Maria Geraci

by Bunco Babes Gone Wild (v5)

  “I thought you were in the bathroom. Did you go outside and see Ed smoking?” Frida asked hopefully.

  “Ed wasn’t outside smoking.” She took a deep breath. “He was in the storage closet. With me.”

  No one said anything.

  “What were you and Ed doing in the storage closet?” Frida finally asked.

  Someone put a drink in Georgia’s hand. It was a frozen fruity concoction with some bite. She gratefully took a big swig.

  “It’s called a Bunco Slushie. It’s the signature drink of the night,” supplied Brenda.

  “It’s good,” said Georgia. She took another sip. Everyone was still waiting for her to explain. “I got in a fight with Ed the night of Black Tie Bunco,” she confessed, glancing at Frida to gauge her reaction. “Not a fight, really, but we had words. I wanted him to convince you to take my money so you could save the Bistro.”

  “Save the Bistro from what?” asked one of the Babes.

  Frida sighed. “I was behind in the payments. Bruce Bailey was threatening to foreclose.”

  “That’s terrible!” cried Tina. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “Everyone has enough problems of their own. Plus, I was embarrassed.”

  “Don’t you think I was embarrassed to admit Brett had a relapse?” said Tina. “But if I didn’t tell you guys, I’d go crazy.”

  “Don’t ever keep anything like that from us. Ever again,” Kitty admonished Frida.

  “Okay, you’re right. I should have told you about the foreclosure.” Frida nudged Georgia with a nod. “Go on with the rest of the story.”

  “That’s when Kitty saw us. She came out to tell us that Shea’s video montage was about to start. So I came inside. But I felt terrible. I swear,” Georgia vowed to her sister, “I’m never going to interfere in you and Ed’s business. Ever again.” She took another sip of her slushie. “After that, I needed to be alone. The bathroom was packed, so I found an empty closet. I didn’t want anyone to see me cry.”

  “The women’s bathroom is always packed,” complained Mimi. “When was the last time you saw a line for the men’s bathroom? You’d think they’d build bathrooms in ratios of two to one.”

  “And that’s when Ed walked in on you?” asked Frida.

  “Not exactly.” She paused. “Dave saw me crying, and he followed me in the closet.”

  “That was sweet of him,” said Kitty. “Did he make you feel better?”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Georgia, “He made me feel a lot better. Probably better than I’ve ever felt in my entire life.”

  Frida’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God. You and Dave?”

  Georgia nodded.

  “Now everything makes sense. He’s the reason you haven’t said yes to Spencer.”

  Georgia gulped. “Before I knew what was happening we were doing the horizontal mamba, only it wasn’t exactly horizontal, I was more like—”

  “We don’t need the details,” said Brenda, her eyes wide.

  “Speak for yourself,” said Lorraine. “I like to hear details.”

  “Does Spencer know?” Frida asked.

  “I was hoping he wouldn’t find out. Not like this, anyway.”

  “So did Ed catch you in the actual act?” asked Pilar.

  “No, thank God. We were done, although I wasn’t completely clothed.”

  “No wonder Dave hit Spencer,” Frida said. “I was kind of wondering about that.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Are you in love with him?”

  “With who?

  “With Dave,” said Frida.

  “Of course not. It was . . . just sex.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you, Georgia,” said her sister.

  “Then maybe it’s something in the water here, because it is me. Only I can’t let Ed cover for me any longer. I have to go clear this up with Zeke.”

  “What about Spencer? Won’t he freak out when he finds out?” asked Shea.

  “Probably. But I can’t let an innocent man rot in jail because I’m a slut.”

  “You’re not a slut just because you had sex with Dave. Even though it was in a closet. During a gala event. Surrounded by hundreds of unwitting partygoers,” said Shea. She shrugged innocently. “Sometimes people have sex in strange places.”

  A couple of the Babes snickered.

  “Yeah, you have to do something a lot crazier than that to qualify for slutdom,” said Pilar. “Hey, that’s a new word, isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s not,” said Shea. “I’m pretty sure slutdom is already a word in the Urban Dictionary.”

  “Isn’t there some other way to get Ed off without you confessing?” asked Frida.

  “I don’t see how,” said Georgia. “Not with this new evidence against him. I could kick myself for talking Ed into letting Zeke search the place.”

  “If you go down to police headquarters and tell Zeke the truth, then you’ll probably lose Spencer,” said Pilar.

  “That’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

  “I know Ed’s innocent,” said Frida. “We’ll get him off somehow, but this could really blow it for you with Spencer. You don’t have to do this, Georgia. Obviously Ed thought it was important enough that he cover for you.”

  “I’ll be honest,” said Kitty, “After meeting Spencer, I don’t think he’s your Mr. Right. But if he’s what you want, then we’ll support you. What you told us tonight won’t ever leave this room.”

  The Babes nodded.

  “Thanks, but I really don’t have a choice.” She eyed Frida. “Are you coming with me?”

  “We’re all going with you,” said Shea.

  And that was that.

  Frida’s car led the caravan to the Whispering Bay Police Department. Georgia rode shotgun while the rest of the Babes followed after they’d piled into two minivans with the precision of a military squad. Georgia got the impression they’d done this sort of thing before.

  The police department was a small one-story building that looked like it belonged in Disney World. It was painted peach and had baby blue trim and a front porch.

  “We demand to see Ed Hampton,” Pilar said to the receptionist sitting in the outer office. “I’m his attorney.”

  The receptionist, whose name was Cindy according to her nameplate, looked more excited than startled to see thirteen women mobbing the tiny office. “Y’all are the Bunco Babes, right?”

  “I want to see him too,” said Frida.

  “Mr. Hampton already has someone in with him,” said Cindy.

  “Who?” Frida demanded.

  Cindy shrugged. “I’m not sure, but it’s the guy he used his one phone call on.” She smiled at Pilar. “If you’re his lawyer, then you can go on back.”

  “But I’m his wife,” said Frida. “Can’t I go back there too?”

  Cindy made a face. “Gosh. That would make two visitors, plus his attorney. Sorry, but it would be against policy.”

  Mimi edged her way to Cindy’s desk. “Hi there, Cindy.”

  “Mrs. Grant! I didn’t see you back there.” Cindy’s voice went up an octave. “I knew it! You are the Bunco Babes. I read about y’all in the Whispering Bay Gazette. You guys are practically celebrities!”

  “I’m glad someone thinks so,” muttered Shea.

  “So how about it, Cindy,” Mimi asked. “Can Mrs. Hampton go on back too? I’m sure my husband won’t mind.”

  “I guess I could look the other way. That is . . . I’ve heard it takes years to get on your sub list.”

  “What does our sub list have to do with—” Shea stopped mid-sentence after Pilar elbowed her in the ribs.

  “I think it’s very doable that we could put you on our sub list,” said Pilar. “Probably you could even go straight to the top.”

  Cindy’s eyes bugged out. “Really?” She immediately buzzed the door open. “Go on back. He’s in the first room to the right. But if Rusty 2 asks, don’t tell him it was me who let you in,” she whispered fiercely.

  “Our lips are sealed,” sa
id Pilar. She grabbed Frida’s hand and the two of them rushed through the door before Cindy could change her mind.

  This left the rest of them with nothing to do but pace around the tiny office.

  “Look at this,” Shea said. She ripped a flyer announcing Bettina’s Pre-Demolition Derby off the community bulletin board. “They’re all over town.”

  Lorraine rolled her eyes. “Whispering Bay Beautification Committee, my ass. That’s just code for the Bunco Bunnies.”

  “It’s Bettina’s way of showing us up. That her party can raise just as much money as ours,” complained Tina.

  “They can’t raise fifty thousand dollars chipping away pieces of the senior center. Not for twenty-five bucks a piece. There’s not that much building,” said Mimi.

  “We have Spencer to thank for that,” Shea reminded them. She smiled at Georgia. “I don’t know if Spencer is the right man for you or not, but he’s a hell of a nice guy.”

  Spencer!

  Georgia pulled her cell from her little black purse. She hadn’t heard it ring because it was set to vibrate. She had four voice mails, all from Spencer. She pushed in his speed-dial number.

  “Babycakes, where are you? I’ve been waiting at the Bistro for almost an hour now.”

  “Spencer, I’m so sorry.” If she told Spencer about Ed’s arrest, then he’d come running down to police headquarters and he’d discover the truth about the events at Black Tie Bunco. Spencer knew something had gone on between her and Dave, but to have it confirmed publicly, and then know that Geor gia and Ed had lied to cover it up . . . She didn’t want him to find out like this. But he needed to know. It would soon be public knowledge. She’d have to tell him tonight when she got to the hotel. “The Babes needed a sub for Bunco and I sort of got roped into playing. I forgot all about our dinner,” she said, wincing at how thoughtless that sounded.

  “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right.”

  He was being so damn nice about it. Georgia almost wished he’d be an ass, then she wouldn’t feel so bad.

  “I should be finished here soon. How about I meet you at your hotel? We have a lot to talk about.”

  “Does that mean what I think it does?” he asked hopefully.

  She was doing the same thing she’d accused Spencer of just a few weeks ago. It was time Georgia Meyer shit or got off the pot.

  “We’ll talk about it in person,” she squeaked. So much for making a solid decision.

  “All right,” he said smoothly. “I’ve waited this long, I guess another hour or two won’t hurt. By the way,” he added, “I read that marketing proposal you wanted me to look at. The one you worked up for the Bistro.”

  “And?”

  “It’s brilliant. As usual.”

  “You really think so? You don’t think it sounds like I’m trying to make the Bistro into a Starbucks wannabe?”

  “So what? There’s no harm in emulating number one, is there?”

  Spencer was the owner of a successful company. She should feel reassured that he agreed with her marketing plan. She just wished he’d backed up his agreement with something a little more solid.

  “Babycakes, you still there?”

  “I’m still here.”

  The door buzzed open. Ed and Frida came out first. The Babes all descended on them.

  “Spencer, I have to go. I’ll meet you in a couple of hours.” She snapped her phone shut.

  “Zeke hasn’t officially booked Ed. Not yet,” Frida said, trying to talk over all the shouting.

  Ed smiled, but he looked tired. What was going on? If Zeke hadn’t booked Ed, then that must mean he didn’t have enough evidence. But Georgia still had to give Ed an alibi. She wasn’t leaving police headquarters until she set the record straight.

  Pilar came out next. She was in full-fledged bossy lawyer mode. “Okay, everyone, let’s break it up. I think we ought to leave Ed and Frida alone. After all, he did spend almost ninety minutes in the slammer. I’m sure they’re anxious for a little private time.”

  “Does this mean no more Bunco tonight?” asked Brenda. “I was winning most games. Just in case anyone is still keeping score.”

  “I say we go back to my house, minus Frida of course, and dole out the prizes. Plus, we have a whole lot more slushie to finish up,” said Kitty.

  “Good idea,” said Shea.

  And then the door buzzed open again and out walked Dave.

  31

  “What are you doing here?” asked Kitty. “I thought you were fishing with Steve.”

  Dave glanced around the room and his gaze settled on Georgia for a second, making her heart stop. “Ed called me.”

  “You were Ed’s phone call?” Georgia sputtered.

  The Babes went quiet. By the looks on their faces they were all thinking the same thing she was. If Dave had been Ed’s one phone call it could only mean that Ed had called him to give him an alibi. And since Zeke had let Ed go, Dave must have told Zeke the truth.

  It was a relief to know that her lie was finally out.

  “I need to talk to Zeke. To make a statement,” Georgia told Cindy.

  Dave grabbed her by the elbow. “No, you don’t.” He whisked Georgia outside to the parking lot.

  “What are you doing?” She pulled her elbow from his grasp. “I need to corroborate your story with Zeke, so he’ll know there’s no way Ed stole the money.”

  “Your story and my story aren’t going to jibe.”

  “What did you tell Zeke?” Georgia demanded.

  “Are you engaged?” he asked.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “It’s a simple question. Are you engaged or not?”

  She thought about telling him to go to hell. “No,” she said instead. At least not yet.

  “Good.” He walked her to his truck, which was parked on the side of the building. She’d been so upset when she’d driven up with Frida that she hadn’t noticed it.

  “You were wrong, you know. You said Spencer was never going to propose.” Why she brought that up now, she wasn’t sure.

  “So he’s not as stupid as he looks.” He shoved his hand in his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys. “Want to go for a ride?”

  Georgia turned to see Frida and Ed getting in their car. The Babes were all piling back in their minivans. No one seemed to find it unusual that she’d gone off with Dave. She glanced at her watch. Spencer wouldn’t be expecting her for a while.

  But she shouldn’t get in a car with Dave. She shouldn’t be in any small cramped space with him ever again.

  “Okay.”

  It was only the second time she’d been in his truck. The first time was the night he’d driven her and Frida home from Bunco and Frida had been in the front cab with them. They’d been so crunched that Georgia had had to practically sit on Dave’s lap. But Frida wasn’t with them tonight and there was plenty of room. Georgia sat as far from Dave as possible.

  “So why aren’t our stories going to jibe?”

  He glanced at her. “What are you so mad about?”

  “Me? I’m not mad. And keep your eyes on the road.”

  He grinned and shook his head.

  She fiddled with the hem of her satin sheath. “Okay, so maybe I’m a little mad.”

  “I’m the one who should be mad,” Dave said. “But I’ve forgiven you.”

  Georgia spun around in her seat. “You’ve forgiven me?”

  “I’m generous that way.”

  She laughed incredulously. “I don’t know if you’re crazy, or you just like driving me crazy.”

  “Do I drive you crazy?” he asked quietly. “Because you sure as hell make me crazy.”

  The way he said that last part made her breath hitch.

  “What exactly did you say to Zeke Grant?”

  He shifted gears and turned onto a dirt road near the beach. Georgia didn’t know where they were going. And she didn’t care.

  “I told Zeke
that I saw Ed smoking during the time the money was stolen.”

  “You corroborated his lie? But why? I was going to tell Zeke the truth.”

  “Because I didn’t want to screw things up for you.” He looked at her. “In case you’d gotten together with Spencer.”

  “Oh.” He pulled his truck into the driveway of a small town house. “That was nice of you.”

  “I didn’t do it to be nice. I did it because I wanted you to have a choice.”

  Neither of them said anything for a minute as she absorbed that bit of information.

  “Where are we?” she finally asked.

  “My new place. At least until I find something more permanent.”

  This jolted her into saying, “You’re taking the job with Steve?”

  “I decided you were right. Maybe it’s time I take a risk and put myself out there.”

  “Is that some kind of guy trick? Admitting that I’m right?”

  He smiled. “Want to come inside?”

  “Okay. But just so we can talk. I mean, we can’t do anything else.” She felt stupid adding this last part but he needed to know there were boundaries. Just because they’d had sex once didn’t automatically mean they were going to do it again.

  He unlocked the front door and turned on a light switch. The living room was small. There was a couch and a coffee table and a forty-inch plasma screen TV. It looked like a typical guy place. There were boxes everywhere, full of books and CDs. Georgia noticed a lot of Tom Petty and Steely Dan.

  He kicked the door closed, spun her around, and kissed her. “I think talking is overrated.”

  “I agree,” she squeaked.

  He kissed her again as he unzipped the back of her dress. So much for boundaries . . .

  “Does this place have a bed?” she asked, coming up for air.

  “I hope so,” he murmured, kissing his way down her neck.

  She shimmied out of the black satin sheath dress and let it puddle on the floor. All she had on now was her underwear and bra. Neither of which were too shabby, in her opinion. “You don’t know for sure?”