clear my throat looking at the growing bulge between my legs.

"I've never done this before." I admit quietly, feeling embarrassed yet again.

"You haven't?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"N-no. But I'm supposed to tell you how hard I am or something. That's how this works right?

She laughs, "only if you want to."

"I want to."

"Then tell me."

"What?"

"That you're hard. Because you're hard right?" Another verbal challenge.

"Yes I am."

"It wasn't so difficult was it?"

"Somewhat." I confess.

"You're adorable."

Adorable? Not really what I was going for. God, I can't even get this right. "That's not what I was striving for."

"What were you striving for?"

"I… I don't know, something more… sexy." Okay, calling myself sexy makes me uncomfortable. It sounds wrong.

"Well I thought it was sexy."

I was caught off guard by her response. "What was?"

"The fact that you're so adorable."

"You find my adorableness sexy?" My four years at U-Dub, the next four at Stanford and my few years at Oak & Fig flaunt right there and then. My professors and bosses would be proud.

"Very."

"Really? " I swallow the lump in my throat. I can't tell if she is being honest or if she is acting, well doing her job.

"Absolutely."

"You're just saying that."

"Why would you say that?" Her voice sounded genuinely shocked.

"Because, isn't this your job, to tell me what I want to hear?"

She doesn't answer my question. Instead she asks, "What's your name?"

"My name?"

"Yes. Your name."

"Anthony." I say right away. Why did give her middle name?

"Anthony. That's so… mmmm…"

That sound… I had to suppresses a groan. "You like my 'name'?"

"Yes. There aren't a lot of Anthonys. I've met a lot of Mikes, Jakes, Tylers, Erics but you're my first Anthony."

I'm her first Anthony. I smile. I like that. Then a sudden wave of anxiety washes over. What if there will be other Anthonys? I don't like that idea.

"Jezebells?"

"Call me Bells."

"Ok. Bells. Is it presumptuous of me to want to be your only Anthony?"

She giggles again, and it goes straight to my dick like an laser. "Are you sure you need my help? You sound so… smooth."

I started to laugh but I stop myself. I don't want to make her feel bad. "Smooth? Me? Right."

"No, I'm serious Anthony. You have such a smooth voice it makes my panties wet."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not Anthony. I really am wet for you."

"Really?" Part of me wants to believe so very badly.

"Yes. Are you still hard for me?"

"No." I answered honestly.

"No?" She sounded shocked and maybe a little…hurt?

"No. I was hard for Jezebells but I want to know Bells. Does that make sense?"

"Yes because I wasn't wet for the caller but now I'm wet for Anthony." She laughs.

"The caller?"

"The generic person that morphed into you, Anthony."

"You say my name with a caress." I blurt out.

"Because you sound like a gentleman." How can she think I'm a gentleman when I'm calling her for phone sex?

"Do you think I'm a gentleman?"

"Uh huh. You sound like you would take care of me if we were in front of each other." She is right about that, I would.

"You would run away at my awkwardness."

"You're not awkward."

"Yes I am. Very much so. I'm only able to talk to you because we're not face to face. But if we were, I would be in the corner, drinking scotch and not say anything."

"I don't know what you look like, but if I were to hear your voice alone I would want to get to know you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"What else would you do?"

"If we were at a bar I would pull you to a dark corner, and run my hands all over your body." There is that purring again.

"How do you imagine me?"

"Tall, young and stunning." She pauses for a moment and then let's out a small laugh. "Should I me asking you this?"

"Should I be?"

"It's usually how it goes, but I like this. I like how the tables have turned. Are you a blonde?"

"No, I have auburn hair. People say I have an odd copper color with hints of blonde and brown."

"Oh, that sounds nice."

"Nice?"

"Yes. Are you tall?"

"6'2"."

"Hmmm…"

I wonder if she likes tall men. I clears my throat and ask,"do you like that?"

"Yes, very much so."

"Why?"

"Because it's different. Like Anthony."

I like that that answer. A lot.

"Do you work out?"

"Would you not like me if I didn't?"

"No, of course not but I want a visual."

"I do." The fact that she wants a visual makes my stomach drop and my dick harder.

"You do?"

"Yes. Not as much as my cousin and her husband but I work out twice a week."

"Your cousin is a gym rat?"

I laugh, "you could say that but not with the negative connotation. She owns a gym."

"That's cool. She must be a hardass."

"She is."

"Does she have copper hair too?"

"No. She's a natural platinum blonde."

"Why did you make the distinction of her having natural blonde hair?"

"Because isn't it common for women to assume platinum blonde is dyed?"

"You make a valid point but I wouldn't have thought that she was a bottle blonde."

"Really?" I find that hard to believe, most people do.

"Yeah you're right. I would have thought that." This time we both laugh. "But don't make assumptions like that. Girls won't flock to you with those types of assumptions."

"I'm sorry. It's just that she gets so many jeers from other women. My sister tells me it's just jealousy but I don't know."

"I agree with your sister, women can be bitchy."

"Are you..? Are you… bitchy?"

"I'm a woman right?"

"God, I hope you are." Suddenly I became very nervous that I've been duped and was talking to a man.

She laughs loudly. "I am. I am a woman. If I was a man I wouldn't have a very feminine voice right?"

"Ever heard of Ronaiah Tuiasosopo? He could do a pretty good impression of a woman if you believe everything that came out."

Her laughter dies down to giggles. "Touché. But I really am a woman, I promise. Anyway, I won't say I'm not bitchy because that's not true. So in answer to your original question, I could be."

"Because you're a woman? "

"Yes, because I'm a woman."

I knit my eyebrows together. "I think you're being harsh on your own gender."

"That sounds kind of familiar…" She comments to herself.

"It does?"

"Yes. I can't think of where I've heard something to that effect somewhere else."

"Another caller maybe?" She doesn't realize the thought of her other callers makes me feel slightly jealous. Not that I have a right to be.

"No, it's not like that."

"How many calls do you get a night?" Stupid, I chastise myself. Do you really want to know the answer to that question?

"Um… why do you ask?"

"I don't know," I mentally kick myself, "curiosity maybe?

"Are you asking me that or are you answering me?

"It depends."

"On?"

"Are you mad I asked?"

"No, I'm not."

"Then it's an answer."

She laughs. I exhale, feeling relieved that I haven't upset her.

"It depends on the night."

"Sorry?"

"The amount of calls I get. It depends on the night; there's no set number. "

I furrow my forehead with slight anger. She doesn't have a set salary?

"But you work at the thea- but you work in the day right? " Dammit! I almost letting it slip.

"I… do…" She asks warily.

"So it doesn't really matter then."

"How did you get my number anyway?" She questions.

"Um…" Shit, this is not good. "A friend referenced me to you."

"A friend? " Her voice sounds defensive.

"Yes, he's one of your callers." Close enough.

"Really? What's his name? I want to thank him."

"Thank him?"

"Yes. Because let's face it, he's helping me out in more ways than one. So… what's his name?"

"I only know his real name; I don't know the name he gave you." I lie, sweating and wishing I sound believable.

"Oh. I see…"Yeah she's not buying it. I can't tell her that it's Emmett.

"I have to go Bells." I need to get out now while I can otherwise this could turn ugly. I'm such a coward.

"You do?" She sounded surprise and maybe a little disappointed. I shake my head. She's only disappointed because you're not spending any more money.

"Yes. I have to go in to work early and I'm beat."

"Ok Anthony." Her voice sounds distant.

I don't really know who to end this. I have fallen right back into the awkwardness again. "Ummm… Thank you for the time." You can never go wrong with using your manners and being polite, right?

She laughs, "thank you for calling."

"You're welcome."

"You're welcome too." I sit on the line a little longer. Do I just hang up?

"Bye." I say quickly.

"Sleep well Anthony."

"You too Bells."

"Bye." She says and then pauses.

"Bye." I say again and then hang up.

Damn. I ruin everything don't I? Instead of phone sex I managed to have a weird and awkward conversation with her. She must think I'm such a fucking loser.

Great. Just great.

Reviews feed my inspiration. You don't want me to be hungry right?

If you haven't had a chance, go and read my other WIP, You Drive Me Wild; lil hummingbird's That Doesn't Happen in Real Life- trust me it's worth the few seconds it takes to get there. Three words: Magic Mike Edward in one of the most recent chapters. No words. And a story I'm beta'ing Do You Remember by Cevvin; it's on hold right now but it's just as good as HB's :D