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A Blush With Death Page 9
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Auntie was waiting for me next to Baby. “I’ll go home and get the barbecue started. I already wasted enough time on that damned machine today.”
“No problem. I’ll tell them it’s a rush job,” I said. “Do you know when the problem started, just in case they ask?”
She shrugged. “Last time I used it was yesterday when I was answering e-mail. Everything seemed normal then. There was a lot of spam, but after I checked them to make sure they weren’t anything important from our usual vendors, I deleted them.”
As I sped over to Devonshire Drive, a nasty headache began to creep up on me. The stress of the summer had been increasing with the temperature, and I was starting to look forward to cool weather. If we could just solve the problems Bebe’s Boutique was causing us, then maybe things would get back to normal.
In-A-Fix Computers was in a minimall, next to a Starbucks and Jumping Joe’s Burger Joint. The aroma coming out of the hamburger shack made my mouth water, and I could hardly wait to get home and chow down on Auntie’s barbecue. Lunch at the convention had been more adrenaline rush than sustenance. As I pushed through the door, carrying the computer, I heard a voice that was all too familiar.
“Persia! Whassup? How’s it hanging?”
Andy Andrews, slacker extraordinaire, sauntered over to take the computer from me. He was still wearing low rider shorts two sizes too big, but at least his tee shirt was clean, and he’d lost the backward baseball cap in favor of a retro mullet with one thin braid down the back. Maybe this time he wouldn’t make a pass at me. His last attempt had been less than spectacular.
“Andy? What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “Had to make some bucks to pay the rent after I got fired from the aquarium, you know? Can’t eat forever off the food bank. I know a lot about computers but never thought of putting it to use for cash until my old man talked to Brian, the owner of the shop here. He gave me this gig, and it’s working out pretty good. So what’s the problem?”
I explained what was going on, and he shook his head. “Did you back up your files?” As I shook my head, he let out a groan. “No? That figures. You don’t know how many people screw up on that. Okay, when do you want it by?”
“As soon as possible. Is there any way you can look at it tonight?”
Andy shrugged. “Can do, but it’ll run you an extra fifty bucks. Store policy,” he added, pointing to a sign that promised expedited service for a fee. “Otherwise, I’d do it for free, for such a hot chick like you.”
I fought back a grin. Andy was Andy was Andy, whether he sprawled in his apartment watching TV or working behind the counter in a computer store. “That’s fine. We need this ASAP. Call us when you know what’s wrong. You have my home number, right?”
He gave me a receipt and, before I could head for the door, caught up with me. “Whoa! I didn’t know you had such awesome tattoos—and you pierced your belly button! Too cool.” He leaned over, looking a little too closely at my belly-button ring. I wasn’t about to mention my nipple ring. That would probably be too much for the poor boy to handle.
“Hey, Andy, shake out of it, dude. I’ve had my belly button pierced since you were still covered in pimples.”
He gave me a salacious grin. “You sure you don’t want to get together for coffee, or something? I’m not that much younger than you.”
By his emphasis on the word something I knew what he had in mind. “Andy, let me give you a business tip. While you’re working, you shouldn’t hit on your customers. Not good for the store, not good for you, not good for your pocketbook. Just chill out, dude, put the tongue back in the mouth, and go work on my computer.” At his puppy dog look, I relented and smiled. “Don’t try so hard. I’m just not available.” At least not to you, I thought.
“Gotchya.” With a sheepish grin, he turned back to the counter, and I slipped out of the shop. As I drove along Beachcomber Drive, I thought it would be a good night to take the dogs out for a late-night walk. Maybe Bran and I could slip away from the barbecue and hit the beach. The moon would be waxing a bare sliver, working its way toward first quarter, and I could really a quiet wind-down to the day.
I pulled into the drive and dropped off my things in the living room before heading into the kitchen for a glass of iced tea. As I entered the room, I stopped cold. Buttercup, Delilah, Beast, and Pete were standing in the midst of chaos. The door to the pantry was open, and somebody had spilled a forty-pound bag of dog food all over the floor. The kibble was scattered all through the kitchen, and the bandits hadn’t stopped there. Packages of potato chips, pretzels, and dry cereal had been shredded and strewn across the floor. At least they couldn’t use a can opener. Yet.
As I turned from right to left, taking in the damage, I groaned. Not only had they gone on a munchies rampage, but somebody had also gotten into the flour. Where the kitchen merged into the back hall, a torn package rested on the floor, ten pounds of flour spilling out in a powdery trail. Paw prints—both big and small—were everywhere. In the midst of the mess, Hoffman came strutting in, clucking like the proud cock he was.
I counted to ten before turning on the guilty group. “You are the dumbest nitwits I’ve ever known! Wait till Aunt Florence sees this…” As I babbled on, Pete began to wag his tail and Buttercup batted a piece of kibble across the floor, a look of sheer delight on her face. I growled, then stalked out the back door and through the yard, over to Auntie’s side. She looked up from manning the grill.
“What did the computer shop say?” She was basting chicken with a sauce that smelled like pineapple and mint. The burgers and hot dogs would come later, after everybody was here.
I shook my head. “Nothing yet, they’ll let us know tonight or tomorrow morning. Auntie, did you leave the pantry open?”
She frowned. “I don’t think so, but I was in there getting supplies for the party. Maybe…why?”
I grinned. “The Menagerie decided to have a little party of their own.”
A suspicious look clouded her face. “Uh-oh. What did they do now?”
“Maybe you’d better come see.”
Auntie closed the grill and followed me back to the house. The moment she saw the havoc, she let out a little cry and grabbed the broom, gently swatting everybody who had four legs or wings out of the kitchen.
“Oh Persia, what a mess! I can’t believe they did this.” She looked like she might be going to cry, but then just shook her head. “Well, that’s about par for the course. We have to clean this up before anybody gets here,” she said, starting to sweep up the mess.
I gently took the broom from her hand. “You go watch the chicken. I’ll clean it up. It’s not so bad, really, just a few boxes of cereal, some chips, flour, dog food…a bag of jerky.”
As Auntie left the kitchen with Pete, Beauty, and the Beast in tow, I stared down Delilah and Buttercup, both of whom were eyeing the pile of food. “Don’t even think about it. Go find your buddies and curl up or have a hissy fit or go find a mouse or something. You’ve caused enough trouble for one day.”
ONCE THE KITCHEN was clean, I set out food for the troops. Maybe it would keep them out of our dinner. The doorbell rang as I finished up washing the counters, and Barbara and Dorian paraded in, bearing dessert—a huge sheet cake. While Dorian carried the cake out into the backyard, to the picnic tables Auntie had set up, Barb and I got started on the salad. Barb washed and tore the lettuce while I sliced tomatoes, radishes, and carrots. She dried the leaves in the vegetable spinner and then set about mincing garlic and dicing onions.
“Tonight should be interesting,” I said. “I invited Bran, and Auntie invited Kyle.”
Barb stopped, knife in midair. “Not really the wisest choice, you think?”
“No, really?” I grinned at her. “Well, both of them have to get over it. Bran’s a good friend and lover, and Kyle’s…well…Kyle is Kyle.” I tried to focus on my work, but my thoughts drifted back to the convention and Killian’s
face. I glanced at Barb. “What do you think about Killian?”
Barb’s lip twitched. “I thought I noticed a spark between the two of you.”
“I don’t know what to think. There’s just something about him…”
She scraped the onions and garlic into the big wooden bowl. “What’s going on with Bran and you right now?”
I shrugged. “We date. We sleep together on occasion. We’ve already had the ‘where is this leading’ conversation and decided that while we enjoy each other’s company, there’s no long term in our future, except for friendship.”
Barb began blending a vinaigrette. “Then you have leeway, if you really are interested in Killian?”
“Yeah, I do. And I’ll be honest with Bran. We agreed that honesty is the only way a relationship…friendship…like ours can work.”
As I put away the leftover veggies, I remembered that I had another talk to face. Sarah had called and left a message that she’d returned early. She’d be over to work tomorrow morning as planned. I groaned and leaned against the fridge.
“What’s wrong?” Barb rinsed the sponge and handed me a paper towel to wipe my hands on. “Here, dry your hands.”
“Sarah’s been slacking off. I’m supposed to talk to her about it tomorrow morning, and I have to fire her if she won’t shape up. I’ve never fired anybody in my life.”
Barb empathized. “We had to have ‘the talk’ with Ari last year. He was trying to branch out into construction on the side and got so unreliable that Dorian finally had to issue an ultimatum. He could either stay with the bakery or go into construction full time. He chose the bakery. It’s hard. You want to encourage people to follow their dreams, but you can’t let it interfere with your own business.”
“You’re right. I never thought about this side of being an employer, but now that Auntie has made me co-owner of the shop, I have to start paying more attention to the administrative issues. Which I hate.”
“But which you’ll do, because you’re such a good niece.”
I grinned, ducking my head. “Yeah, you nailed it. Auntie has faith in me. Venus Envy’s a good shop, and I’d miss working there. Since she has put this much trust in my abilities, I can’t and won’t let her down. I just hope Bebe Wilcox won’t drive us into the ground in the meantime.”
A glance out the window told me that Bran and Kyle had arrived, and they both looked a little ruffled. “Uh-oh, time to go break up the testosterone match. Come on,” I said, lifting the salad. “Let’s go charm them into submission.”
BY THE TIME we joined the group, Kyle and Bran were nose to nose over the death penalty. I didn’t want anything to do with the debate, so I slid my arm through Bran’s, gave Kyle a wide smile, and said, “Enough. No politics at dinner. Kyle, I see you brought your guitar. Why don’t you play something? Bran, please help Auntie carry the platter of burgers and dogs over to the picnic table.”
Kyle opened his guitar case. He was surprisingly talented and had a good voice, although I didn’t really like his choice in music. But anything was better than listening to their bickering.
Having played a good game of détente, I moved on to welcome Trevor and his new girlfriend, Cindy. To my relief, Cindy Andrews was a far cry from Lydia Wang, Trevor’s ex. Cindy was pretty, rather than stunning, but she was funny and witty, and I liked her immediately.
We were about to gather round the tables when our last visitor showed up: Kane Jimenez. As I watched him come through the gate and greet Aunt Florence with a kiss on the cheek, I had the sense of déjà vu—a sense that I’d seen all this before, but yet I knew I hadn’t. They seemed right together, their energies meshed. In fact, as I watched them walk, arm in arm, I realized that even though she might not know it, she had the chance for happiness standing by her side.
I slowly approached, not wanting to encroach on their intimacy. But Auntie glanced at me, and her face lit up in a way that made me feel warm and loved.
“Kane, this is my niece, Persia.”
The tall, salt-and-pepper-haired man held out his hand. He was dark, his hair long and braided in back. He wore a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of Bermuda shorts, and his grip was warm and sure. “I’ve heard so much about you through your aunt’s letters. It’s a pleasure to actually meet you in person.”
“Thank you, the pleasure’s likewise.” I turned to Auntie. “Dinner’s ready, it looks like. Should I get everybody started?”
She gave me a grateful smile. “Would you? I want to take Kane on a tour of the gardens while it’s still light enough to see.”
As they wandered off through the trellis and down the path, I headed over to the picnic table and began directing the ravenous crowd. But my thoughts lingered with Auntie and her caller, and I had a feeling that we’d be seeing a lot more of Kane over the next few months. And that thought, unlike the worries over the shop, made me smile.
While everybody was engaged with their food, Bran and I managed to find ourselves a private moment in the kitchen. He slid his arms around me, pulling me to him, his lips seeking mine. After a lingering kiss, which left me wonderfully distracted and horny as hell, I pulled away.
“Bran, we promised to be honest with each other, right?”
He nodded, waiting for me to go on.
“The thing is…I think I’ve met someone I’m interested in.” I spoke delicately, not wanting to step on his ego, even though we’d already discussed this possibility.
He leaned against the counter. “Are you lovers with him?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t know if this will even lead anywhere past a friendship, but I wanted you to know. We already agreed that we wouldn’t be exclusive, but I don’t want to just spring it on you if something does happen. I know you’re seeing Victoria, and I don’t mind.”
And, in truth, I didn’t. Victoria only came over to Gull Harbor once a month or so, and I knew she and Bran had been seeing each other on a casual basis for over two years now. We’d had the safe sex talk, and when I searched my heart, I couldn’t find a shred of jealousy.
Bran ran his fingers down my face. “Who is it? I hope not Kyle? That’s the only man on this island that I’d have a problem with you dating, and only because he’s such a jerk about us.”
I snorted. “I have no intention on sharing my love life with Kyle. No, this is someone I met at the convention. I’ll tell you about him later. Right now, if you’re interested, I’d like to get back to what we were doing?” I wrapped my arms around his waist, and he drew me in, searching my mouth with his tongue, setting me on fire. “Would you like to take a walk down by the water after dinner?” I murmured.
He nudged me in the hip, and I grinned, feeling his desire grow. Oh yeah, sex on the beach. Always fun, if a little sandy.
THE SUN HAD been up for forty-five minutes by the time I made my way out into the garden, where I planned on meeting Sarah when she arrived at six. The sky was so clear I felt like I could fall into the vast stretch of blue, and early sunbeams cut through the lingering shadows, creeping like slow tendrils waking from the earth. An echo of birdsong pierced the air, and I inhaled deeply, pulling the tangy chill into my lungs. There—on the edge, peeking around the corner, lurked a presage of autumn. A few more weeks and we’d be heading into the rainy season, and the glorious summer would fade.
I settled at one of the picnic tables, pushing away a lingering crumb from last night’s barbecue. I’d brought out a plate of Danish and a pitcher of iced tea with lemon to soften the impact of my impending talk with Sarah, but I knew they were only window dressings. At the last minute, Auntie had offered to join me, but I declined. She was right; I had to learn how to handle this like an adult.
The sound of a car pulling into the drive told me Sarah had arrived. At least she was on time. During the summer, she and Trevor started work early in order to beat the morning light. Watering flowers under the hot sun led to burned petals and skin, so they got the watering and weeding out
of the way before noon.
I waited nervously as she popped around through the side gate into the backyard. As she shaded her eyes from the sudden glare of sunlight, I sprang to my feet and made my way over to her side.
“Hey Persia,” she said. “What’s up? You usually aren’t awake this early.”
I sighed. Here goes nothing, I thought. “Sarah, we need to talk.” I gestured to the umbrella-shaded table.
Sarah hesitantly took a seat and accepted a glass of tea. I settled down across from her. “This is about me missing so much work, isn’t it?” she said, saving me from making the first move.
I let out a long sigh. “Yes, it is.”
“I warned your aunt when I first came to work here that I have my own business, too—”
Holding up my hand, I gently shook my head. “We know that. Auntie knows that. But Sarah, we need someone who’s going to be here on a regular basis. Your business seems to require more and more of your time, and that’s a good thing—for you. But it interferes with our operations. You haven’t put in a full twenty-hour week this summer. Can you see that?”
She stared at her glass, swirling her straw around in the lemon-flavored tea. “Yeah, I know. I guess I just haven’t wanted to face this moment. I’ve been hoping that I could squeeze in more time for my own affairs without affecting the job here, but I guess it’s reached a point where I have to make a decision. Either I go full time on my own, or I scale back and resume my work here. Shit or get off the pot time, you know?”
I gave her a rueful nod. “That about sums it up.” Maybe Auntie was right; maybe Sarah had just been looking for an excuse to quit in order to pursue her own dream.
She glanced up at the house, then over her shoulder at the gardens. “I love this place. I love working here, and I adore your aunt. You, too, Persia. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel when Miss Florence first told me you’d be overseeing the gardens, but I’m glad you came. You know what you’re talking about, and you’re easy to work for.”