“Ok, have it your way.”
I laugh at the two of them. Brea is always trying some new fad diet, although she doesn’t need to. She is 5’4”, 130 pounds, with long red hair that cascades down her back in luscious waves, beautiful green eyes, and flawless porcelain skin. She is truly stunning.
“I have no idea why you are always dieting. You are not fat by any means,” I tell her.
Today she is wearing a just-above-the-knee emerald green dress with black heels. Very sophisticated.
“Says you,” Brea replies. “You don’t have to look at this every day.”
“Hello! We work with you every day and therefore we do see you on a daily basis, and I think you look fine,” Sara responds.
“If you are so worried about your weight, why did you buy donuts this morning?” I ask confused.
“I didn’t. Mason did.”
I look around the room. Sara has her back to me, trying to hide her amusement, I’m certain. Brea is smiling at me, waiting on my response.
“Well, that was nice of him,” I say, reaching over to grab a glazed donut from the box.
Sara turns around and looks disappointed. She is the same height as but lighter than Brea, 5’4” and 110 pounds, with her short blond pixie haircut and sparkling blue eyes. She is wearing a white blouse with a grey pencil skirt and gray heels.
“Don’t you want to know why he was here?” Sara deadpans.
“No, not really,” I say.
Although I am dying to know, I can’t let them know I am even a little bit interested or they will be planning my wedding and picking out baby names.
The phone rings, and I clear my throat before answering it.
“Saved by the bell,” I joke. “Hello, R.K. Insurance, Angel Perez speaking, how may I help you?” Hello? Hello? Anyone there?
The day goes by smoothly. We all decide to order salads in for lunch. Sara pulls out some Italian salad dressing from the refrigerator in the back room. Sara and Brea won’t use any other dressing. They swear Adornetto’s Salad Dressing from Zanesville, Ohio, is the best they have ever had. I agree. They order it by the case. After lunch, we work and talk about how they met the loves of their lives.
Brea met Vincent through a mutual friend, just a little over a year ago. They hit it off right away and have been exclusive ever since. They live separately, although they stay together at his place every night. I just met him the other day and he seems really sweet. He is 6 feet tall and 200 lbs, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He has a very muscular build. I guess in his line of work, you would have to be muscular. Construction isn’t for lightweights.
Sara met Donovan on a blind date that Brea and Vincent set them up on. They went to a college football game. The Florida Gators were playing the Florida State Seminoles in Gainesville. Having graduated from the University of Florida, Donovan is a diehard Gators fan. Sara is a Seminoles fan just because she thinks the quarterback is good looking.
On that first date, Donovan showed up sporting a Gator jersey with a Gator ball cap. When Brea knocked on Sara’s door before the date, Sara answered the door wearing a Seminoles jersey with a Seminole Indian painted on her left cheek and she was holding a pair of garnet and gold pom-poms. Sara beamed at her before jumping off the porch and heading towards the car. Brea said she couldn’t stop laughing at the two of them and all the bickering they did throughout the entire game. After the game, they went out for pizza and beer and realized they had a lot of things in common. To this day Donovan swears he’s going to make a Gators fan out of her yet.
Donovan is almost six feet tall and more slender than the other guys. He has sandy blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Donovan and Sara are both very athletic and work out together several times a week, and they occasionally run marathons or half-marathons together on the weekends.
Calling it a night, Sara invites me to go to the gym. I decline. Brea is heading home to get caught up on laundry and some cleaning. They invite me to join them in a cooking class they signed up for featuring Indian cuisine. Sounds like fun — now that’s something I am interested in. They give me the name and number of the restaurant offering the cooking class so I can call and reserve my spot.
“See you guys tomorrow,” I say while locking up.
I stop by the Publix Grocery Store on my way home and then stop at Red Box to rent About Time. Not ready to go home, I make a detour on my way home and stop by the beach. I remove my shoes, lock up my car, and head to the water. The sand is so soft, almost like baby powder, and it’s always cool to the touch. I understand why Siesta Key is rated the #1 beach in the U.S. The beach is packed, even at this time of day. I walk a short distance and let the water lap over my feet. I pick up a few rocks and seashells to add to my sea-treasure collection at home.
After the sun sets over the water, I head home. I wash the rocks and seashells and set them in the hurricane glass near the entryway. I put the groceries away. Looking for something to eat, I decide on a chicken salad sandwich on a croissant, a peach and a water. The knock at the door startles me. I look out the peephole and see Josephine standing there holding a glass pitcher. I open the door with a smile on my face.
“Well, hello, Mrs. Morgan. Please come in.”
“Angel, dear, I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Don’t be silly. Please come in.”
She steps into the house and hands me a pitcher of orange juice.
“Here’s some orange juice, dear. Carl and I made way too much. We picked all the oranges that were ripe and there is no way we can drink all the juice we made.”
“Wow, thank you. I really appreciate it,” I say honestly, taking the pitcher from her hands. “Why did you make so much?”
“I just hate letting all those perfectly good oranges rot. Just because they are free and grow in our backyard is no reason to let them go to waste. I guess next week we should take some over to the food bank. I’m sure they can put them to good use.”
“That is a great idea.”
“Well, dear, I really need to get back. Carl and I are playing Scrabble tonight. If I don’t get over there, he’ll start hiding all the good letters. That man just can’t be trusted.”
She laughs.
“Well, ok. Thank you so much. I’ll return the pitcher when I’m done.”
“There’s no hurry, dear.”
Looking at the fresh fruit basket on the table, she says, “If you ever want any fruit, please help yourself. I just hate seeing all those delicious oranges go to waste.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Morgan. I will do that if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Please call me Josephine, and of course I don’t mind.”
She pats my hand before leaving and tells me to have a wonderful evening. I watch her walk through the front yard until she enters her house and is out of view. Closing the door, I lock both locks, secure the chain and turn on the porch light on. I put the juice in the refrigerator and finish my dinner.
I clean up the kitchen, shower, and settle down to watch a movie.
It’s Wednesday before I know it. The workweek is flying by. Sara has plans after work tonight and Vincent has to work late. Brea seems bummed out about it. Brea and I make plans to have dinner and drinks after work.
“So, what are you doing tonight after work?” Brea asks Sara.
Looking at her fingernails, she says, “I joined a new yoga class this week.”
“Do you ever get tired of exercising?”
“No, not really. It’s very relaxing.”
She bites her fingernails and looks at the floor.
“Where’s the class at?”
“Um, downtown,” Sara says vaguely.
Mmmm … something is off. Sara’s answers are short and abrupt. She’s not making eye contact with Brea. She seems to be hiding something. I make a mental note to ask her if everything is ok when we are alone.
“Since when did exercising become relaxing? If I was going to relax, I would curl up on the coach with
a bag of chips and some Ho Hos,” Brea says, laughing.
We all laugh at Brea’s statement. She really can be quite funny when she wants to be.
Wanting to change the subject, I say, “Hey, I forgot to tell you. I called and got a spot in the cooking class tomorrow night.”
Sara claps her hands together, and Brea runs over and hugs me.
Mission accomplished. Sara’s plans for tonight are forgotten.
“I am so excited you got in,” Brea says eagerly. “We are going to have so much fun.”
We lock up and Sara heads to her yoga class and Brea and I head to the Daiquiri Deck on Siesta Key. We use valet parking because it’s easier. You can never find parking on the island this time of year. The Daiquiri Deck has live entertainment on the patio tonight. A guitarist is playing and singing calypso music.
“Let’s sit over there,” Brea talks over the music, pointing to a corner highball table.
The hostess looks over at the empty table and nods, “That’s fine, follow me.”
We sit and look around. The pub is pretty busy for a Wednesday.
“You have to try their mojitos. They are the best around.”
“Sounds good to me.”
The waitress comes over and we order mojitos and an appetizer of calamari.
We scan the menu when I hear a familiar voice. I peek over my menu to see Mason and Donovan talking to the hostess. The hostess is flirting with both of them and pats Mason gently on his arm. Oh, please! Damn if Mason doesn’t look yummy. He’s wearing board shorts, a worn white tee shirt, and flip-flops. Donovan is in a suit and tie. Removing his jacket and loosening his tie, he nods to the hostess in our direction. I duck behind the menu and pray they don’t see us. I wasn’t planning on seeing Mason until Saturday. Shit, shit, shit!
At that moment Brea lays her menu down and says she‘s going to have the cheeseburger and fries. I don’t look at her. I am still hiding behind the menu and praying that the guys have already walked past us and didn’t see her.
“Hey, what are you guys doing here?” she asks.
Damn, too late!
Looking up from my menu, I try to look surprised.
“Hi,” I say.
I look at Donovan and then at Mason, who is looking right at me and is smiling that beautiful dimple smile of his.
“I had court in Sarasota today and decided to meet Mason for a drink.”
“Mind if we join you?” Mason asks, pulling out a chair next to me.
“What would you do if we said that yes, we mind?”
I laugh at him for sitting down before we answer.
“Join you anyway.”
“Well, in that case, please have a seat.”
He is also laughing.
Donovan sits down next to Brea and rolls his shirt sleeves up.
“Have you ordered yet?” Donovan asks.
“Just drinks and appetizers. But I’m going to order the cheeseburger and fries for dinner,” Brea says.
“Off your diet, I see,” Mason says, leaning forward to get a better view of her.
“Yes, Mason, I fell off that chuck wagon this morning when someone came into the office with donuts. Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome very much,” he says, laughing and sitting back.
I look over at him as he is studying the menu.
“Yes, thank you for the donuts. They were delicious,” I say, still looking at him.
He looks up from his menu, winks at me, and says, “You’re welcome, Angel,” before looking back down to study his menu again.
I could melt when he says my name. It just rolls off his tongue like melted butter. He makes it sound like a pet name or nickname instead of my given name. Shit, Angel, get a grip!
The waitress comes over with our drinks. Brea and I both order the cheeseburger platters and the guys order rum and cokes and the fish and chips.
“I’m surprised to see you two here today,” Mason says.
“Why’s that?” I ask, looking over at him.
“Being a workday, I guess I thought you would still be at the office.”
“We would have been if Sara didn’t have that yoga class today,” Brea states.
Donovan nods and says, “Yoga, yeah, that’s right.” He looks at Mason and smiles.
What is up with these two? Brea didn’t seem to notice, so maybe it’s just my imagination.
“I’ve never been here before, and Brea claims they have the best mojitos around.”
“Well, do they?” Mason asks.
Taking another sip of my drink, I lick my lips while looking at him and say, “They do. Would you like a taste, Handsome?”
I lean in closer and offer my drink to him.
As he reaches out to take the glass from my hand, the waitress shows up with the guys’ drinks and the appetizer. I pull my hand back to make room at the table for the drinks and the calamari. Mason looks over at me, and I shrug my shoulders and smile sweetly while placing the straw to my lips. I swear I think I just heard him groan.
We talk among the four of us, finish off the calamari, and order another round before our food arrives.
I look over at Brea, who has her phone in her hand and is looking at the screen and punching numbers. She is texting Vincent, no doubt.
I look around the bar and notice that women are staring at these two handsome men at our table. Both Donovan and Mason seem oblivious to the stares each of them is getting. Even the waitress about fell over Donovan trying to reach his empty glass.
Our food arrives, and we eat and listen to the music in comfortable silence. I really need to stop flirting with him. I am not in a place in my life to open up to anyone. If I get involved with him, sooner or later he’s going to start asking questions about my family and what brought me to the area. I am just not ready to share that part of my life with anyone. It would be easy if he weren’t so damn good looking. God, I get weak in my knees just looking at him. Looks aren’t everything. Maybe he’ll turn out to be a total ass. That’s it, he’s probably an ass. Let’s hope so.
“How does that sound to you, Angel?”
“What, I’m sorry, what? I didn’t hear you.”
“How about after we go to the shooting range on Saturday we head over to my house for a cookout? Is that something you would be interested in?” Donovan asks.
“Sure, sounds like fun. Should you check with Sara first — maybe she has plans?”
“Actually, it was her idea. I’m surprised she didn’t mention it to you guys yet.”
“She may have had something on her mind,” Mason says, looking over at Donovan.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” Donovan says.
The waitress comes back and clears the table and lays the check next to Mason. I dig into my purse for some money, but when I look up, Mason is already handing the waitress his credit card.
“Here, how much is it?” I ask, handing him a fifty.
Looking at me like I just did cartwheels, he pushes my hands back to me and tells me he already took care of it.
“You don’t have to do that, please take this. I want to help with the bill.”
“No chance, Angel, it’s on me. Anytime you’re with me, it’s on me.”
I hope he can’t see the goose bumps on my arms. I tuck the money back into my purse and thank him. Fat chance of him being an asshole. God, I’m going to be in trouble with this man.
Brea looks at me from her phone and says, “Give it up, there’s no use in fighting. It’s a losing battle. These guys always pay. Just say thank you and get used to it.”
“Thank you, Mason.”
“Anytime, Beauty.”
Mason settles up the bill, Donovan leaves the tip. Standing, Donovan and Mason scoot our chairs out for us and wait with us at the valet. I rode over with Brea, since the office is so close.
We all say our goodbyes with hugs. I feel like I’ve been a part of this group my whole life. Even with their significant others missing, they still hug e
ach other. No jealousy in this group. Nothing but respect. I’m not used to that.
Mason and Donovan stand near the valet until Brea and I pull off.
That night, I shower and curl up in bed with my romance novel. My phone dings that I have a text message.
Mason
Donovan and I watch the girls leave the Daiquiri Deck in silence. Once they are out of sight, I turn to Donovan and thank him for meeting me. We make plans to play racquetball tomorrow evening since the girls have a cooking class after work.
“Get ahold of Vincent,” Donovan says. “I’m sure that after ring shopping today he will need some stress relief.”
“No doubt.”
I drive home, shower, and grab a Scotch and head out to sit on the patio. The condo overlooks the Sarasota Bay and the Unconditional Surrender sculpture. I love this view. The statue damn near glows under the lights, and the reflection of the moon on the bay is truly breathtaking. The main reason I bought this condo is the view. Day or night, it is always beautiful. Unconditional Surrender sculpture was created from a photo of a sailor kissing a nurse in Times Square in 1945, when they announced World War II was over. Standing at 25 feet, it is truly magnificent.
I’m sitting in the chair drinking my Scotch and tapping Angel’s business card against the arm of the chair. The sneaky bastard that I am, I showed up at her work early this morning with donuts. Donuts! Can you fucking believe that? Donuts, of all things! What was I thinking? I have never, ever shown up at the girls’ insurance company before. Like a dog in heat, here I am. I make some lame excuse about needing some business cards to take to the hospital for some coworkers looking to get cheaper rates. Now, I sound like a damn Geico commercial. I waltz my happy ass over to Angel’s desk and take some of her business cards off her desk.
“These will do,” I say.
Having what I came for, I make my escape quickly before Angel walks in.
I think about how she looked sitting at the pub tonight. She was still dressed in her business clothes, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was wearing a light blue above-the-knee skirt, white sleeveless blouse, and black heels. Sitting at the table with her legs crossed revealing just enough of her legs to show off that gorgeous tan. Still tapping the card nervously, I debate whether to text her. I take another drink of my Scotch. If she wanted me to have her number, she would have given it to me; instead, I get it from her business card that I took from her desk. How am I going to explain that?
Starting Over Trilogy Boxset Page 4