by Maria Geraci
It must be the heat.
She slid out of bed and put on a pair of gym shorts and Steve’s Ron Jon T-shirt. Maybe a run would get her mind off her raging hormones.
An hour and a half later, she tossed the sweaty T-shirt into her laundry basket. Wearing a T-shirt that reminded her of Steve hadn’t been the smartest move if she wanted to get her mind off sex.
She showered again and dressed for her nine a.m. meeting with Ted Ferguson and Earl Handy. In between eating the ice cream, her erotic dream, and her five-mile run, she had finished going over the material Ted had sent over. His vision for the condos was exactly as promised. The renderings showed a series of two- and three-story buildings spaced far enough apart to allow for lots of landscaping. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride. Of all the Realtors he could have chosen, Ted picked her. Professionally speaking, this could be the most important day of her life.
She decided on a sleeveless light pink cotton shift, her pearls, and her brown sling-back mules. It was too hot to blow-dry and straighten her hair, so she let it air-dry and twisted the brown curls into a knot at the nape of her neck. She looked like a head shot for a box of Betty Crocker yellow cake mix. But it would work. There would be no four-inch stilettos at this meeting. At the last second, she added her grandmother’s flamingo pin to the outfit—for good luck—then slipped her house key under the doormat so the air-conditioning people could get in. If all went according to plan, she’d be coming home to a cold house. Maybe tonight she could actually get some sleep.
She made a quick stop at the Bistro by the Beach. It was an eclectic little place that served just about any kind of coffee you could dream of. They also made the best spinach-and-onion bagels on the Gulf coast. Not coincidentally, the Bistro was owned by one of the Babes, Frida Hampton. She and her husband, Ed, lived above the cafe in a two-bedroom apartment. Ed was a struggling artist who moonlighted as a barista for the breakfast and lunch crowd. With the exception of the napkins, no paper products were used. The place was environmentally correct in just about every way.
Frida and Ed were busy serving up coffee behind the counter. Kitty ordered her usual grande cafe latte, no foam, one Splenda, along with an assortment of muffins. Not that she was planning on eating any of them herself. It was strictly for the clients. In business, little touches like that made a big difference.
A light sheen of perspiration shone above the V of Frida’s white T-shirt. She expertly plucked up a muffin with a set of tongs and stuffed it into a paper bag. The motion revealed the small dice tattoo on the inside of Frida’s wrist. Frida’s tattoo had become a sort of joke among the Babes. They had all vowed to get a similar one for the twentieth anniversary of the group. Not that anyone took it seriously. Kitty had never considered herself a tattoo kind of girl, and the fad did seem to be going out of vogue, but still, some days she wondered if it wouldn’t be fun to get a tiny one. Somewhere that no one would ever see it, of course.
She spotted Viola and a few of the Gray Flamingos sitting at a table overlooking the water. They looked like they were up to something serious. Probably another petition in the works. Kitty caught Viola’s attention and waved to her. Viola smiled and waved back.
“Business looks good,” Kitty said, gazing around the crowded tables.
“It’s a holiday week,” Frida said, filling the bag to the brim. “There’s an art show in Destin this weekend. I’m hoping we get some business from that too.”
Kitty hesitated a moment before saying anything. But what could it hurt to hint good times were just around the corner? She leaned into the counter and lowered her voice. “Keep this to yourself for now, but I happen to know there’s a big deal in the works that could bring some of that tourist money right here to Whispering Bay.”
Frida placed the palm of her hand on her lower back and stretched out her upper body. “What kind of deal?” she asked, her blue eyes narrowed.
“I can’t say just yet—not until it’s firmed up—but it’s the kind of deal that could turn this place into a gold mine.”
Frida made a face. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
The tiny remark stung, but Kitty did her best to hide her irritation. It was only natural Frida would be skeptical. She would be too if someone had thrown out that bit of cryptic information at her.
“You’re on for Bunco at Shea’s this week. Right?” Kitty asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Frida said.
Kitty smiled. Pilar’s prediction of gloom and doom about this week’s Bunco wasn’t going to come true. So far, everyone Kitty had talked to was going to be there. Except Mimi and Lorraine, but they had already known that.
She was on her way out the door when she ran into Pilar’s parents. Isabel grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. Kitty had to quickly maneuver the muffin bag and her latte to keep from dropping them. Isabel always smelled like Estée Lauder mingled with a slight hint of talcum powder and hair spray. There was no better smell in the world than Isabel Diaz.
“Why haven’t you come to see me?” Isabel demanded in her slightly accented English. “It’s been weeks since you’ve been in my house.”
“Only two,” Kitty said. “And we just saw each other at Pilar’s yesterday.”
“Two weeks is too long,” Isabel replied. “And yesterday doesn’t count. We were surrounded by people and we didn’t get a chance to visit properly.”
“Maybe if you make me some ropa vieja, I’ll come visit,” Kitty teased.
Isabel’s dark eyes brightened. “If that’s what it will take, then I’ll make some right away.”
Antonio shook his head. “She’ll make it for you, but not for me.” He kissed Kitty on the cheek. His thick mustache tickled her skin. “Isabel is right, two weeks is too long.”
“I don’t make ropa vieja for you because you’re on a diet,” Isabel said to her husband. “Antonio has been diagnosed with borderline diabetes,” she told Kitty. “What can I do? He wants to eat rice three times a day.”
Kitty wagged her finger at him. “What are you doing here at the Bistro, then?” She jokingly looked him over for hidden pastries.
Antonio held up a cup of coffee and an English muffin. “Low fat, low sugar, and low taste,” he grumbled.
She eyed his red polo shirt and plaid Bermuda shorts. “Aren’t you going into work?” Pilar’s father was one of the two dentists practicing in Whispering Bay.
“We’re on vacation,” he said.
“That’s wonderful,” Kitty said, “where are you going?”
“To visit the children, of course,” Isabel said. “We’ll start with Silvia in Tampa, then make our way down to Antonio Jr. in Miami, then come back up and visit Carlos in Orlando.”
Antonio let out a deep sigh. “Why couldn’t they all stay here, like Pilar?”
“Who’s going to take care of your patients?” Kitty asked.
“Dr. Walker is going to work in any emergencies,” he said, referring to Whispering Bay’s other dentist. “The rest will have to wait till I get back.”
It was Isabel’s turn to sigh. “Antonio needs to retire, but he refuses until he finds someone to buy the practice.”
“No one wants to move here,” Antonio said, shrugging. “I guess Whispering Bay isn’t the most exciting place for a young dentist fresh out of school.”
Kitty took a sip of her cafe latte to try to hide the smug smile she felt coming on. She’d already told Shea and Pilar the good news, and she’d just hinted prettily heavily to Frida. Isabel and Antonio were like her second parents. There couldn’t be any harm in telling them too. “All that could change pretty soon. I’ve heard a rumor that some new development is coming to town. And that means more business and more people. All of which means Whispering Bay is going to look pretty attractive to outsiders.”
“What kind of development?” Isabel asked.
“Condos,” Kitty whispered.
Isabel and Antonio looked stunned. “In Whispering Bay?”
“I know what you’re thinking. But I’ve heard the developer has a high respect for the environment. It’s all going to be very tastefully done. Nothing gaudy or overcrowded.”
Isabel smiled weakly. “If you approve, then I approve.”
Antonio didn’t say anything.
Kitty fought back a wave of disappointment. She was going to have to get used to reactions like this. It was natural people would be skeptical. She had been too, at first. But once they realized development was the way of the future, they would come around. And when they started seeing the financial wind-falls the condos would bring, they would cheer Ted on.
“So, do I have a date with some ropa vieja?” Kitty asked, walking them out the door.
“I’ll call you when we get back to town,” Isabel said, giving her a kiss good-bye. Her face clouded over like she had just remembered something unpleasant. “Has Pilar said anything to you about this new craziness of hers?”
Kitty stilled. “Craziness?”
“This vasectomy business!” Isabel whispered fiercely.
Antonio suddenly found the fern to his right fascinating.
Kitty swallowed hard. “Did Nick tell you about that?”
“No!” Isabel said, batting her hand through the air. “Silvia told me.”
Kitty nodded, relieved it hadn’t been Nick. Not that she really thought Nick would have told his mother-in-law something so personal.
Kitty hated getting in the middle of Pilar and her family, and she had a definite opinion when it came to Nick’s vasectomy, but she knew Pilar wouldn’t appreciate her sharing it with Isabel. “Pilar told me a little bit about it. But you know, I try not to give advice about things I don’t know much about.”
“Pah! What do you mean? You’re Pilar’s closest friend.”
“But I’m not married and I don’t have children. I also don’t have a high-powered job like Pilar’s. I’m really not sure how I would feel if I were her.”
“Your job is important,” Isabel protested. “You’re the most successful Realtor in the city. And you drive that fancy car! Don’t tell me you’re not doing well,” she added proudly.
Considering all the debt Kitty was in, “well” seemed like a relative term. But she would die before she let Isabel discover how stupid she was with money. “I just think there are some things that should be kept private. Even among good friends.”
“You’re like a sister to Pilar. If she was going to jump off a bridge, wouldn’t you stop her?”
Put that way, what Isabel said made sense. Pilar was making a big mistake. Kitty was sure of it. How many times in her life had Pilar come through for her? Too many to count.
“I can’t make any promises about the outcome, but I’ll talk to her again,” Kitty said.
Isabel looked relieved. “Gracias, hija.” She gave Kitty another kiss, then she and Antonio drove off, leaving Kitty only ten minutes before her meeting with Ted Ferguson.
No way could be she be late a second time.
She jumped in the car and drove like a madwoman all the way to the office. Luckily, Becky was already there and had coffee brewing.
“Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?” Becky asked.
Kitty opened the brown paper bag and arranged the muffins on a silver serving platter next to the coffeepot. “I ran into Pilar’s parents at the Bistro and got sidetracked.” She eyed Becky’s white cotton slacks and red-and-white-striped shirt. Becky was twenty-four, reed thin, and could make sackcloth and ashes look like they belonged in Vogue. “You look very nautical this morning. How was Disney World? Oh, and I almost forgot, how did your showing go last week?”
Becky’s eyes lit up like a pinball machine. “Disney was awesome. Brad and I had a great time. And . . . I think I might have made a sale.”
“That’s great! Why didn’t you call me?” Kitty rejuvenated her cafe latte with a hit of the fresh brew. She was about to take a sip when Becky let out a large shriek. Kitty had to clutch her mug to keep from dropping it.
“I can’t keep it in a second longer!” Becky cried, flinging her left hand in the air. A huge diamond nestled in a platinum setting made Kitty’s eyes bulge.
“Holy shit!” She grabbed Becky’s waggling fingers to get a better look. “This must have cost a fortune.”
“Brad’s been saving ever since we graduated from college. He didn’t want to finance it and start our married lives with that kind of debt hanging over our heads.”
Kitty placed her mug on the table and gave Becky a big hug.
“It was sooo romantic,” Becky said, wiping away a tear. “We were standing at the bottom of Cinderella’s Castle, along with about a kazillion other people waiting for Tinker Bell to fly down, when Brad just dropped to his knee and proposed. You should have seen the looks on people’s faces! Everyone around us was cheering and clapping and snapping pictures.” Becky sighed. “I’ll never forget it. Not as long as I live.”
Kitty smiled. “Sounds like Brad’s a pretty romantic guy.”
“Isn’t he?” Becky’s dreamy expression sombered. “You know, Kitty, I really appreciate everything you’ve done—encouraging me to get my Realtor’s license, showing me the ropes and all. I know this isn’t the right time, but I just hate keeping this inside. I’ve accepted a job with Walt Walters at Dolphin Isles.”
“What?” Kitty asked, laughing weakly. “I thought you just said—”
“I’m sorry, but sales have been so slow lately, and Dolphin Isles is starting construction on a new subdivision. I took a client over there to look and she absolutely fell in love with the place. I know we have to split the commission with them, but there wasn’t anything else in town she liked.
“Brad and I signed a contract with Walt to build our own home. You should see the model. It’s gorgeous! Three bedrooms, two baths, a fenced-in yard. Plus it comes with sod and a sprinkler system. Brad and I could never have afforded anything like that right now, but Walt gave us such a good deal. And afterward, he offered me a job right on the spot. Brad said I’d be a total dope not to take it.”
Kitty stuffed a blueberry muffin in her mouth. She didn’t care if was low fat or not. “Of course,” she mumbled. “When are you going to start working for him?”
“Well, that’s the thing,” Becky said, making a face. “He wants me to start right away and I’d be stupid to drag my feet on this. You know?”
Kitty nodded. The rent on her office was eight hundred a month, plus utilities and upkeep. She’d hoped once Becky started selling, they could split the costs. She was a selfish bitch for thinking of money at a time like this. But there it was.
“I hate to leave you,” Becky continued, “but I don’t want to lose this opportunity. I hope you understand.”
Kitty nodded again, willing her hand not reach out for another muffin.
“I’ve already cleaned out my desk,” Becky said.
“You have?”
“Like I said, Walt wants me to start right away. It’s the post-Fourth of July sale. The theme this month is ‘Sail away to the home of your dreams.’ ”
“Cute.” Of course, it wasn’t cute at all, but she didn’t have the heart to let the wind out of Becky’s sails.
“I got this new outfit to match. Isn’t it adorable?”
Before Kitty could come up with a response, the door opened and Ted Ferguson walked in. He wore navy blue slacks and a blue and orange golf shirt with a University of Florida logo on the pocket. His hair was wet and slicked back like he had just gotten out of the shower. Kitty could smell his Polo cologne from across the room.
He looked Kitty over with a critical eye like she was a prize hen at the county fair. “You look perfect,” he proclaimed. “Let’s go.”
Kitty blinked. “Where to?”
“Mexico Beach. I have a meeting set up with Earl Handy at his house.”
“But I thought we were going to meet here.”
“Don’t worry,” Becky said, pushing her toward the door. “I’ll lock up and d
rop the keys off later.”
Kitty glanced at the silver platter by the coffee machine. There was enough starch there to supply a Chinese laundry for a month. “Wouldn’t you like something to eat before we go?”
Ted looked over the assortment of muffins. “Who in their right mind eats carbs in the morning?”
Becky shook her head. “Not me.”
Ted threw her a sharp glance. “Smart girl.”
19
A man who appeared to be in his early fifties ushered them into the living room of the one-story, cream-colored stucco home. He had red hair and reminded Kitty a little of Ron Howard before he went bald. Or Howdy Doody, depending on which way he turned his head. He introduced himself as Vince Palermo, Earl Handy’s son-in-law. Earl’s only daughter, Lenore, had divorced and remarried a few years ago, but this was Kitty’s first time meeting Vince.
Kitty sat in a comfortable leather chair opposite Ted, careful to keep her knees together and her hands in her lap. Something about being in Earl Handy’s house made her feel ten years old again.
Vince and Ted talked college football while she glanced around the terra-cotta-tiled room. Pictures of sailboats and ocean views covered the walls. A black-and-white photograph of Earl as a young man holding up a marlin hung above the fireplace mantel. The smile on his face was triumphant, like he was king of the world.
It was a nice room. Simple, but inviting.
After about ten minutes, Earl shuffled in slowly, using a cane. Kitty hadn’t seen him since her grandmother’s funeral last year. He seemed frailer than she remembered.
“What’s this all about?” Earl asked gruffly.
“Hey, Dad.” Vince tried to assist Earl into his chair.
Earl batted Vince away with his cane. “Thought I only had a daughter. Didn’t know I’d sired a son at my age.”
Somehow, Vince’s complexion turned ruddier. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Got any milk of magnesia?” Earl asked.