The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series

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The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series Page 19

by Patrice Wilton


  “I do too.” I was crimson by now. Everybody was staring at me. “Of course I do. I just don’t think it’s important.”

  Terri, my ex-client, who I haven’t seen since the night we both met Jed, happened to walk by the open door. “Lydia, well, hello. I heard some of the conversation, but I didn’t realize it was you. Isn’t this exciting? It wasn’t that hot guy we met, was it?”

  The color drained out of my cheeks and I dug my nails into the palms of my hands to keep from tearing my hair out. “Terri. It’s such a surprise to see you here. So, are you enjoying your new single status?”

  She flashed a diamond the size of my pinkie. “Not for long. I’m engaged again.”

  Of course you are. “Congratulations.” A false smile was plastered on my face.

  “Let’s get together. I’d love for you to meet Neil and I so want to meet this new guy. Come on, tell me. Is it that Kevin Costner looking guy? Lucky you, if it is.”

  I didn’t say a word, just continued to smile like the village fool which seemed somehow apt.

  “I can hardly believe you’re pregnant. I really didn’t think you liked men. I almost thought you were batting for the other team.”

  * * *

  That was it. I was never getting my teeth cleaned again. They could all rot and fall out for all I cared. Who cares who the father is? It’s the twenty-first century. HEL..LO, anybody out there?

  If I talked to one more idiot in my lifetime it would be too soon. What I needed was a swim. A long mile swim in the open sea always put me at peace; it had a soothing effect and I damn well needed some soothing. Marching into the bedroom, I put on a simple black Ann Cole suit, grabbed a towel and my thongs, and took the elevator down to the beach. I found a little spot to put my things and ran into the surf with a sense of glee.

  The water felt wonderful, a little cool, but lovely and refreshing. I had missed this and my frequent runs while I was convalescing. The exercise did my psyche good. It stopped me from turning into a bear.

  And the stupid episode in the Dentist office had put me very much in a bear-like mood. I was ready to bite someone’s head off and snarl if they looked at me.

  As soon as I was far enough out, I dove under a wave and came up brushing the hair off my face and spitting out water. I began to breast-stroke, warming up, and then when I felt ready I stretched my arms over my head, one after the other, one after the other, in an easy rhythm that set my pace. Arm over arm, mind over matter. All my troubles evaporated as I swam the length of the beach. I was nearing some rocks and about to make my turn when I felt pain, and more pain.

  Not a shark bite, but a nibble. Lots of nibbles. They hurt like hell. Something was feasting on me. Treading water, I glanced down. I was surrounded by jelly-fish, semi-transparent globs that wanted me for lunch. I had no choice but to swim to shore with the little buggers biting me every inch of the way.

  I was half crying by the time I pulled myself out of the water. And I was a half mile from home. I sank onto the sand and had to stop myself from rubbing my thighs, my ankles, my arms, everywhere they had taken a bite out of my flesh. So much for my sense of well-being. I wanted to scratch the flesh of my skin and scream, but instead I painfully removed each tentacle imbedded in my skin to stop the venom from further discharging.

  Already I had a skin rash that was spreading from limb to limb, and even without the stinging tentacles, the pain intensified. And I still had to walk home.

  It took me nearly ten minutes to get to where I had dropped my towel and keys. Lightly, I brushed the towel against my skin, but it brought fresh tears to my eyes. I could barely see as I entered the building and punched the call for the elevator. I was stepping inside when I head a voice shout, “Hold the elevator.”

  Without thinking, I did. It was an automatic reaction, but I should have recognized that voice and hit the close button instead.

  Jed stopped when he saw me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Hi,” Jed nodded, and moved to the opposite side of the elevator. As far away from me as he could possibly get in the small space.

  “Hello, Jed,” I mumbled.

  We didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and I just stood there, dripping wet, in agony, praying for the elevator to hurry up. Jed was looking straight ahead, watching the numbers of the floors go by.

  Finally, he broke the awkward silence. “Lydia, I’m sorry I’d been pestering you. It won’t happen again.”

  “That’s okay.” What else could I say? Besides, I was in too much pain to deal with all those important, life altering issues between us.

  He flicked me a glance. “That’s it? Okay?”

  I shot him a look, then hung my head.

  He must have seen the tears in my eyes and that I was shaking. “What’s wrong? Jesus, what are all those bumps?”

  “Jellyfish. Buggers were on a feeding frenzy.”

  “Holy crap, Lyd. They look awfully painful.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Where were you?” His eyes showed concern.

  “Near the reef. I usually swim down to it and back. Haven’t done it in awhile, and damn, I was really enjoying the exercise until I swam right into them.”

  “They’ve had a sign up all week warning people about jellyfish. Here’s okay, but not around the reef. Didn’t you see the signs?”

  “If I’d seen the sign would I have gone in?” The bear was back, and I all but growled. “I’m not totally stupid.”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  “Please, don’t start with me. I’m in a foul mood.”

  The elevator stopped and he got off on my floor. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m going to make sure you’re all right.”

  “I don’t need your help, nor do I want it.” I marched past him and unlocked my door. “I want to be alone with my misery. That’s what misery is for. To be alone.” I tried to close the door in his face but he was stronger and more determined than me.

  “Go run a cool bath. And while you’re doing that I’ll find something to soothe the skin. Have you got any bicarbonate soda? Vinegar works too. Put some in your bath water.”

  “I don’t want a bath. I think it’ll make the itch worse.” I spoke rather sharply. “Didn’t you just say you’d stop pestering me?”

  “I lied. Besides you need me to apply the dressing on your back.”

  I gave up arguing with him and ran the bath water, adding white vinegar as he said. I sank into the tub and a couple of seconds later, I was yelping. “Ouch, damn, holy shit!”

  Jed ran into the room.

  “Get out of here.” I was standing in the bathtub, stark naked, trying to cover myself with my hands.

  He hesitated and his eyes roamed over me. “I’m sorry.” He tossed me a towel. “Did it make it worse?”

  “Yes, it sure in hell did.” I wrapped the towel around myself. “Is that why you suggested it—so you’d have an excuse to see me butt ass naked?”

  Jed gave a weary sigh. “You sure have a low opinion about men. No, I didn’t even think about that, it never entered my head. Not that I minded the view. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.”

  He put his hands on the towel and began to gently pat me dry.

  “Did I say you could do that?” My voice didn’t sound right. It was unnaturally high.

  “Do what?” There was a half smile on his face as he looked at me. “Take care of you?”

  I pushed his hands away. “Yeah. I can take care of myself. And I’m good at it.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you are.” He cocked an eyebrow. “But you can’t tell me you don’t like it.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

  “Then why did your nipples get hard? And why are your pupils dilated?”

  “They are not. Besides, I’m in way too much pain to get excited by your touch. Believe me.”

  He laughed and unexpectedly dropped a kiss on my shoulder. “All
right then. How about a little experiment to humor me? I dare you. I have a very messy sodium bicarbonate mixture that needs to be applied to your stings. If my touch doesn’t bother you, you shouldn’t mind me applying it.”

  My chin went skyward. I was up for the challenge. “Okay then. I’m going to prove you wrong.” I smiled. “If I don’t get all hot and bothered, you leave, we remain friends, and that’s the end of it. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  I kept the towel firmly around my body as I strutted to the bedroom. I laid the towel over my olive green silk duvet cover and straddled it, stomach down, backside up.

  “There. You can start with my back. And I don’t want your hands anywhere that doesn’t have a rash.”

  “Fair enough.” His hands lightly touched my shoulders, sending me goose-bumps. “But how will I know if you get excited?”

  “I’ll let you know. Trust me.”

  The cold compresses he applied to my skin felt nice against the irritated rash. His hands were gentle, and I thought this was going to be easy. I wasn’t feeling sexy at all. It helped that I was hurting. It also helped that he could only touch the affected area and not where my one piece swim-suit had been.

  I closed my eyes and let him go to work. It felt wonderful. He’d finished with my neck and shoulders and was applying the soda to the back of my arms. With a feather light touch, the back of his fingers brushed along one side of my breast. It may have been an accident so I let it pass. I felt it again, lingering a little longer this time.

  “You’re touching me,” I said in what I hoped was a threatening voice.

  “Did not. I was just doing your arm, which was in proximity of your breast.” I was pretty sure I could hear his heart beat, ka-thump, ka-thump. But maybe it was mine.

  “Okay.” I raised my arms over my head and sighed with pleasure. “There, is that better?”

  “Much.”

  What was the matter with his voice? It sounded a little strangled, as if he was having a hard time breathing.

  “You all right?” I asked.

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I just thought you might be getting worked up or something.”

  “Naw. No problem. I could do this all day, and nothing.”

  I smiled and widened my legs a little.

  “Wow. Your legs are a mess.” He put the soda all over them, inside and out. Only once did his hand come close to the forbidden area.

  With the towel draped around me, I flung myself over, ready for the supreme test. “Okay. Enough for my back. You can begin on my front.”

  Opening the towel just a little for him to get a tantalizing glimpse of my breasts but not my rounded tummy, I closed my eyes and waited.

  He didn’t touch me for a full minute. Since my eyes were closed I could only imagine what he was doing. Unfortunately, the image of him looking at me was as much a turn-on as his hands had been. I felt myself getting moist and my breasts tingling.

  My fingers gripped the towel, and I held on tight. “Well, are you going to do it, or what?”

  He chuckled, and my eyes flew open. I started to smile.

  “Truce?” I said.

  “Truce.” He jumped off the bed. “I think you can manage the front.”

  “Spoil sport.”

  He walked out of the room. “I’ll call you.”

  Sure you will. That’s what all men say.

  * * *

  Operation Candy Bar was about to begin. The girls and I had a tentative plan figured out. Fran had looked in the files, a breach of ethics we all excused since I was being framed and had a right to protect myself. She obtained both Ted and Marcia’s home address and Susie was going to park across the street from Marcia, and Fran would stake out Ted. They lived in two different directions of town but I thought it unlikely that Marcia would go to Ted’s. Due to the fact she made way more money, her place was the better of the two. She’d either have him meet her someplace close to where she lived, or invite him in. I decided to hang out in her neighborhood while I waited for a call to say that one of them was on the move.

  Marcia lived in a swanky neighborhood on the Intercoastal Waterway. I did a drive-by, spotting a security guard in his cubby-hole of a room at the entrance of the condo complex, and as a test decided to see if he would open the gate without questioning me.

  The guard glanced up from his reading, saw my Jaguar convertible, gave a friendly wave, and punched the button that would allow me through. I drove down the palm tree-lined street until I located her address, but I didn’t stop. I drove back out the way I came in and found Susie parked across the road.

  She had her window down and called out to me. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  “The same as you. I figured she wouldn’t go to Ted’s, she’d either meet him somewhere, or have him here.”

  “Uh-huh. Didn’t you just come out of there? How’d you get in?”

  “The guard just let me through. Want to try it?”

  “Sure. Beats sitting here. I feel kinda dumb, you know?”

  Personally, I thought the whole idea was kind of dumb, but I hadn’t wanted to disappoint my friends, and maybe with luck we’d find out if they were actually having an affair, or if Marcia was black-mailing him.

  As we were talking, a silver Lexus passed through the gate, leaving the complex. I watched the car. “Isn’t that what she drives?”

  “Who? Shit! Yes, that might have been her. Do you think she saw us?”

  “I doubt it. If she had, wouldn’t she have stopped to ask us what we were doing here?”

  “I think so. Should I tail her?”

  “That’s why you’re here. Off you go. I think I might mosey back to her place, scout it out. I’d like to get an up-close and personal picture of the two of them in their love nest.”

  “Good luck. I’ll call you.”

  Susie sped off in the opposite direction, and I headed back through the security gate to Marcia’s abandoned apartment. I noticed the Royal Colony complex wasn’t nearly as nice as mine.

  I parked down the street and walked over to her building. I waited until somebody came out, then slipped through the unlocked door. I took the elevator to the second floor, located her apartment, and felt ridiculous. I was a respectable attorney, not a Nancy Drew. What would a private dick do in a case like this? I didn’t have a clue.

  I went back outside and made my way around to the front where her patio would be. I figured out which one would be hers. Ha! She was on a second floor while I was on the fourth, and she only had a partial view. What further evidence did I need to prove that I’m the more successful and better lawyer?

  I was looking around for a possible fire escape, maybe an iron ladder attached to the building like on a TV cop show. The bad guy was forever climbing out of a window and getting away down the fire escape as the police officer gave chase. My thinking was that if you could climb down it, you could climb up it, and I could get to her patio or her bedroom window and snap a few pictures once I saw their lights go on.

  It wasn’t a very good plan, but it was a plan.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  My cell phone rang. Fran shouted in my ear, “He’s leaving. He’s leaving.”

  “Good. Follow him. I’m at Marcia’s apartment now, and watched her leave. They are probably meeting for dinner. If you can, find out where they are going and I’ll try to catch up. I’m looking for a way to get up on the second floor, so when they return I can get a snapshot or two.”

  “You can’t go in there. You’ll get arrested.”

  “I wasn’t about to break and enter, Fran. I was hoping to get near enough to see what the two of them do together, that’s all. And to document it, of course.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Make sure you get some good photos of their faces, if they are dining together. Okay?”

  “Yup. Be careful, and don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I won’t.”

  After
I hung up, I called Susie. “Ted is on the move. Fran’s tailing him. I think I might as well join the chase.”

  “I’m on the 95 heading south. I’ll let you know when she turns off.”

  “Good. I’ll be about twenty minutes behind you.”

  “Chou.”

  I ran around the building and got into my Jag convertible, smelling the newness of the leather as I slipped behind the wheel. This dream car had been my present to myself last year, and I still got a huge kick out of it. It was dark green in color, and the rich interior was a buttery-soft cream leather that smelled as good as the day it came out of the factory.

  Just as I was gloating about the fact I had a nicer car than Marcia’s, I had a mental picture of me and the baby. How was the leather going to smell over baby puke. Not going to happen, I assured myself. Baby knew better.

  Fran called to say Ted had parked in a garage near Lincoln, and was walking down the side street. It had taken her a few minutes to find a parking spot but she was now following a half block behind.

  I knew Lincoln like the back of my hand. “I’ll be there in five or ten. Hang on, I think Susie’s on the other line.” I switched over. “Hey, yes, I’m just talking to Fran. He’s on Lincoln, and I’m heading there. Yeah, I’ll tell Fran.” I clicked back to Fran. “Marcia is heading in that direction and so are we. Let us know where he ends up and we’ll meet you there. No reason the three of us can’t be having dinner together, is there?”

  A half hour later, Susie, Fran, and myself, were seated in a prominent table, perfect for people watching, at Cameron Diaz’s new establishment, Bambu, an upscale Asian fusion restaurant. It was just north of Lincoln on Meridian Avenue in South Beach, and I hadn’t eaten there yet and had wanted to.

  “Hey, girls, this place is really hot. I’m glad they,” I waggled my fingers at Ted and Marcia, who didn’t seem to know where to look, “decided to try this place out. I love Asian.”

  Fran nodded. “Me, too. The food smells terrific.”

  “I think we should get some pictures together, don’t you?” Susie grinned. “We should take lots and if we happen to catch a photo of our friends, well, who’s to know?”

 

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