“Jimmy is a man.” Greenlee put her phone on the table. “A very hot one. All the women on the island are after him, but he’s into April.”
“My dad says he’s shady.” Katy blew into her straw making bubbles in her root beer. The other girls had gotten to the diner before April and had already gotten their drinks. Where was the waitress?
“That’s because your dad is a cop,” Nina said. “He thinks everyone is shady. I suppose Jimmy Panama is kinda cute. For an old guy.”
The girls giggled and April looked for the waitress again. When she came around the corner, April waved to her.
“What’ll you have, kid?” The senior citizen had a voice like sandpaper and the demeanor to match. Edith was a staple at the Pelican Cove Diner. As a little girl, April remembered watching the tiny woman bicker with the tall, thin cook through the pass-through to the kitchen. April’s mother had explained that the cook was Edith’s husband. He died of a sudden heart attack when April was in tenth grade. She smiled at the waitress and didn’t take offense when the old woman’s expression didn’t change. “I’ll have fries and a Diet Coke, please.”
“The rest of you better make up your minds what you want or you’re out of here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Greenlee saluted her and laughed when she walked away.
“Hi, April.” The soft, male voice came from April’s right and she looked up in surprise. The butterflies that always stirred in her belly whenever she saw Damian Rios fluttered their wings.
“Hi,” April said, fighting a giddy grin.
“How’d you do on the math test?”
“Aced it. How about you?”
“That last section was brutal, but I think I did okay.”
“I’m sure you did better than okay. You’re the smartest kid in class.”
They stared at each other, smiling, and she started to lose herself in his liquid brown eyes until his gaze flickered past her to Greenlee. His smile faded.
She was glaring at him, and Katy and Nina were looking at April as if she’d dyed her hair green and tattooed an eyeball on her forehead.
Damian shrugged. “Well, see you around.”
“See you.” He walked to the other end of the diner and took a seat in a booth across from his mom and little sister. April spun on Greenlee. “What did you do that for?”
She was texting again and didn’t look up from her phone. “He’s a math nerd.”
“He’s an honor student, and we’re in the same class. I guess that makes me a math nerd, too.”
“Aw, honey.” Greenlee stopped texting for a second and touched April’s hair. “You’re too pretty to be a math nerd.”
“Damian Rios’ father is your dad’s gardener,” Katy said and April hated the way the girl’s nose scrunched up in distaste. “An heiress dating the help’s kid? That would be totally weird.”
“Totally,” Nina, the parrot, agreed.
“Mr. Rios is a nice man, and he’s not just a gardener, he owns the company.”
“We’re all set,” Greenlee said, sliding her phone into her purse.
“Set for what?” April looked up as Edith arrived with her fries and Diet Coke.
“For the homecoming dance. It’s a week from Friday. I’ve secured us dates.” Greenlee leaned forward to brag to the other girls. “They’re seniors at the University of Miami.”
“Ooh, college boys!” Katy said, “Now that’s more like it.”
“Do you three know what you want to order?” Edith interrupted. “I’ve already refilled your drinks twice. You know the rules. Order something to eat or lose your seat.”
“How darling,” Greenlee muttered, “the hag rhymes.”
“What was that?” Edith’s rheumy-eyed gaze narrowed on the girl.
“She said she has fries.” Nina gestured to April’s plate. “That counts as food, doesn’t it? I don’t have any money.”
“She can stay. The rest of you have to go.”
“Fine,” Greenlee said, taking a fifty-dollar bill from her purse and slapping it on the table. “Burgers all around. I’m buying. Now go do your job and fill some ketchup bottles or something.”
April winced and slid down in the booth a little.
Edith took the untouched menus from the edge of the table as well as Greenlee’s fifty. “I’m keeping the change,” she said and hobbled away.
Greenlee could be so cruel sometimes. The old woman worked hard, and she didn’t deserve to be treated like dirt. But April couldn’t blame her friend for the way she was. Greenlee’s parents were never around to correct her bad behavior. She had everything a girl could ever want and more, everything except a family. April felt sorry for Greenlee, but that didn’t stop her from speaking up when her friend was particularly mean, even though whatever April said to Greenlee usually bounced off her hard shell like a rubber ball.
April would have said something now, but the two biggest mouths in the school were sitting across from them. Instead, she picked up a French fry she had no intention of eating and played with it.
The conversation moved on to everyday high school gossip for a while and April half-listened while she stole secret glances at Damian across the restaurant.
“Is it true you knocked out a guy with a gun to save some woman?” Katy asked, pulling April away from her daydream.
She gagged on the Diet Coke she’d just taken a sip of and looked at Greenlee. “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone!”
Greenlee was studying her reflection in her compact, fussing with the edgy bangs of her forward layered haircut. “I just told Katy and Nina. They won’t tell anyone.”
Yeah, right. Katy had probably texted half the school already.
“You’re like a hero or something,” Nina said.
“Who was the woman? Anyone we know?”
Edith arrived with the burgers, saving April from having to answer Katy’s question.
“Her name is Sophie Davie-Stone,” Greenlee explained. “Some Latin gang members tried to kidnap her.”
Edith, who was reaching across the table to set a plate of food down, froze and stared at Greenlee.
The girl frowned. “What are you looking at?”
Edith shook her head slightly and continued distributing the food.
“Was she the prostitute my dad arrested?” The excitement in Katy’s voice grated on April’s nerves. The girl was trying to wheedle the details out of her so she could over-exaggerate them later when she recounted the story to her entourage.
April shoved away her untouched plate of fries. “It was a mistake. Unless prostitutes wear designer clothes and have posh English accents now? I liked her, and I don’t think we should talk about her like that.”
“I swear I won’t tell anyone,” Katy insisted. “Don’t you trust me?”
Was she serious?
“What did Jimmy Panama do with the guy you knocked out?” Nina asked.
When April refused to say more, Greenlee took over the story.
Edith bent to whisper in April’s ear. “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”
Greenlee stopped mid-sentence. “Can’t you see we’re having a private conversation here?”
“It’s okay.” April touched her friend’s arm. “I’ll be right back.”
She followed Edith out the front door and around the side of the building out of sight of the windows.
“What’s up, Edith?”
The old woman barely came to April’s chin. She took in April’s outfit, a snug white tank top and purple short-shorts. “You really should wear more clothes. Boys will see you as a sex object and nothing else.”
Heat flushed April’s face. She crossed her arms. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“No. That woman you met yesterday, where is she now?”
“I dunno. She went to jail last night because of a misunderstanding, but the charges were dropped this morning. I suppose she’s with Jimmy Panama. Why?”
“You said some men tried to
kidnap her. Was she hurt?”
“No. She was a little freaked out, but she seemed okay. What’s going on, Edith?”
The old woman looked away, distracted by her thoughts.
“Is everything okay?”
“Huh? Yeah. Just fine. Thanks, girlie.” Edith started to limp away, but she stopped and turned back. “April?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“That Greenlee girl is trouble. I’d find some new friends if I were you.”
April fidgeted and hugged herself a little tighter.
The old woman’s voice softened a fraction. “I’m just saying what your momma would have said if she were alive.”
April looked at the ground and nodded.
Edith started to turn away.
“Wait.” April stopped her. “Why are you so interested in Sophie?”
A twinkle came into the old woman’s pale blue eyes. “She’s my granddaughter.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A little bell chimed over the door when Sophie entered The Ever After Book Shoppe. A refreshing blast of cool air swept over her as the cozy scent of ink and paper filled her nose.
Her face still burned. And not because of Jimmy’s shameless declaration that he didn’t regret kissing her. It burned because she realized she did not regret it either. How could any woman regret a kiss that hot? She covered her cheeks and muttered “Shit.”
“Are you okay?”
She looked around, searching for the source of the voice. Two bookshelves ran the length of the deep but narrow shop creating three aisles, all lined floor to ceiling with books. Not an inch of space was spared.
“Over here.”
Sophie found the girl nestled in the alcove of the bay window. The young teenager sat curled on a bench seat with a book in her lap.
“Is it always so hot in Key West?” Sophie fanned herself with her hand. “It feels like Athens in July out there.”
The girl tucked a long strand of silky, brown hair behind her ear before turning a page in her book. She didn’t look up. “Is that just an expression or have you been there? To Athens?”
“My family spent a holiday in Greece when I was thirteen. My stepfather insisted we visit the Acropolis at the most stifling time of day to beat the crowds. I stood not two feet from the Parthenon and I could think of anything else but getting back to our climate-controlled villa and my Greek mythology books. What are you reading?”
“The Lost Treasure of Alejandro by T. J. Webb. It’s a mystery novel. Have you read it?”
“No. I prefer non-fiction, but I do enjoy a good Agatha Christie novel now and again.”
In typical teenager fashion, the girl rolled her eyes.
Sophie bit back a smile and said, “I’m looking for the owner of the shop.”
“My mom will be back in a minute. She went across the street for—”
The door opened and the little bell chimed. A short woman with long, curly, ginger hair entered the shop holding a venti-sized cup of coffee. “I’m not sure what I can do,” she was saying to Jimmy who was right behind her.
“Just put her up for the night until I can figure something out.”
The woman stopped when she saw Sophie and smiled. “Hey there! You must be Jimmy’s friend.” Her brassy Southern accent was different from Jimmy Panama’s lazy drawl. “I’m Molly MacBain.”
Sophie accepted her enthusiastic handshake. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Sophie.”
“What a darling dress and, oh my God, those shoes are to-die-for! Cheyenne, come and look at Miss Sophie’s shoes. My daughter knows what a nut I am for designer heels. I swear, there’s nothing worse than having the taste for filet mignon on a Big Mac budget.”
“We should get away from the windows in case those clowns come back this way,” Jimmy suggested.
Cheyenne stared at Jimmy with open curiosity. He winked at the girl and she flushed, flashing him a dimpled grin.
“Of course!” Molly said. “Y’all come on back.” She led the way down the center aisle to the checkout counter at the back of the store. The open doorway beyond the counter appeared to lead to an office or storage area.
“Do you have a rear exit?” Jimmy asked.
“Sure.”
He moved past them to stick his head through the open doorway. “Does the exit dump into an alley or a lot?”
“A small lot. My car is parked out back.”
“Well? Do you think you can put the Duchess up for the night?”
Molly frowned. “The Duchess?”
“He means me,” Sophie said. “And it isn’t necessary. What I truly require is transportation to the British Consulate in Miami. Is there bus service to the mainland?”
“Oh, you don’t need to take the bus. I can drive you.”
Jimmy came back into the room shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous. We’re not sure what we’re dealing with yet. I’m working on another way to get you off the island, but I need a little more time.”
“How much time?” Sophie said.
“Should be good to go by tomorrow morning. You just need to lie low for the night.” He looked at Molly. “What do you say?”
“Are you going to be staying with us too, Mr. Panama?” Cheyenne’s question drew everyone’s gaze to her. Tall and lanky, the girl towered over her petite mother. Their hair and coloring might be different, but they had the same blue eyes, lightly freckled nose, and dimpled smile.
“I have some things I need to take care of,” Jimmy said to her.
“I’m sure my mom would feel safer if you were sleeping on our couch. My mom is single.”
“My relationship status is nobody’s business, young lady, and I haven’t agreed to let anyone stay with us.”
“Name your price, MacBain. What’ll it be?”
When she hesitated, Cheyenne nudged her mum’s elbow. When she still didn’t respond, the girl made a noise of disgust and said, “A date with my mom.”
Molly’s eyes widened and blotches of color stained her cheeks. “Cheyenne Dallas MacBain, mind your tongue! I do not want a date with this man! No offense.”
Jimmy’s quick grin suggested he was unfazed by the set down.
“Jeez, Ma, you’re gonna be single forever!”
“Cheyenne!”
The teenager clamped her mouth shut and crossed her arms, brooding.
“What do you want then?” Jimmy asked Molly.
“How about that job I came to see you about a couple of months ago. Singing in your bar two nights a week.”
“I told you, Dixie’s doesn’t have live music.”
“The place has the perfect acoustics and there’s already a small stage set up in the corner.”
“I told you before, go talk to Kenny Fedder over at Sloppy Joes. He’s got a lot of connections. I can put in a good word for you.”
Molly’s red curls bounced as she shook her head. “I did talk to him, and he gave me some BS lecture about having to pay my dues as a street musician first because I’m new in town. I think spending thirteen years on the road has more than earned me the right to sing indoors.”
“I’m sorry about that, short-stuff, but it’s no deal.”
“That’s too bad. Good luck, Sophie. I wish I could help.” Molly walked around the counter and sat on a stool. She took a sip of coffee and smiled benignly at Jimmy.
He cursed beneath his breath. “All right. A two-month contract. Wednesdays and Thursdays. Seven to eight. Fifty bucks a gig.”
Molly placed her coffee cup on the counter. “Six months. Thursdays and Saturdays. Eight to ten. One-twenty-five a gig and not a penny less.”
“Six months? I thought two was more than generous.”
“Four months then, starting the first week of November. Take it or leave it.”
“Can you sing well, Molly?” Sophie asked, interrupting the negotiations. At Jimmy’s questioning look, she shrugged. “What? It’s a legitimate question.”
Color spread up Cheyenne’s neck like wildfire and
she stomped her foot. “Of course my momma can sing. Last year, she was the opening act for Carrie Underwood and Luke Bryan. Heck, she even sang at the same state fair as her idol, Anders Ostergaard.”
“That’s impressive,” Sophie admitted.
“What do you know about country music?” the girl scoffed. “You’re British.”
“Contrary to what you may believe, there’s a rather strong following of American country music in the UK.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“That’s enough, Cheyenne,” Molly said. “You’ll have to forgive my daughter. She’s fourteen.”
“It’s quite all right.”
“Say you’re sorry for being so rude to this nice lady.”
“I’d rather have to wear my retainer until I’m fifty.”
Molly flushed again and looked at Sophie apologetically. “They call it the terrible teens, but ‘terrible’ sometimes seems like too mild a word for it.” She laughed. “I’d send her straight to her room, but she wouldn’t consider that a punishment. Go on over to The Pelican Cove Diner and make some friends, young lady.”
“But Mom…”
“Go.”
The girl spun away in a huff and stomped off.
“And I want proof,” Molly called after her. “You better have at least one new friend request on Facebook tonight!”
The little bell chimed as Cheyenne shoved the door open.
The stressed expression on Molly’s face lingered, and Sophie decided it couldn’t be easy being a single parent to a teenager.
“I can’t wait for the day the moody beast that’s invaded my daughter’s body vanishes and my sweet, considerate, darling child comes home.” Molly sighed heavily and forced a smile. “To answer your question, I’ve been singing professionally since I was nineteen. I only recently acquired the bookstore. Do we have a deal or not?”
“You’re killing me, MacBain.” He looked at Sophie. “What do you think, Duchess?” When she nodded, he said, “All right, then. It’s a deal.”
It was only a short ride to Molly’s place. The two-story rental complex was located in New Town. “New” being a relative term as most of the homes on the eastern side of the island were built in the 50s and 60s. Jimmy’s phone buzzed in his thigh pocket as he followed the women up the metal staircase to the entrance of the two-bedroom, two-bath apartment.
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