by Maria Geraci
At first, all Kitty could see was a man’s back. His pants were bunched around his ankles, exposing his bare ass. Then she spotted Shea sitting on the edge of the dryer. The near-naked man was Moose, and he had Shea’s long legs wrapped around his waist. Moose made a jerking motion with his hips and let out a loud groan.
Someone in the crowd must have made a noise because Moose whipped his head around, his expression a mixture of surprise and disbelief.
Shea let out a loud shriek and buried her face in Moose’s chest.
“Someone close the door!” Kitty croaked. She tried to do it herself but Walt was blocking the way.
Steve reached around Walt and slammed the laundry room door shut. “Show’s over, people.”
Oh my God. Had they really just caught Moose and Shea having sex in the laundry room of a Dolphin Isles model home?
Walt cleared his throat. His eyes looked a little glazed. “I believe the Calypso model has a lock on the laundry room door,” he said to no one in particular.
Steve looked like he was trying not to laugh.
“It’s not funny,” Kitty said.
Steve shrugged. “I told you she was the hot one.”
Kitty suddenly remembered her mother. Hopefully she hadn’t passed out from the shock. She searched her out in the crowded hallway. “Mom, are you okay?”
Her mother’s eyes were bright and shiny. “Oh, I’m having a wonderful time, sweetie! Why on earth would you ever think I’d find Bunco boring?”
39
The Babes walked to their cars in stunned silence. Pilar avoided eye contact with her. The only person talking was Kitty’s mother. Nonstop. She’d seen her mother have an occasional glass of wine, but Kitty had never seen her drunk before.
Steve followed them outside. “Let me give you a ride home,” he offered.
“I don’t think so.”
“We need to talk.”
“You keep saying that. By the way, your ex is like . . . ridiculously gorgeous.” And whip smart, she wanted to add. But she figured one glowing adjective was enough.
“She’s not a nice person, Kit.”
That made her feel better. But not much. “So . . . are you like a millionaire or what?”
“That’s sort of a relative term—”
She cut him off with a glare.
“Okay, yeah, I guess you could call me a millionaire.”
For some reason, that made her angrier. “You want to talk? I have two questions for you: Are you the owner of Dolphin Isles? And was that really your house we nearly burned down?”
He grimaced. “Yes.”
For a second, she was speechless. Even though he’d basically admitted it in the house, hearing him say it directly was a shock. “Then we don’t have anything else to say to each other.”
“I can explain—”
“No, you can’t. You lied to me. About everything. I thought . . . I thought I was special.” She started to laugh. “God, I thought I was falling in love with you.”
“Kit—”
“You know, I was actually worried about you spending all that money on those first-class tickets. I thought you’d blown your savings in some sort of macho meltdown to impress me. What do you do? Go around targeting lonely women to seduce for kicks? Is it some sort of game?” She was shouting again. But she didn’t care. “I told myself the reason you were married so many times is because you picked these shit women who didn’t understand you. But you’re the real shit, aren’t you?”
Beneath the streetlamp she could see his face turn red.
“Aren’t you?” she demanded. She wanted to hit him. She was afraid she was going to. She blew out a breath. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t the man she thought he was. He was . . . for God’s sake, he was TNT!
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I’m a shit.”
“Yeah? Well, tell me something I don’t know.” She turned around and never looked back.
By the time they got back to Pilar’s house no one was in the mood to continue Bunco. Kitty helped her mother into her BMW convertible and drove home. She felt numb. But maybe that was a good thing. She stopped at Corbits to get an early edition of tomorrow’s Whispering Bay Gazette. Lorraine was right. It was all there in black and white. How Ferguson and Associates had bought beachfront property from Earl Handy and their master plan to build condos and turn Whispering Bay into one of Florida’s premier vacation spots.
Ted was quoted as saying, “It’s a shame really about the senior center. It’s a lovely old building, but it’s in such disrepair that to keep it standing is a potential hazard. We would hate to be responsible for an injury to any of Whispering Bay’s beloved senior citizens.”
Bleh.
Kitty scanned the article. Vince was quoted and of course, so was Bruce Bailey. “Ted Ferguson is a visionary. A man ahead of his time.”
She flipped to the next page to continue reading. Alongside the article was a picture of her (the one from her business card) with the caption, Kitty Burke, local residential real estate agent, seals the deal.
Kitty’s hands began to shake.
The reporter stated that he had tried to talk to her during the celebration party, but that she had left early. However, “reliable” sources had heard Ms. Burke say, “Personally, I hate the idea of condos on the beach. I’m only in it for the commission.”
Oh my God.
She read it again.
And again and again. But each time it was the same. “I’m only in it for the commission.”
What would Viola think? And the rest of the Gray Flamingos? And for that matter, the rest of the town?
She dialed Ted’s number.
“Ferguson here.”
“Are you responsible for that quote in the Whispering Bay Gazette?” she demanded.
“Who is this?”
“You know perfectly well who this is.”
“I’m not sure who gave the quote. It could be any number of people. Could have been Vince or maybe even Earl. Are you denying you said it?”
“Not like that!”
Ted chuckled maliciously. “Welcome to big business, Ms. Burke. We get misunderstood all the time. Take that little petition going around town. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s your name at the top of the list.”
“I’m not denying I signed the petition. I had no idea you were planning to tear down the senior center.”
“And take that little incident between us at the party,” Ted continued. “I think you thought I was actually making a pass at you.”
Kitty nearly squeezed the phone in half. “You did make a pass at me, you bastard.”
There was a split second of silence.
“Okay, listen up. Those fucking Gray Geezers have gotten the town in an uproar. This ‘meeting’ they’re holding could be a potential PR nightmare. Tomorrow night you’re going to dress up in your prettiest little Junior League outfit, plaster a smile on your face, and get your oversized ass to the senior center seven p.m. sharp and do some damage control. Got it?”
Oversized ass? “Are you kidding me? Get yourself another lackey. Get Teresa to do it.”
“I never kid about business. And I wouldn’t waste Teresa’s time on this. Why do you think I hired you? ‘Help me help you’?” he mocked. “What a joke. You can’t even read a contract right. But for some reason the yokels in this town consider you their resident princess. You even managed to bamboozle a sharp old coot like Earl. So I suggest if you don’t want any more ‘misquotes’ in the local mullet wrapper, you’ll do as I say. And another thing, don’t sic your boyfriend on me again. Now do you got it?”
Kitty’s throat tightened up. Boyfriend? What was Ted talking about? Tears misted her eyes. Do not let him hear you cry! “I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“Oh, we always have a choice, Katherine. But nine times out of ten, we go with the highest bidder.”
40
She felt like one of those gunslingers in an old-time W
estern. The ones hired by the evil railroad men determined to choke out the God-fearing ranchers. The ranchers would gather at the church while someone like Gary Cooper or Jimmy Stewart played the role of local sheriff. Her part on the other hand was usually played by . . . oh, Lee Marvin or some other old-time baddy.
She rummaged through her closet, looking for the right dress. Fuck Ted Ferguson and his Junior League outfit. She would wear black. Something with an obscenely low neckline and ultrashort skirt. It would suit her role.
She flipped through her clothes. She had to have at least one shocking dress in her wardrobe. She tossed outfit after outfit onto her bed. It was a little disconcerting to discover she didn’t have anything even slightly resembling shocking.
In the end, she settled on an above-the-knee ratty-looking denim skirt and a Save the Manatees oversized T-shirt she’d bought at a garage sale from Frida last year. A pair of flip-flops completed the outfit. “Take that, Ted Ferguson,” she said, sticking her tongue out at her reflection in the mirror. Childish, to be sure, but it made her feel better. At the last minute she decided to add Viola’s flamingo pin to her outfit.
She hadn’t gone out all day and the phone had only rung once—from a telemarketer wanting to know if she was interested in participating in a survey on SUVs. No phone call from Pilar or Shea.
Or Steve.
Not that she wanted Steve to call. She never wanted to see him again, so there was no use in his calling.
But she had expected a call from Shea. And had hoped for one from Pilar.
Kitty had never felt so alone in her life.
Tonight would suck. Big time. But she would get through it. She would plaster a fake smile on her face (after all, she was used to that, wasn’t she?), and she’d do her best. No one could fault her for doing her job. She’d make her six-figure commission, buy Gram’s house, and go back to doing what she knew. Selling houses.
Her mother was waiting for her in the living room. Her gaze took in Kitty’s outfit. “Interesting choice, dear.”
“Are you going somewhere?”
Her mother looked surprised by the question. “With you of course.”
Kitty didn’t remember telling her mother about the town meeting. “Mom, I’d rather you didn’t. It won’t be pleasant.”
“Nonsense. It’s an important night for you.” Her voice softened. “I know I haven’t always been there for you in the past. Maybe I can make it up to you tonight.”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to say.”
Her mother gave her a hug. “You’ll do fine, darling. Just be yourself.”
Be herself? Right now “herself” was the last person on earth she wanted to be.
Kitty had never seen so many people in the senior center. There must have been over two hundred folding chairs set up, but it wasn’t enough. A large crowd stood in the back and along the walls. There was a refreshment table with muffins (a lot more than six dozen), cookies, and even a punch bowl. Kitty recognized the cookies. They were the kind Frida baked and sold at the Bistro.
She scanned the room looking for Frida or Ed, but every time she made eye contact with someone their gaze quickly slid away. She’d never had that happen before.
Her mother sat next to Pilar’s parents and the other Gray Flamingos. Viola and Mr. Milhouse were seated in the front row, next to Bruce Bailey. Bruce motioned for her to take a seat next to him.
She’d wanted a chance to talk to Viola before the meeting began, but it didn’t look like she’d get the opportunity. What had Viola thought about the quote in the paper?
Viola stood and walked to the podium. “Can you hear me?” she asked, tapping the mic with her finger.
“The mic’s not working, Vi,” a male voice called out. It was Gus.
“Neither is anything else in this place,” Mr. Milhouse rumbled loudly.
This caused an affirmative furor from the rest of the crowd. Kitty turned to see Gus sitting five rows behind her. Steve and Nathan were there too. Kitty’s heart began to thud. What was Steve doing here?
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” said Bruce Bailey, his cheeks red. “Let me see that thing.” He got up and tinkered with the microphone, but he couldn’t get it to work.
“Looks like you’re just going to have to talk real loud, Vi,” shouted Gus.
Bruce slithered back to his seat.
Viola smiled at the crowd. “First, I’d like to thank everyone for coming. It’s a Friday night and I know all of you have better things to do than hear a bunch of us retirees whining about losing our center. As most of you know by now, Earl Handy has sold the land this center is located on, and some fancy developer from south Florida is going to build condos over it.”
The crowd began to boo.
A trickle of sweat ran down Kitty’s spine and her thighs felt glued to the metal chair.
Viola’s voice turned serious. “I don’t know much about the condo business, but I do know this. This center shouldn’t be torn down. When I first retired, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. I was better off than a lot of people my age. I’d saved and had a good pension and my house was paid off, but other than taking a couple of trips a year, what was I going to do? I volunteered at church and did the Meals On Wheels things, but like a lot of senior citizens, I missed the socialization I got by getting out there every day and interacting with people. That’s when my good friend Amanda Hanahan stepped in.” Viola searched Kitty out and smiled at her.
Kitty felt the blood rush to her head. Viola had smiled at her! Of course, there was always the chance Viola hadn’t read the article yet. No, Viola was too sharp. She’d have read the article.
“Amanda and I decided that the senior center needed a face-lift. Now, notice I said the senior center. I for one, have never had plastic surgery.”
This prompted a smattering of chuckles.
“Together, we established the Gray Flamingos, and over the last ten years, the Flamingos have raised nearly twenty thousand dollars. That money has been put into improvements and other community projects that have benefited the retired citizens of Whispering Bay. But it’s not enough. We’ve pleaded with the city council to take our cause seriously. We’ve protested and we’ve formed petitions but it’s been no good. The council doesn’t want to hear us and neither does Earl Handy.”
Viola’s eyes shot to the back of the room. Everyone, including Kitty followed her gaze to see Earl Handy standing near the refreshment table. He was leaning on his cane, with DeeDee at his side.
“Now don’t get me wrong. It was perfectly legal and certainly within Earl’s rights to sell his own land. So the question is, what’s the city going to do to make up for our loss?”
Bruce recognized this as his cue. He reluctantly stepped up to the podium and leaned down to speak into the mic. “Fellow citizens of Whispering Bay,” he began.
“The mic isn’t working, Bruce!” someone shouted. “Remember?”
The crowd laughed.
Bruce’s face turned even redder. “I can understand that a few of you are upset right now . . .” The crowd began to hiss. “But you’re looking at this all wrong. The city council merely follows the wishes of our citizenry. And the majority of citizens in Whispering Bay don’t want to pour our hard-earned tax dollars into a center for the retired folks. It’s as simple as that. People would rather spend money on the school, or improving the roads—something we can all benefit from. Sorry, Viola,” Bruce said, looking genuinely unhappy, “but that’s the honest-to-God truth.”
Mr. Milhouse yelled, “How do you know that’s what the people want if you never give them a chance to vote on it? Every time we try to get a referendum going you shoot it down!”
A round of applause supported Mr. Milhouse’s outburst.
Bruce took a handkerchief from the back pocket of his pants and wiped his neck.
“Too hot for you, Bruce?” one of the Flamingos yelled. “Well, that’s cause the air-conditioning isn’t working!”
The cro
wd laughed.
“If the city council isn’t going to help us, then what about this Ted Ferguson fellow? Where’s he? What’s he got to say about all this?” someone else yelled.
Somewhere from the middle of the room, Kitty recognized Ted’s smooth voice. “I’m Ted Ferguson,” he said, “and I just want to say that I’m extremely proud to be joining a community that shows so much spirit.”
Bruce applauded Ted’s “speech.” “Excellent point, Mr. Ferguson!” No one in the room joined the clapping. After a few seconds Bruce gave up. “Kitty Burke is representing Ferguson and Associates tonight. Maybe you’d like to get her take on all this? After all, she’s a local girl. Her grandmother was the founder of the Gray Flamingos, yet she’s wholeheartedly in support of the condo project. If anyone can give us an impartial view of this situation, it would be her.”
It felt like a million eyes zoomed in her direction.
This was it.
She unglued herself from the chair and made her way to the podium. She glanced at Viola, who smiled at her, which made Kitty relax. But only for a second. The rest of the room was staring at her expectantly.
She kept her eyes trained to the back wall. “Hello. As most of you know, I’m Kitty Burke.” She didn’t recognize her own voice. It sounded too deep and her breath came out all huffy like she’d just run a marathon. Her heart felt ready to explode from her chest.
“I’m here because—”
“You’re here because of the commission!” someone shouted from the right side of the room.
She squinted to see the direction of the heckler, but the room was so packed she couldn’t tell where he was. She averted her gaze to the back wall again.
That’s when she noticed the Babes standing together in a group. Shea and Pilar caught her eye and waved. Frida and Lorraine gave her a big thumbs-up and Tina yelled, “Go, Kitty!”
There was a polite round of applause after that.
She took a deep breath and started again. “I can’t deny what the Gazette wrote. I did say I was in this deal for the commission. And I did say I hated the idea of condos on the beach.”