Crazy For You

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Crazy For You Page 2

by Sandra Edwards


  Roxanne went upstairs to take a long, hot bubble bath. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, she poured bath oil into the stream of running water. She sat there almost in a trance, watching the tub fill and the bubbles grow. Satisfied with the water level she turned it off, got undressed and stepped in. Sliding down through the bubbles, she began to feel confident that the water would soothe her soul and chase her troubles away.

  Why? Why was this happening now? Especially after all this time. Everything had been going so well too. But now the bottom was about to fall out.

  Why did it always come back to Frank Garrett? Roxanne tried to put him out of her mind, just as she’d tried to do so many times before. But somehow he always managed to keep sneaking back into her thoughts. A long time ago, she thought running away would solve her problems. She thought running away would set her free. Free from Frank. Now she realized she’d been mistaken.

  Her past was about to come back to haunt her. She knew she wasn’t up to facing Frank. She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready for that. In Roxanne’s mind she had done nothing but love Frank. She’d only tried to help him, and in return he’d let her down. Once again, he’d doubted her before giving her the chance to explain. And he’d promised he would never do that again.

  Roxanne wanted desperately to go back. Back to the beginning. Back when things were fine. Back before the hatred. Back when there was only love.

  As the water rocked back and forth, time also rocked back and forth, until Roxanne had no concept of time at all. And once again, she had no idea what was the past and what was the present….

  ***

  Part I

  ***

  Chapter 1

  1981

  Late Spring

  Tennessee

  The grave had settled during the thirteen months since Chuck’s death. A year. Wasn’t that the expected mourning period for a grief-stricken widow? If so, her time was up, but Roxanne didn’t feel any better. Candy had said it was because Roxanne couldn’t let go with all the reminders around her everywhere she went.

  Tears slid down Roxanne’s cheeks as she clawed at the dirt near the headstone and dug a hole, finger deep. Satisfied with the depth, she lifted her gaze back to the marker and laid her hand against the name. Charles Ray Simon.

  “I’m sorry.” She choked out the words between sobs. “I have to go away. Candy says I have to for my own good.” Her hand slid down the marble. “And you always said your sister was one smart cookie.” She tried to laugh, but it turned into a pitiful outcry of pain.

  Roxanne slipped the simple gold band off her left ring finger. The hurt rippled up her chest and poured out in her soft weeping. She dropped her wedding band into the hole and pushed the dirt back in, burying the ring. Her heart splintered a little more, and she swore she felt the last solid piece crumble.

  Roxanne Cantrell Simon was convinced—at the age of nineteen—that she’d never love again.

  For six months, Candy Simon had been campaigning for a change. A new start somewhere else. She wanted it and her best friend turned sister-in-law needed it. And it wasn’t like Roxanne didn’t have the money—thanks to an insurance policy and the wrongful death lawsuit.

  Finally Roxanne relented, agreeing to set out for parts unknown.

  It must have been fate that led Roxanne and Candy to Tampa. No other plausible explanation existed for them ending up there. When they left Tennessee they had no definite destination in mind, and what made Roxanne take the freeway south rather than some other direction is anybody’s guess.

  A few days later, Roxanne and Candy found themselves in Tampa, Florida, at the Ramada Inn off 275’s Busch Boulevard exit. They’d stopped to see what Tampa had to offer.

  It was from the desk clerk at the Ramada Inn that they discovered The Other Place—which turned out to be a trendy, hard-rocking club where Candy felt right at home. The jam-packed party atmosphere overwhelmed Roxanne and electrified her all at the same time.

  A large bar just inside the door off to the right offered highly sought-after stools for the club’s many patrons. Directly to the left, a couple of steps led up to tables and the deejay’s booth. A path, straight down the middle and well past the big bar, led to steps descending to the dance floor and the stage off to the left. Almost hidden, especially from the front door, another smaller bar off to the right could easily seat about twenty people.

  Roxanne found comfort sitting at the club’s main bar, but on the end near the door. Candy, however, preferred to spend her time out on the dance floor. Every so often she’d appear at Roxanne’s side long enough to sip her drink, then the music would beckon her back onto the dance floor.

  Several men had asked Roxanne to dance, but she turned them all down briskly. Getting up there on that dance floor was the last thing she intended to do. Roxanne preferred to sit back and watch the goings-on of the bar’s other patrons.

  She scanned the crowd. About halfway down on the left side of the bar he caught her eye. His tall, willowy frame towered above the others. His jet-black hair, full of body, cascaded just past his shoulders. Even though she was too far away to identify the color of his eyes, something about them reached across the bar and captivated her.

  Realizing he’d been watching her stare at him, her bashfulness took over and she looked away. She wondered where Candy was, but that didn’t last long. Roxanne’s desire to sneak another peek at the handsome man was too strong.

  This is crazy! What could a man like that possibly see in me?

  She couldn’t help herself and cut her eyes back toward him…but he was gone.

  Frank hadn’t been expecting much when he decided to hit The Other Place on this rare night off when the band wasn’t playing. He wasn’t really looking—he knew half a dozen girls he could call up right now and they’d drop whatever or whoever they were doing and run down to the bar to meet him. But they just wanted to be seen out on the town with a musician, and he wasn’t in the mood to be anyone’s trophy tonight.

  Then he saw her. And she’d been watching him. He’d moved to the other side of the bar on purpose, just to see if she’d look for him. She did, and it pleased him.

  There was something about her. Something distinctively different from any of the other girls he’d ever known. An air of genuine innocence permeated around this girl whose beauty mesmerized him. Her light chestnut hair hung halfway down her back, complementing a smile that had a way of luring him in. She was a classic beauty, but he didn’t think she knew it. She’d been passively watching the goings-on around her, but now she was actively searching for someone in particular. Him.

  A girl—a pretty blonde, but not Frank’s type—danced her way back to Miss You’re-mine-tonight and grabbed her drink. Frank stepped up to the bar and ordered another beer.

  Candy leaned against the bar and sucked down her drink. When she came up for air, she asked Roxanne, “What’s up? Seen anything you like?”

  At first, Roxanne wanted to tell Candy about him, but her better judgment told her to keep quiet. “No.”

  “Get me another drink, would you?” Candy asked as another dance tune filled the air. She ran off, grabbing some guy’s hand on her way to the dance floor.

  Roxanne was glad she hadn’t confided in Candy. Candy would have embarrassed her. She would’ve gone and gotten the guy and brought him back to Roxanne’s side. That could’ve turned into an humiliating situation, especially if he didn’t want to be gotten.

  “Your friend seems to constantly abandon you.” The voice came from behind her, bringing Roxanne out of her thoughts of impending doom.

  He was standing behind her. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did. An unfamiliar excitement spread through her. Unable to resist, she glanced over her shoulder and got lost in his piercing blue eyes. Her instincts told her to look away, but she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried to break the spell, she couldn’t do it.

  “Let me guess.” He winked at her. “Your friend likes to dance but yo
u don’t?”

  “Nah, not really.”

  “I hear you.” He took a drink of his beer. “I hate dancing.”

  She giggled shyly and looked away.

  “I’m Frank,” he said, and instantly a strange look crossed her face. He wasn’t expecting that. “What’s the matter? You don’t like my name?” he asked, feigning injury.

  “No, it’s not that.” She shook her head. “Frank is my father’s name.”

  “Well, there you go.” He glanced at the empty barstool at her side. “Mind if I sit down?”

  “Be my guest.” Her heart fluttered so wildly she thought it might fly out of her chest. “I’m Roxanne.” She managed to introduce herself, which wasn’t easy since the stranger sitting beside her was totally enamoring.

  “Roxanne…” he repeated her name and paused, as if pondering it. “Can I call you Roxie?” He flashed her an irresistible smile and it was all over.

  “Suit yourself,” she said. “So long as I can call you Frankie.”

  He laughed. “Deal.” She could call him whatever she wanted, if it got him further entwined in her good graces. “How old are you?” he asked, more for chit-chat’s sake than anything else.

  “Nineteen.”

  “Where are you from?” Millions of questions filled his head. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about her.

  “Tennessee.”

  “How long you been living here?”

  She shook her head. “We don’t live here.” She played with her straw, and regret stabbed at his heart. She must have sensed it because she quickly offered, “But…if my sister and I decide we like it here...we just might stay.”

  That thought mended his wound. If there was the slightest chance she’d hang around for a while, he’d convince her it was the thing to do. “Is there anything I can do to persuade you to stay?” he said, pouring on the charm.

  “What are you...writing a book?” Her sharp tone snapped the words at him. The smirk accompanying her jab lasted for all of a second or two before it melted from her face. “I’m sorry…that was rude.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You’ve got spunk…I like that.”

  She gave him one of those looks that said—no I don’t. Did that mean Frank was affecting her in a way that no one ever had? He hoped so.

  He bought her a drink, another first for Frank, and they talked the night away. Normally, he would’ve used his status as the lead singer and co-founder of one of the area’s most admired bar bands to his advantage, but this time he didn’t think it would get him far. Instead of trying to charm her with the promise of music, he conceded the stage. Besides, getting to know her was a lot more interesting than bragging about himself. Before Frank knew it, last call had come on like a whirlwind.

  “Listen—” He didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see her again. “—If I give you my phone number, would you promise to call me...even if it’s only to say goodbye?”

  “Sure.”

  Frank wrote his number on a napkin and Roxanne stuck it inside her purse without looking at it.

  “Can I see you and your sister to your car?” he offered because it seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do.

  “No...but you can walk us to my van.” She chuckled, as if she’d realized the humor in her remark.

  “Cute.” Frank had no choice but to laugh. “I owe you,” he promised.

  Candy couldn’t imagine seeing Roxanne in such a frisky mood. This wasn’t her nature at all. But Roxanne was laughing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Roxanne laugh. At that moment, Candy decided she liked Frank Garrett.

  The three of them walked through the parking lot and Frank decided to see if he could get Candy on his side. “Candy, I was telling Roxie that if you girls decide to stick around for awhile, maybe you can come see my band play sometime.”

  “That’d be fun,” Candy said without much interest, then got in the van.

  Frank turned to Roxanne. “Well …” He slid his hands inside his pockets and smiled. “I guess I’d better let you go.” Was he nuts? It must be so. Why was he not trying to close the deal tonight? His instincts were telling him to wait. It was a move he hoped he didn’t end up regretting.

  “It was nice meeting you,” Roxanne said.

  “May I kiss your cheek?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Frank’s lips brushed against her face, swathing her in chills fueled by a craving she’d never experienced—not to this extent. She shuddered, unsure about what to do with the unfamiliar desires.

  “Good night.” He looked like he was pushing himself to leave. Finally, when he did turn to walk away, Roxanne felt like a part of her was leaving with him.

  “Night…” Her voice trailed off as she watched him go. Granted, Chuck was the only man who’d ever kissed her—before tonight—but she couldn’t remember a single one of his kisses ever leaving her feeling so indefensible.

  “Hey, Rocky…” Candy called to her. “He’s gone. You can get in the van now.”

  Roxanne hesitated, trying to bury the emotion she was sure had found its way to her face. She couldn’t let Candy—Chuck’s sister—see what she was feeling. She climbed into the van on the passenger’s side and avoided looking at Candy.

  “What’s wrong?” Candy asked.

  “Nothing.” Roxanne went for casual, but feared she missed.

  “I thought you liked him?”

  “I do.” Finally, she looked at Candy. “But maybe I should just forget the whole thing.”

  “Why?” Candy gave her a scrutinizing glance. “You like him. He definitely likes you. So what’s the problem?”

  “Well…” Roxanne knew it was a bad idea but she said it anyway, “I guess I feel guilty.”

  “Guilty?” Candy said, confused. “For what?”

  “For feeling the way I do.”

  Candy’s eyes lit up like a lightbulb had turned on inside her head. “You’ve got the hots for Frank!” She pointed an accusatory finger at Roxanne.

  “Is that bad?”

  “No...” Candy shook her head. “Listen, you shouldn’t feel guilty because you want Frank. Chuck wouldn’t want you to feel guilty. My brother would want you to do whatever it takes to make yourself happy.”

  Roxanne knew Candy was right about that. Chuck wouldn’t want either of them to stop living just because he had. She felt a rush of confidence as Candy gave her a quick nod, then Roxanne remembered what she’d said about Frank liking her. “Do you really think he likes me?” she asked. “Or do you think he just wants a piece?”

  “Well…he probably wants a piece,” Candy said. “But I don’t think that’s all he wants.”

  “Why me?”

  “Look, don’t sell yourself short.” Candy started the van and shifted into gear. “I believe that Frank genuinely likes you.”

  And everybody knew, Candy was a good judge of character.

  Sunning by the motel’s pool, Candy looked down at herself. In a matter of days she’d acquired a nice tan. There was something to be said for Florida. Another month and she’d be a gorgeous bronze color—something that Kathy Pritchard, back home, would kill for.

  She looked at Roxanne, wondering if she’d been thinking about Frank at all. Candy sure had. She hadn’t forgotten how he’d made Roxanne laugh. He needed to do that again, but Roxanne had to call him before that could happen. Apparently, Candy was going to have to light that fire.

  “Rocky—” She put forth extra effort to sound casual. “—do you like it here?”

  “Sure,” Roxanne said, a bit indifferently.

  “Well let’s stay here then.”

  Roxanne’s head popped up. She shaded her eyes and looked at Candy. “You really want to?”

  “Sure.” Candy didn’t want to leave Tampa without Roxanne exploring the possibility of what might happen with Frank. If he could help her mend her heart, even a little bit, then it would be worth it. “And you could call your friend, Frank. Maybe he’s
got a really cute friend in that band of his who’s looking for a gorgeous petite blonde.”

  Candy’s contagious laughter filled the air, infecting Roxanne. Yep, Candy was pretty much convinced. Frank Garrett was just the medicine Roxanne needed.

  ***

  Chapter 2

  Roxanne and Candy scoured Tampa in search of somewhere to live. They found the perfect place in Temple Terrace. The price took about half of Roxanne’s money, but it was a sound investment.

  They decorated the two-story condo in a tropical atmosphere, accentuating it with lots of plants and the colors of sandy beaches, sunrises, sunsets, and the ocean. In the spacious open floor plan, the living room sank cozily down and flowed into a screened-in terrace. Off to the right, the dining room and kitchen blended in with the sweeping atmosphere. Candy’s bedroom suite was down a hallway just behind the kitchen. A bathroom and another small bedroom were on the opposite side of the hall.

 

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