CHAPTER THREE

Adrian was in the midst of cleaning the kitchen cabinets - for the second time that day - when he heard a knock at the door. Setting down his sponge and spray bottle, he rushed to answer it.

"Hey, Adrian!" his assistant greeted him cheerfully, wriggling out of her jacket as she made her way inside. Before he could respond, Sharona had already begun to survey the apartment. "Okay, so, where did you last see it?" she wanted to know.

Her boss shifted uncomfortably. "Um, i-it's . . . uh . . ."

A worried expression came over Sharona's face. Adrian didn't look so good. His face was kind of pale. "Um, Adrian," she began softly, laying a hand on his shoulder, "It's just a little mouse. I-It shouldn't be that traumatizing."

A pair of petrified eyes met her gaze. Now that she was right here, right in front of him, he didn't know if he would be able to go through with it.

"Adrian, I think you need to sit down," the nurse suggested kindly, applying a gentle pressure to his shoulder. "Um, I'll go and look for it, okay? You just stay right here."

"Sharona, I . . ."

"What is it, Adrian?" his assistant asked, moving to sit beside him.

Slowly, he turned to face her. "Sharona, um, there's something that I need to tell you. Um, well, f-first of all, uh . . . There is no . . . mouse . . . in my house. Um, I-I used it . . . I used it as an excuse to get you to come over here." He paused, waiting for his friend's reaction.

An emotionless "oh" was her only response.

"Are you mad?"

Silence.

But then, a moment later, the blonde burst out laughing. "I can't believe I fell for that! You're a terrible liar!" she cried, smacking him playfully on the arm. "I didn't doubt you for even a second, Adrian! Well, yeah, I was so excited about getting out of there, but still . . . I actually thought you were telling the truth!"

Monk blushed. Despite the fact that she wasn't angry with him, he still felt guilty for deceiving her.

"Why are you so embarrassed, Adrian?" the nurse wondered, still giggling. "I should be the one who's embarrassed!"

"Well, I've never lied to you before, Sharona."

"You made up some stupid story about a little mouse. I wouldn't really consider that lying."

Her boss managed a small smile. "I-If you say so."

"I do say so. Now, do you want to hear about my disastrous evening?"

"It was that bad?"

Sharona groaned. "Oh, 'bad' is not the word for it!" she exclaimed. "That was the date from hell. I mean, the entire time, all he did was talk about himself. It was horrible! I still can't believe I survived for as long as I did. I am telling you, hearing your voice was the best part of the entire date. I am so grateful that you called. You have no idea!" She laughed again, and Adrian's smile widened. He loved Sharona's laugh.

The detective wanted to say it right then. The words I'm in love with you, Sharona were on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason, he could not cajole them out of his mouth. Adrian felt frustrated. He had promised himself that he would tell her tonight, and he had broken that promise.

Sharona's laughter soon faded, and she let out a sigh. "You know, when you-when you really think about it, i-it's not all that funny. I mean, what is it about me that attracts loser after loser after loser? They-They just . . . flock to me! It's so pathetic. You'd think I'd give up already." She shook her head sadly. "Heh. Guess I'm a loser, too."

"You're not a loser, Sharona," Adrian said firmly.

"Then what the heck is wrong with me?" the blonde demanded in a shaky voice. Tears of frustration had begun to well up in her cerulean eyes.

"Sharona, it's not you, okay? If those guys can't see how wonderful you are, then-then it's their loss, not yours. Don't beat yourself up over this. You'll find the right guy. I'm sure he's . . . not very far away."

This elicited a faint smile from Sharona. "Thanks. But I just . . . I just can't remember the last time I dated someone at least halfway decent."

Adrian nodded sympathetically. "You know, I'd really like to do something to make this up to you. A-And not just to make up for this night, but for all those other nights, too."

"What do you mean?" his companion wondered, sniffling.

"Well, I'm really sorry that you have such bad luck with your dates. So, I want to do something to try and make you feel better."

The smile broadened a bit. "Oh, that's sweet, Adrian, but I'll get over it. Don't worry," she assured him, plucking a tissue from the box on the coffee table and gently dabbing at her eyes.

"But I want to do something for you, Sharona. Please?"

"Um, o-okay, Adrian, if you insist."

"I do insist. H-How about if we do something tomorrow? Something . . . special?" he proposed, the last word barely audible.

"What'd you have in mind?"

"Well, uh . . . What's the one thing in life that you've always wanted to do, but never had the opportunity?"

"You mean, besides meet better men?" she joked, the sadness beginning to disappear from her voice.

The detective couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, Sharona. Besides that."

"I don't know, Adrian," she said, shrugging. Then something occurred to her. "Oh, you know what? I can't tomorrow anyway. Benjy and I already have plans."
Monk failed to conceal his disappointment. "Oh? What kind of plans?" he queried, hands fidgeting.

"We're having a picnic lunch in the park. You can come with us, if you want," the nurse offered. "I'm sure Benjy wouldn't mind."

The detective's face drooped. "A p-picnic? Where we sit on the . . . ground, and we eat on the . . . ground?"

His assistant giggled. "There are such things as picnic tables, Adrian. We don't have to eat on the ground."

This fact offered little comfort, however, for her boss was already picturing a commercial he had seen a few weeks ago. In it, a parade of ants marches across a picnic table, climbing over watermelon slices and sandwiches and serving utensils and . . . Monk shuddered. "C-Could I have some time to think about it?"

"Yeah, sure. Call me in the morning, okay? I've gotta go. I promised Benjy's babysitter I'd be back by ten."

"Okay," Adrian replied, nodding in concordance. He was somewhat discouraged, however, because he realized that he would now have to wait until tomorrow to make the confession.

On her way out, Sharona stopped just short of the door. "Hey, Adrian, um, I just wanted to say that . . . well, that this evening wasn't a total disaster. Thanks for being there for me."

Just as she pulled the door closed, the dark-haired detective whispered, "You're welcome, Sharona."

A contented smile etched in his features, Monk walked to the kitchen to put away the cleaning supplies.

I'm really looking forward to our picnic tomorrow.