There's Something About Marty (A Working Stiffs Mystery Book 3) Page 8

  I looked up at Rox as she placed a coffee carafe in the center of a table that had been set with three cups and spoons. “We were on the phone late last night and…”

  Talking about me and Kyle, no doubt.

  “…well, I didn’t think you’d mind.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. Inviting Donna was as good as getting all our friends on speed dial for a conference call.

  Rox squeezed out an apologetic smile and sat to my left while Donna flanked me on my right.

  “She doesn’t,” Donna said, while Rox filled our coffee cups.

  I reached for the creamer. “Says you.”

  “You don’t mean that. Do you know why? Because we’re your best friends.” Donna scooted closer to me. “So spill it. What’s going on?”

  I stared into her sapphire eyes. Did I dare answer that question honestly? If I did, anything I said would become public knowledge before the day was out. Was I fully prepared for everyone to know about Steve and me? But wasn’t that why I was here, so that I could tell Rox before the news hit the gossip airwaves?

  It was now or never. “It’s a long story.”

  “Goody!” Beaming, Donna exchanged a smile with Rox. “I love stories.”

  I was pretty sure she was going to have mixed feelings about this one.

  “A few weeks back,” I said, my heart racing, “after Trudy died—”

  “Poor Trudy, but that gave you the opportunity to meet Dr. Yummy!” Donna patted my hand encouragingly.

  “Right.” And not the guy I wanted to talk about. “I…” I heard my phone ring and reached for the tote bag by my feet. “Hold that thought.” If it were anyone other than Gram, Steve, or Frankie, they could leave a message.

  I recognized the number as the one I’d dialed five minutes earlier. Seriously? Hadn’t I made it clear that I was going into a meeting? Did being a doctor mean that his time was more valuable than mine?

  If I hadn’t been so desperate to see Kyle today I would have let it go to voicemail. “I need to get this,” I said, getting up from my seat. “I’ll be right back.”

  I answered on the fourth ring. “Hello.”

  “Hey, sorry I missed your call. I was in the shower.”

  That’s not all he missed. “You must’ve not got my message.”

  “I heard enough, but I hate messages, don’t you? Especially when the much more pleasant option is to speak to the real thing.”

  I should have been flattered, but since Rox and Donna were hanging on my every word, I felt like I was tap dancing around a minefield. I headed for the door to have some privacy. “That’s sweet but—”

  “I’m glad you called. I had a good time last night.”

  “Me, too, but about why I called,” I said, stepping out into the sunshine. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Want to do it over lunch?”

  Lunch? I just wanted a quick Q and A session. “I’m in the middle of a meeting and don’t know how long I’ll be, so—”

  “No problem. Come on over when you’re done. You know where I live.”

  Yeah, a nice, cozy sailboat where he had ingratiated himself with my mother when I was working a case a few weeks back.

  I cringed, knowing that I needed to pull on my big girl pants and agree to do this before anyone else I knew ended up in his ER.

  “Okay, see you later.” I disconnected and headed back inside, hoping that I hadn’t just made a big mistake.

  Both Rox and Donna were sitting exactly where I’d left them, only they now wore big grins on their faces.

  How much had they heard? “What?”

  Donna fixed her gaze on mine. “How’s Dr. Yummy this morning?”

  I needed to cool her jets before she went supersonic with the wrong story. “That was about work.”

  “Sure.” She tapped a couple of buttons on her phone and held it up to Rox. “I ask you, does that look like they were discussing work?”

  Rox’s eyes misted over as she stared at the picture of Kyle and me at the restaurant. “Awww, look at that expression on his face. I knew the two of you would hit it off if you gave him a chance.”

  “It was just a dinner,” I said. “And that phone call from him was—”

  “About work. Right.” Rox handed Donna back her phone. “Give us some credit. Plus the acoustics are really good in here.”

  Donna leaned closer, her smile predatory. “He was calling because he wanted to see you later, right?”

  “Yes, sort of, but you two need to shut up and let me tell you something before you jump to some crazy conclusions.” Because if I spent one more minute in this pressure cooker I was going to blow my top.

  Donna folded her arms across her midsection, showcasing her perky C cups. “Fine, then tell us!”

  “I’m seeing Steve,” I blurted out before I lost my nerve.

  “What?!” they shouted in unison.

  “I know.” Boy, did I know how unlikely he and I seemed as a couple. “I’m sorry I kept this from you, but now you know that we’re…”

  …going out.

  Nope. Technically, he and I had yet to go on a real date.

  …going steady.

  Hardly. And I’d been away from the dating circuit for so long I didn’t even know if couples our age did that anymore.

  “…together.” More or less, and usually at his house in the middle of the night.

  “Steve and you,” Rox said as if my pairing with one of our best friends left a bad taste in her mouth.

  I nodded.

  She stared at me. “Together.”

  I nodded again.

  “Holy moly,” Donna said on a sigh. “I sure didn’t see this coming.”

  The intensity of Rox’s gaze sharpened. “Considering you’d always said that would never happen I don’t think anybody did.”

  Me included. “I realize this is a bit of a shock but….”

  “Yeah, understatement of the year.” Rox jutted her chin. “Especially since I see you almost every day!”

  I didn’t know whether to let her vent or try to explain something I barely understood myself. “It just sort of happened.”

  “When?”

  “Around a month ago.” Actually closer to five weeks, but I didn’t want to make it sound worse than it already did.

  Her mouth gaped. “A month?”

  Donna swatted my arm. “And you didn’t tell us?”

  “I couldn’t.” If it blew up in my face, it would be devastating enough for Steve to walk out of my life. I couldn’t risk forcing our mutual friends into a situation in which they had to choose between us, especially Rox and Eddie. “I wasn’t ready.” Like that day would ever come, but I couldn’t keep this a secret forever. Not in this town. And it was killing me to keep it from Rox.

  Cocking her head at me, she leaned back in her chair. “Not ready, but in the meantime you let me and Donna set you up with some dates. Really, don’t you think you could have said something?”

  Donna swatted me again. “Yeah, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Ow!” I rubbed my arm. “That only happened twice and you practically ambushed me.”

  “I did not ambush you last night!” Rox protested. “I facilitated.”

  She and I both knew that was a lie. “Big difference.”

  “I thought you liked Kyle Cardinale!”

  “That was almost two months ago!” I said, matching her volume. “And I was only mildly interested before I found out he was seeing someone else.”

  Rox’s cheeks reddened as if I’d slapped her across the face. “Well, how would I know that when you don’t talk to me!”

  “So, there’s nothing going on between you and Dr. Yummy?” Donna asked, making me wonder if all the years of hairspray had clogged her ears.

  “No!” Except one stupid moment when I let my guard down and he kissed me.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the kitchen door swing open and a frowning Eddie heading our direction. “Everythi
ng okay out here?”

  Donna answered with a nervous giggle. “Everything’s fine. We’re just having some girl talk.”

  “Yeah,” Rox said, her eyes aiming daggers at me. “We girls were having a long overdue chat…”

  I glared back at her. Yes, you have a right to be pissed. Now get over it.

  “…and finding out about the new man in Char’s life.”

  Eddie stood behind his wife, his hands on her shoulders. “Yeah? Anyone we know?”

  She snorted. “I’d say so because he’s your best buddy.”

  Eddie blinked. “Steve?”

  “We’ve been seeing one another.” I braced myself for some teasing.

  He gave me a crooked smile. “What do you want from me, my approval?”

  “I don’t think I need it.” But I wanted it just the same.

  He winked. “Atta girl.”

  “So, Steve didn’t say anything to you about it?” Rox asked him.

  Eddie shrugged. “Why would he?”

  “Yeah, why say anything to a trusted friend?” Rox pushed out of her chair and grabbed her cup.

  “Rox,” I said to her back. “It wasn’t about trust.” Okay, maybe it was a little.

  “I have to get back to work. I’m sure Donna does, too.”

  The implication was clear. She wanted me out of there. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later.” Alone and soon, before the damage I’d caused had an opportunity to fester.

  Rox waved me off and stalked toward the kitchen. “Sure you will.”

  Chapter Nine

  I come from a long line of women who eat in times of crisis. Not that my last twenty-four hours constituted a full-blown crisis. But with Steve not wanting to talk about the revolving door of poisoning victims at our local ER, and Rox not wanting to talk to me period, it should have come as no surprise when I found myself roaming the Red Apple Market in search of something comforting. It’s just that the doctor perusing the deli section wasn’t what I had in mind.

  I did an about face and zipped into the express checkout line, where I grabbed a candy bar from the rack of sugary treats next to me and tossed it onto the conveyor belt.

  Unfortunately, Millie, one of the chattier checkers, was working the register. “I know, I couldn’t have been more shocked when I heard about it,” she said to the middle-aged customer in front of me as she took her time scanning a can of dog food. “He was in here with his wife on Tuesday. Pretty thing. Beautiful skin.”

  I jingled the five quarters in my hand to give Millie the clue that I was in a hurry.

  Oblivious, she rested her palm on the second can as if she could divine its price. “I hear she’s been through three husbands.”

  There was no question about the topic of the gossip du jour—Victoria McCutcheon.

  The dog food lady glanced back at me and lowered her voice to a whisper. “She either has the worst luck or she knows how to pick ’em.”

  I felt like telling the woman that I could still hear her.

  Millie nodded. “Or both. Still, I feel sorry for her. They were so cute together.”

  I felt sorry for her, too. Victoria’s husband had been taken from her and in one of the most horrific ways that I could have imagined.

  “That’ll be three twenty-seven, hon.”

  As the dog food lady rummaged through her wallet I saw a package of brie cheese land on the conveyer belt behind my candy bar. One of the better quality brands, too. Someone knew her cheese.

  I looked back to see if the epicurean behind me was anyone I knew.

  Correction, his cheese along with several large mushrooms, a bunch of chives, and a bag of fresh spinach. All organic, no doubt.

  Kyle had a twinkle in his eyes when they shifted to my candy bar. “If you eat that you’re going to spoil your lunch.”

  “It’s…” I couldn’t think of a believable lie that wouldn’t make me look like I was PMSing. “It’s a snack for later in case—”

  “In case you don’t like what I’ll be feeding you?” He put my candy bar back on the rack. “Trust me, you’re going to like it.”

  I’d always been wary of men who asked me to trust them, especially the ones who reminded me of my ex.

  I smiled politely. “I’m sure I will.”

  Millie winked at me like we were the second cutest couple she’d seen this week when she rang up his cheese. “Oooh, looks like he’s making something special for you.”

  “Sure looks that way.” And way too much like a date, dang it.

  I needed to get out of there before anyone else I knew saw us together and came to the same conclusion. “I’ll wait for you outside,” I said to Kyle.

  A minute later, he joined me where I had been staring out at Merritt Bay and wishing I could have a redo of my morning. “So, did your meeting end early?” he asked.

  Abruptly was more like it. “Yeah, it didn’t last as long as I thought it was going to.”

  “Want to come over now and make it brunch?”

  Not really but I needed to talk to him, and the sooner the better. “Sure, that would be great.”

  He looked around, squinting against the glare of the sun at my back. “Where’d you park?”

  I pointed to the side lot, where I had tucked the Jag away behind a dusty Red Apple panel truck so that I could stuff my face without an audience. “Back there. How about you?” The only red car in the lot was Millie’s old Saturn.

  “I walked.”

  Of course he had. The marina was only a block away.

  He inched toward my car. “Can I hitch a ride with you? I’d love to check out your interior.”

  If this had been any other day I would have nailed him on his double entendre. Instead, I injected enough frost in my glance so he’d know that I hadn’t called him to play sexually charged games.

  But he had eyes only for the car as we approached. “You don’t see the red leather in an XJ6 every day.”

  “I wouldn’t know. It was my ex-husband’s.” I clicked the remote to unlock the driver’s door. “Give me a second and I’ll open your door.”

  “The remote won’t unlock it?”

  “Nope.” That was just one of a long list of things that had gone wrong with the Jag in the four months since Chris handed over his car keys to my divorce attorney.

  I got behind the wheel and reached across to open the passenger door.

  “Might be the actuator,” he said, climbing in.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much what my mechanic told me.” Actually, my high school buddy, George at Bassett Motor Works, had said that he wouldn’t know what was wrong with it until he took it apart. Since that sounded scary expensive I’d been in no hurry to get it fixed.

  Looking around, Kyle leaned in my direction to check out the back seat. “Nice.”

  I breathed in his scent, the same fresh combination of soap and sandalwood that I’d noticed last night, and concurred with him on a sensory level. Then I met his gaze and felt color flooding into my cheeks when I realized that he might not have been referring to the car.

  “Okay, then. On to brunch!” I announced a little too loudly as I started the engine.

  “Charmaine—”

  “Char. Only my mother and strangers call me Charmaine.”

  I watched the corners of his lips curl in amusement, his brown eyes warm and kind. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to think of me as a stranger.”

  After last night that would be impossible.

  I forced a smile and was about to shift into reverse when his hand touched mine.

  “And I’d like you to relax. I may have overstepped when I kissed you last night, but I assure you that nothing is going to happen today that you don’t want to happen.”

  He had missed on that promise by at least a half hour, but he was right about the two of us. Nothing was going to happen.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  Twenty minutes later, I was on Kyle’s sailboat, sipping mineral water at the table he’d set for two. “Are you sure I c
an’t do anything to help?” I asked as I watched him slice the mushrooms he’d bought.

  I knew he didn’t need me crowding him in his one-person galley, but we had an hour to kill before the egg dish he was preparing would be ready, and I was running out of safe subjects to talk about.

  “Nope, I’ve got this.” He transferred the mushrooms into a sauté pan.

  “Smells good. What are you making?”

  “Spinach brie frittata. My grandmother’s recipe.”

  “Passed down generation to generation?” I asked, imagining Kyle in braces, cooking with his mom.

  His face split into a smile as if I’d said something funny. “No, my mother doesn’t cook. Everything I know I learned from my nonna.”

  Sounded like we had that in common, too. Only my grandmother was English-Irish, not Italian.

  “What’s your mother do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Focusing on the mushrooms he was sautéing, he shrugged. “Let’s see, she shops and travels, and redecorates the living room every few years.”

  Jeez, he was describing my mother in the flush years following her TV series.

  “And to be fair,” he added, “she also volunteers at my dad’s hospital and sits on the board of a couple of nonprofits.”

  “Back up. You said your dad’s hospital. He’s a doctor?”

  “A neurologist back in Boulder. He also teaches there at the university.”

  “Sounds like someone who has a lot of letters after his name.” And some big bucks for each one of those letters. Maybe that explained the sailboat and the expensive dinner last night. Kyle came from money.

  His expression darkened as he added several cups of chopped spinach to the pan. “Something like that.”

  I had the feeling that I’d struck a nerve. Some father-son thing? I didn’t want to intrude into Kyle’s personal life more than I already had, but this seemed like an opportunity to shift the conversation toward the subject where I needed his expertise.

  “Had you always wanted to be a doctor?”

  “Hell no, I wanted to be a rock star.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, but he certainly had the looks to be the front man in a band. “Decided you didn’t want to buy a bus and play a different city every night?”