Mr. Monk and the Two Assistants by Goldberg, Lee (ready player one ebook .TXT) 📗

wasn’t good enough for my daughter. She stunned me by negotiating an escalator clause. If Sorrento’s made five hundred dollars in sales as a result of the advertisement, her rate would go up to fifty dollars for week two.

“Where did you learn to negotiate like that?” I asked her as we were leaving the restaurant. She’d even managed to finagle two slices of pizza for us to nibble on during our walk home.

“Deal or No Deal,” she said.

"The game show with the bald guy and the briefcases full of money?”

“It’s quality TV,” Julie said.

She now had a strong incentive to do more than just walk around, showing off her cast. I had a feeling she’d be aggressively drumming up business for Sorrento’s all over campus. I just hoped that she wouldn’t provoke the principal into shutting down her business before it even got started.

After all, if Sharona got my job, we’d have to live on those pizza slices and the advertising dollars.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mr. Monk Takes the Case

It was my neighbor’s day to carpool the kids to school, so that meant I could get a few extra minutes of sleep and that I didn’t have to get dressed right away. I could even laze around in my bathrobe and pajamas for a half hour after Julie left and before going to work.

Which is exactly what I did, enjoying a second cup of coffee and reading the San Francisco Chronicle in peace. I was about to go take a shower when there was an insistent knock at the door.

It’s surprising just how much personality and character a knock can have. Without even going to the door, I knew that whoever owned those knuckles was irritated, impatient and in a hurry. So just to piss off whoever it was even more, I took my time getting to the door. I walked around the couch twice and the coffee table once just to drag things out.

I peered through the peephole and was surprised to see Sharona standing on my front step. I didn’t have to open the door to know why she was at my door the first thing in the morning. There was no sense avoiding her and pretending I wasn’t home or was already in the shower. She knew where I’d be going later anyway and I figured this was a confrontation I’d rather not have in front of Monk.

So I opened the door wide and invited her in without even saying hello.

“Yes, I went down to LA and I talked to your husband in jail,” I said.

She marched right past me. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that he might be innocent,” I said, slamming the door. “I’m surprised the thought hasn’t occurred to you, too.”

“You don’t know him and you don’t know me,” she said. “Stay out of my life.”

“Stay out of mine,” I said.

“I’m not in it,” she said.

“You are when you start messing with my livelihood,” I said.

She stared at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that no one was allowed to see Adrian Monk without clearing it with you first. Should I have given you my references, my fingerprints and a urine sample, too?”

“Don’t play innocent with me,” I said. “You didn’t just ‘happen’ to be in Mr. Monk’s neighborhood yesterday. We both know what’s really going on here.”

“You are seriously nuts,” she said. “I have known Adrian for years. I was visiting a dear friend.”

“So dear that you’ve been hiding from him since you returned to San Francisco. But then we showed up in your ER and you discovered that Mr. Monk isn’t pissed at you anymore. And lo and behold, the next morning, you’re at his door with breakfast and whining about how long your hours are and how you wish you had a better job. My job.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Sharona said. “You aren’t the least bit qualified to be caring for Adrian. Do you have any medical training? How about psychiatric experience?”

I got right up into her face, though it’s hard to be intimidating in a pink bathrobe and bunny rabbit slippers.

“You’re right. I am totally unqualified. That just goes to show you how desperate he was for help after you abandoned him,” I said. “I’m the one he leaned on and I didn’t have any experience dealing with someone with his problems. If you think that was easy for me, you’re deluding yourself. But here’s what I’ve learned from it. He doesn’t need a professional nurse anymore. All he needs is someone who cares about him, which clearly you don’t.”

“I will not apologize for choosing to have a life,” she said. “I know I hurt Adrian and I want to make it up to him.”

“By taking my job,” I said.

“He offered it to me,” she said.

“Because you manipulated him into it by telling him your sob story.”

“I told him what’s happening in my life,” she said. “It happens to suck right now. That’s the way it is. But that doesn’t matter. He knows as well as I do that I can take better care of him than you can.”

“This isn’t about helping Mr. Monk,” I said. “You’re looking out for yourself. It’s all about you.”

“You think you’re any different? You didn’t go see Trevor because you think he’s innocent. You’re trying to save your precious job,” Sharona said. “You’re hoping that Adrian can prove Trevor didn’t do it so that I’ll reunite with my husband and go away again.”

“You’re right. That’s exactly what I want,” I said. “What I don’t get is why you don’t want the same thing.”

“Trevor is a liar,” she said. “He always has been.”

“He’s your husband. He’s the father of your child. Now you’re abandoning him when he needs you the most,” I said. “But then, abandoning people