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 80

by Patrice Wilton


  “I figured there had to be a good reason we’re padding on inches to our backsides,” I said, eyeing the sweet things on the coffee table.

  Fran wiped chocolate off her cheek with a napkin, crumpling the garbage in her hand. “We have a petition made out-we need to collect signatures from the shop keepers, everyone who lives or works around here, and then take it to the police.”

  Susie pulled the petition out of her bag and handed it to me, careful not to smudge the paper with frosting. “You can be the first one to sign,” she said with a smile.

  “Great. I will be.” I gave into temptation and grabbed a donut before they were all eaten and took a large, yummy bite. When I could speak again, I asked, “Then what happens? Do the police organize the Watch, or do we?”

  “From what I understand, they help plan it it,” Fran said. “We find people who are responsible and willing to commit to this, although I can’t understand anyone not wanting to defend this street, their businesses and their safety.”

  “I made a list of what we need to do today,” Susie said, surprising me. She was not what I’d call the most organized woman I knew. Quite the opposite, in fact. She was the free spirit, the one who’d rush out in the middle of a hurricane, eager to witness the wild, ferocious force of nature.

  “So did I,” Fran said with a frown. “Got mine off the internet, how about you?”

  “Well, mine is firsthand information,” Susie declared, with a tilt of her blonde head. “My manicurist is in a group and she told me all about it.”

  I held my hands up. “I don’t care where you girls got this information, but I’m just so grateful that you did! I don’t know why I never thought of this.” I tapped the sheet. “It’s a wonderful, wonderful plan, and we are going to kick those bad-guy’s butts.”

  “Operation Candy Bar,” Fran said with a pixie grin. “Here we go again.”

  “I would say that calls for champagne, but we’ll save that for tonight.” I stood up, and reached for both their lists. “Okay, let’s see.”

  I glanced at them quickly. “First, we need to form a committee, and since we’re organizing it, I’d say we have three already. Lydia will make four. Then we should get a few more neighbors to join in.”

  “We can do that today,” Susie suggested. “Knock on some doors, let people knowwhat we’re planning. See who wants to sign the petition and join the committee.”

  “Right. Two of us can do that, but someone should stay back and do the behind-the-scenes-work.” I looked at their eager faces. “Fran, you might be the best person to do this. We have fliers to make up, and we need a neighborhood map and Watch signs.”

  “Sure. That’s no problem. I’ll be glad to do anything—as long as I can help.”

  I touched her hand. “You’re the best. I know I can always depend on you.”

  She grinned and nodded. “Old reliable. That’s me.”

  “Susie,” I said, turning to her. “People respond well to you. You could speak with the home owners, while I target the business people.” A thought occurred to me. “Since we’ll have to get them to sign the petition, we’ll have to do this together.”

  “We’ll make a great tag team,” she responded.

  “Irresistible,” I added. “And I’ll call the police and tell them we need a Crime Prevention Officer to speak at our first meeting.”

  Fran was making notes, and now she put down her pen. “Okay, ladies. When’s our first meeting? And where?”

  “Why, at the Candy Bar, of course.” I spoke with conviction, knowing it had to be there. My entire life had really started in that exact spot. “How about this Friday night?”

  “That’s in five days,” she said in a hushed voice.

  “Is that too long?” I asked with a teasing smile. “I think it’s perfect. I’ll keep the bar closed until then, and when the meeting is concluded I’ll open it to the public.”

  “Perfect.” The girl’s nodded in agreement.

  “Fran, the meeting will take place from three to five. When the Officer leaves, the drinks will be free.”

  Susie grinned, and grabbed both our hands. “I haven’t been so excited since my wedding. All of us girls together again, saving the neighborhood, cleaning up the streets. Fighting crime. Hell, it doesn’t get better than this.”

  I couldn’t agree more. I hugged them both, and before I knew it, tears were running down my cheeks.

  “You are the very best friends any girl could have.”

  “I know,” Fran said. “I’ve always felt that way.”

  “Okay then. Let’s finish up these donuts and then get to work. Fran, you might as well stay here. I have the computer and printer in the second bedroom, and we can get the fliers made up at Office Depot. Just do a sample and email it to them, and I can pick them up as soon as they’re ready.”

  “Sure. That won’t take me long. Then I can put an agenda together for the upcoming meeting. We’ll need to make a list of issues that’s important to this community.”

  Susie nodded. “The lady at the salon said we should list the amount of break-ins, that sort of thing.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “Fran, can you compile data on the crime rates in this area? Get some statistics for us to give the police.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “After being the office manager for a busy law firm for all those years, you can do anything.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. And my computer skills might be getting a little rusty.”

  “I doubt that. But one thing’s for sure. Your voice isn’t rusty. You didn’t say anything, but I know that you’ve got another hit song. Number ten on the country charts. That calls for another bottle of champagne.”

  “Woot, woot,” Susie said and clapped her hands. “We have a lot of celebrating to do tonight. Too bad, I can’t drink. I just got some good news, girls. I might be pregnant!”

  Fran and I pounced on her, hugging and squeezing her half to death. Finally, fearing the baby’s safety, we backed off.

  “That’s the greatest news all day.”

  “And it’s not even nine a.m.,” Fran said.

  “Okay. We all have jobs to do. Let’s get started, and Fran, we’ll keep in touch by phone. Dinner’s on me.”

  Susie and I headed outdoors to meet the neighbors and shop keepers, and there was a new bounce in my step. Having something positive to do, knowing that we actually had a chance to make a difference and save our street, gave me fresh hope again.

  While we walked from store to store she told me about the baby news, and I told her about Harrison.

  “Don’t give up, Candy,” she told me, and hugged my arm. “I have a strong hunch that Harrison is the one.”

  “Why do you say that? Especially in light of the fact that our kids are crazy about each other, and would hate to see us romantically involved.”

  “The moment he walked into the Candy Bar and laid eyes on you, I got all tingly inside. Call it a woman’s intuition, whatever you like, but I felt the energy between you even before the lightning hit. He’s the one for you.”

  “Well, my one, as you call him, has gone back to Boston—to his real life, his job, and whatever else he fancies up there.”

  “Ah, but he will return.” She smiled mysteriously. “Just watch and see.”

  “Now you’re a soothsayer?” I quipped. “That being the case, tell me how we’re going to find the asshole who’s trying to bring greed and corruption into this lovely neighborhood, because I want to bring him and his motley crew down.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Susie and I canvassed the area, securing close to thirty names which I thought was good for one day’s work. We told everyone about the upcoming meeting on Friday, urging them to put it on their calendars.

  “We’ll have fliers pinned up all along the street, but please be sure to spread the word and tell everyone you meet,” I kept telling people. “The more support we get, the sooner we’ll get some positive action.”


  Susie managed to get several personal email addresses and I obtained cards from all the business owners, and we told everyone to expect to hear from us within the next day or two.

  Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Fran had made progress uncovering crime statistics and how they had escalated over the past couple of years.

  When Susie and I returned to the apartment, bone-weary, tired feet and all, Fran greeted us with cold champagne, which she informed us, she’d remembered to chill.

  Susie had an ounce of champagne in a flute of orange juice, and saluted us proudly. “Congratulations, Musketeers! Operation Candy Bar is in full swing.”

  “Yes. To us.” We clinked glasses. “We probably should have waited for Lydia,” I said, after a quick sip. “She’s on her way here now.”

  The doorbell rang as I spoke, so we had to toast again—the four of us.

  Taking the bottle, we sat on the sofas and discussed the progress we’d made today.

  Fran spoke first. “I created a template for the fliers and got them off to Office Depot, as you’d suggested. Then I put together an agenda for the initial meeting. After that I sat down to call a few of the local community leaders and churches.” She took a quick sip before continuing, “I asked if they’d donate their services and speak at the meetings. They all agreed, and I made a list of their names. There’s still plenty more we can call.”

  “Fantastic job, Fran.” I winked at her. “I knew you were the organizer.”

  Lydia glanced at our beaming faces. “You’ve all had such a busy day, and I feel like I didn’t contribute anything. So, from here on in, I need to be included. Running the meetings, posting fliers, picking up refreshments—whatever needs to be done, I’m your girl Friday.”

  “I have a suggestion,” I said to her. “Why don’t you help us with the local law enforcement? Show them what we’ve got, and what we plan to do.”

  “I’d be happy to take care of that.” Lydia crossed her long legs and took a sip from her champagne glass. “I need to pull my weight around here.”

  “You got Jake released, don’t forget. And you’ll get him off these ridiculous charges. I wouldn’t say you haven’t done your share.”

  “That’s simple stuff. All in a day’s work.”

  “Speaking of which—here we are sipping champagne, and what did we forget?” I jumped up. “Jake’s probably home, feeling mighty low. I’m going to call him and tell him to get his pretty ass over here, and then we’ll all go out for dinner.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Susie handed me the phone. “I haven’t seen him in awhile, and I need to get my fix. Tell him to leave his shirt off.”

  Fran snorted, and we all laughed. “Remember that time he climbed up on the bar and did a strip-tease for the women? He strutted to a sexy song, and stripped down to his boxers, wearing nothing else but my straw hat.”

  “I bet he made a ton of tips that night,” Lydia remarked with a smile.

  “Good thing the cops didn’t arrive,” I kidded. “They might have fined us for lewd and loud behavior.”

  “Ah, ain’t that the truth?” Fran said with a smirk. “My, we had some good times, didn’t we?”

  “They aren’t over yet,” I answered. “Not by a long shot.”

  As if to prove it, Jake showed up an hour later and picked up all up in a big, shiny black limousine. No one asked him where he got the money and no one cared. Jake had probably been hoarding his tips for years, under his mattress, no doubt.

  We prettied up the best we could, and sashayed into this fine car, feeling like a celebration was definitely in order. With my best friends at my side, I barely thought of Harrison. Except to wish him a long, lonely life, and then like a puff of wind, that thought was gone.

  “Where are we going?” I asked Jake since he seemed to be the boss for the night. “I haven’t made a reservation anywhere.”

  “A place that’s hard to get into at short notice, unless you’re a celebrity or something.”

  “Then how did you manage it?”

  “I’m a known drug dealer. How else?” Jake looked more like a leading actor in a romantic film than a drug dealer. His hair was cut and styled, his features darn near too perfect, and his jeans were pressed, white shirt open at the neck, sleeves rolled up. He was prettier than the four of us.

  I laughed. “Right.” But the girls shot me a look. He was kidding, wasn’t he?

  We pulled up at a place I’d never been to, but had heard of, of course. Casa Leone’s was an upscale Italian restaurant, hidden behind a rock wall and high, dense foliage. It was like something you’d expect on the Italian Riviera, yet it was only a few steps away from the nightlife of South Beach.

  As the girls and I oohed and aahed at the romantic setting, Jake embraced a man who’d come to greet him and called him son. Obviously, Jake was very at home here, and that surprised me. I’d known Jake for ten years and yet I knew so little about him.

  We sat on the terrace and before Jake could order, the waiter brought over a bottle of what looked like very fine wine.

  “The best in the house,” the sommelier said, opening the bottle with a flourish and pouring a sip for Jake. He stood back, white napkin folded over his arm, and smiled expectantly. “Tell me what you think.”

  Jake winked at me. “Give Candy a taste. She’ll let you know.”

  I took a swirl, rolled it around my mouth, let it sit on my tongue, and then swallowed.

  “Oh, yum. It’s divine.”

  The waiter poured a little into all the glasses and when he left, I turned to Jake and whispered, “I’m paying for dinner but I don’t know if I can afford this.”

  He laughed, and rolled the wine around his glass. “Relax. My mother owns the place. It won’t cost a penny.”

  “No way.” My eyes widened in surprise. “Your mother owns Leone’s?”

  “Well, her fourth husband does.” He shrugged. “No need to tell you everything.”

  I punched his arm. “I always thought you had a tough time growing up. That you were neglected, or something.”

  “Maybe I was.”

  “I no longer feel sorry for you.” I tossed my head. “You kept this a secret all these years? What were you doing with me? Slumming?”

  “Slumming? You kidding me?” His knee knocked mine. “I was learning from a master.”

  Lydia had listened to our exchange. “Is your mother here? I would love to meet her.”

  “No, but her husband, Frank, comes by most nights. He likes to oversee everything and welcome his customers personally.”

  “Oh, goodie,” Fran said. “Then we’ll get to meet him.”

  Susie leaned back in the chair, and surveyed the pretty courtyard, taking in everything at once. “How come you didn’t go into the restaurant business?” she asked Jake. “You’d have been great at it. With your charm…good looks…and your way with women…”

  “What? Is there something wrong with being the “hot” bartender at the Candy Bar? Just think. If I’d managed this place, I’d never have met any of you.”

  I hugged him. “I can’t imagine the bar without you. And I never want to.” I touched the rim of my glass to his. “If and when I sold the place, I was going to put a provision in for you. No way was I going to sell you short. Either a guarantee that you’d keep your job, or get a very nice severance.” I grinned. “Now, it doesn’t look like I have to.”

  He chuckled. “Just because my mother married well, doesn’t mean that I’m rolling in dough. I still like working at the bar. Beside you.” He lifted his wineglass and toasted all of us. “To great friendships, and more good times.”

  We all drank to that.

  Soft music flowed through the courtyard, and a bright full moon appeared. It was a beautiful, magical night, and I made a little wish on the stars that everything would work out, and good fortune would smile upon us.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  When I got home late that night, I checked my messages and there were several
from Harrison. I thought about deleting them unread, but being a woman, I couldn’t do that.

  Heck, I wanted to know why he’d left without calling and whether or not I’d ever see him again. A girl should know where she stands, shouldn’t she? Even if it’s with her son’s prospective father-in-law.

  Before I opened the text, I brushed my teeth, flossed, washed and creamed my face, then slipped into a cool nylon nighty covered in hearts. I turned on the table lamp and picked up my phone. Message four, left six hours ago, read, “Candy? Why haven’t you answered your phone? I’ve called and left several messages.”

  Yeah—so what? I was busy wasn’t I, canvassing the neighborhood, fighting crime. I’m not just a pretty face—I’m an ambassador for justice.

  Perhaps I’d text him that. But I needed to read the others.

  Message three—four hours ago. “Okay, I get it. You’re mad at me for leaving and not saying good-bye. That’s because I’m not saying good-bye. Call me.”

  I would—just not yet. I still wanted to know why he’d left in such a damned hurry.

  Text two—“I was called away because someone was murdered, and they want me to be the lead prosecutor. Now are you satisfied?”

  Why in the world would I be satisfied if someone got murdered? I’m just not that kind of girl.

  And the last text was in all-caps, “CALL ME. I’M TOO BUSY TO PLAY GAMES.”

  That was short and sweet. Well, I’d been too busy to call earlier, and now it was too late. I’d put him on my agenda first thing in the morning.

  I turned off my phone, then the light, and closed my eyes. Harrison loomed over me in the dark, his handsome face angry. I could see the frustration building; his firm jaw clenched, a small tick in the side of his cheek, face turning different shades of red.

  I wished I could reach out and touch him, kiss his lips and soothe his worries. But I didn’t have any more answers for him than I had for myself.

  Still, I turned the light back on and texted, “Good night, Harrison, sleep tight.”

  Feeling better, I slid back under the covers and fell into a deep but troubled sleep.

 

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