Jingle of Coins (6 page)

Ignoring the temptation to utilize her talent in the casino, she spent the next hour browsing through the gift shops and various antique car displays. When she paused at the entrance to brace herself for the heat wave that would surely engulf her the moment she went out, her arms and legs felt as if they had weights tied onto them, a sure sign that her fragile reserve of energy was fading. She’d been on the road since six this morning, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to call it a night. Tomorrow would be a busy day. In addition to getting her furniture delivered, she needed to call the local college and hire one or two students to unload the trailer.

She crossed her fingers and slipped her key into the ignition. Yes! The needle moved into the safe zone! Feeling rejuvenated, she cautiously turned the air conditioner onto low and pulled onto the highway.

It didn’t take long to check into her room at the Golden Sphynx, and after an hour’s rest, Emily decided to drive to her apartment and check on the water and electricity. As she turned into the complex, she noticed an open trailer filled with furniture parked across the handicapped parking spaces. Two muscled men struggled to lift an oversize couch over the side rail.

She pulled the Jeep to the back row and parked sideways. One of the men set down his end of the sofa and exhaled a long breath as she walked toward him.

“Hello,” he said, eyeing her trailer. “Looks like we both have the same idea. You must be the other new tenant. My name’s Glen. Sorry to hold you up,” he apologized. “We should be done in about an hour.”

Emily stared, mesmerized by the greenest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. Realizing that he was watching her with a curious expression, she grasped his outstretched hand. She could feel the flush creeping up her neck and prayed that he would think it was caused by the sun.

Answer him, dummy. She made an attempt at polite conversation. “Emily Sane.” It came out a miserable mumble. She stood there, embarrassed, unable to think of anything witty to say.

“Glad to meet you.”

Another rush of heat that had nothing to do with the searing temperature made her knees feel weak. “Uh, same here,” Emily said. She stared open-mouthed as intelligent speech abandoned her once again. Although he was at least ten years older, something about the man reached out and snapped her feminine instinct to attention. Wavy brown hair, interlaced with touches of grey, glistened in the afternoon sunlight. Long, dark eyelashes any woman would kill for framed twinkling green eyes, and dimples flashed in and out of his cheek when he smiled. A sleeveless tee shirt framed muscular arms, while tight jeans accented rock-hard thighs.

Emily quickly dropped her gaze to his running shoes before she got caught staring again. Whatever “it” was, this man had “it” in spades. And—she wanted it. Bad. Every nerve ending in her body felt ignited by a blowtorch, and she wished desperately that her frazzled brain would come up with something witty to say. She squinted and raised a hand to block the sun from her eyes, wishing that she’d kept her sunglasses on so she could hide behind the oversized lenses. Schooling her face into what she hoped was a bland expression, she lifted her glance to meet his.

He pulled his hand from hers and pointed to her trailer. “If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes, you can pull over here when we’re through. That will make it easier to unload your stuff.”

Emily struggled to pull herself together. She must be more tired than she thought. She shook her head. “I wasn’t planning to unload tonight.” At last, coherent sentences! She hadn’t lost all her marbles, just temporarily misplaced a few!

“No, thanks. See you around.” She waved and hurried toward the narrow walkway. Her hands trembled as she shoved the key into her door and stepped inside.

“See you around? My God, with such witty repartee, the man must think I’m a moron,” she chided herself. “The first really good looking man I meet since my divorce offers to help offload my stuff, and what tantalizing tidbits of conversation did I come up with? Duh—no wonder I don’t have a boyfriend. He probably thinks I’m an empty-headed bimbo.”

Embarrassed, she wandered over to the window and peeked through a narrow gap in the beige curtains, stepping back when she heard the sound of footsteps. A few minutes later the steps faded and she felt safe enough to open the drapes.

Tearing her gaze away from the window, she started when a soft breeze tickled her hair. The electricity must be on. She walked into the compact kitchen and turned on the faucet. Water flowed from the tap. Good. At least she had electricity and water. If nothing else, she’d be able to cook and take a hot shower. Without warning, thought of the green-eyed man standing naked while water cascaded over him filled her mind. She shook her head and tore her thoughts away from lascivious images of her new neighbor.

Humming softly, she reached into the refrigerator and turned the thermostat to a lower setting. Groceries could wait until tomorrow or the next day, when the fridge would be cold. Feeling drained, Emily took one last glance around the empty apartment, closed the drapes, then locked the door.

Back in the parking lot, she avoided speaking to the men still unloading furniture. She lifted a hand in farewell, then hurried to her Jeep. A car pulled into the space in front of her, so she had to back out. She’d almost navigated all the obstacles when a loud whump echoed behind her. Cursing her ineptness, she glanced at the rearview mirror.

Oh no. Instead of backing around the man’s trailer, she’d plowed right into the middle of it. The two men stood nearby, pointing at the kink in what used to be a straight side rail. Emily unhooked her seatbelt and stepped out. Glen crooked his index finger, motioning for her to join them. An unfriendly scowl replaced his engaging smile.

Utterly embarrassed, Emily struggled to keep a straight face. If the man hadn’t thought she was a moron before, her lousy driving probably convinced him that she didn’t have one single brain cell between her ears.

“Oh well,” she thought as her mind quickly blotted out erotic images of the two of them intertwined on a bed. “I really didn’t want a sex life anyway.”

Chapter Six

The delivery van arrived promptly at nine o’clock the next morning. Emily waited for them to finish offloading her new living room set. As they moved toward their truck, she approached them about payment to unload her stuff from El Cajon. The movers were not the most clean cut men she ever met, with their tattoos and chipped teeth, but she knew from recent experience with her ex-husband that good looks could be deceptive. Besides, it was these guys’ muscles she needed, not their appearance.

The two men agreed, and some forty minutes later, they wheeled in the last of her belongings. Emily waved them off and then surveyed the sea of boxes littering her apartment. She decided to tackle the kitchen first and dug into the task of unpacking the cartons with an enthusiasm she hadn’t felt since her accident. Box after box disappeared as she folded, sorted, and put away canned goods, pots, and pans. By the time she finished unpacking the bedroom containers, the muscles in her back felt tight and sore.

Grimacing from the twinges in her back, legs, and arms, she stretched. When that didn’t help, she closed the drapes, padded into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. Tendrils of steam clouded the mirror as she stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the steady stream of water.

The pulses of hot water that spewed from the massaging showerhead eased the stiffness in her muscles. By the time she finished washing her hair, the lethargy threatening to overwhelm her vanished. As she pulled her arms through the fuzzy sleeves of her robe, she heard a series of knocks.

“Coming,” she called, tightening the belt around her robe. A quick glance through the peephole revealed a striking blonde waving a large wine bottle. Emily unlocked the deadbolt and peered around the door. “Can I help you?” she asked, not widening the gap between the door and frame. As she took stock of her visitors, she tried not to let her mouth fall open.

The tall, willowy blonde standing in the center of the doorway her was perhaps the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Long blonde hair curled around the woman’s shoulders, and china doll blue eyes twinkled in a perfectly oval face. Sparkling white teeth made the woman’s smile even more dazzling. Perfectly matched shorts and top, both of peacock blue silk, completed the woman’s attire.

The second woman, a brunette, was also attractive, although it was obvious that she wasn’t quite in the blonde’s league. Emily covered her gasp with a cough when she realized that the woman’s garb left far more body exposed than covered. The feature that drew most attention was the woman’s long, shapely legs, shown to full advantage by her miniskirt. Bright red toenails stuck out of platform shoes, and the second toe of each foot sported a ring embedded with what looked like diamonds. A flimsy cotton shirt was tied under the woman’s breasts, which strained to burst free of the undersized garment.

“Hi,” the blonde goddess greeted Emily. “I’m Kate; this is Meg. We thought we’d welcome you to the complex.” She peered at the towel still wrapped around Emily’s head. “Looks like we came at a bad time.”

“I was just getting out of the shower,” Emily explained, touching the towel self-consciously.

“Sorry. Tell you what. Why don’t you come over once you’re dressed and join us for a glass of wine?” She motioned to the apartment on Emily’s left. “I live next door; Meg’s a couple doors down.”

The brunette raised her left hand in greeting. “Meg Sammons,” she said with a wide grin. “Nice to meet you. You have to come,” she continued. “I’ve been trying to get Kate to uncork that bottle for weeks.”

Emily laughed and shook her head. “Okay. Give me ten minutes.”

“Great,” Kate agreed. “See you in a few.”

Emily took her time blow-drying her hair, being careful not to bring the warm air too close to her skull. Styling gel added height to her short locks and allowed her to camouflage the ugly disfiguration that started an inch behind her forehead. The surgeon had done wonders patching her skull back together after the accident, but she still had to be careful not to touch the scar.

Laughter and splashing sounds drifted in from the pool area as she stepped onto the walkway. Her lips curved into a smile as she listened to the women cheering on the men playing water polo. At least the people in this complex were a gregarious bunch, which made a definite improvement from her apartment in El Cajon. Apart from the time she’d been out gambling with the women in the building, the only laughter she’d ever overheard was from groups of children playing ball. “In for a penny, in for a pound,” she thought mockingly as she knocked on her neighbor’s door.

A blast of rock music greeted her as Meg opened the door. “Come on in,” she called, dragging Emily into the apartment. “Hope you like hard rock. This one’s a new CD from my favorite group, The Bonegrabbers,” she called out over the beat of the drum solo reverberating through Kate’s apartment.

Emily winced in pain, as the loud music assaulted her sensitive hearing, and clasped her hands protectively over her ears. “Could you please turn it down?” she shouted over the noise. “I’m recovering from an accident, and loud noises hurt my ears. Sorry, but unless you turn down the volume, I’ll have to leave.”

“Thank God somebody besides me can’t stand rock,” Kate chimed in as she switched the unit over to a classical station. She held out a long-stemmed wine glass, rimmed with gold. “You okay Emily? You look kind of pale.”

Emily gingerly loosened her fingers. “Yeah. That’s a lot better, thanks. I hate to ruin your music, but I can’t handle any loud noises. Gives me migraines,” she explained, accepting the outstretched glass.

As she waited for Kate to uncork the wine, Emily allowed her gaze to wander across the living room. Kate’s apartment was ablaze with varying shades of terra cotta. Instead of pictures, she’d opted for bronze wall plaques. Grecian and Roman sculptures, in varying sizes, sat on marble tables. It was obvious that Kate either had a well-paying job or came from a wealthy family.

“I like your apartment,” Emily said. “It’s elegant without being overstated. Reminds me of all the mythological tales I read as a child.”

Kate’s smile deepened as the three women chose their seats. “Thanks. Before I came here I traveled extensively through Europe and picked up most of my statues in Greece and Rome.”

“Do you still travel?”

“Not like I used to,” Kate replied with a sigh. “Now it seems like all I do is work, sleep, and go back to work,” she complained.

“I know what you mean,” Meg agreed. “I’ve been working fifteen- and sixteen-hour days for over a month, and it’s killing me.” She took a sip of wine. “Mmmmm. This stuff is gorgeous, Kate. I wish you’d tell me where you get it.”

Kate laughed. “No way, Meg. The minute I gave out that information, you’d be hounding those folks for a case of this stuff.”

“Are you a dancer?” Emily asked, noting the graceful wave of Meg’s arms whenever she gestured.

“Well, sort of. I’m a showgirl, which means I do almost everything they ask me to,” Meg teased. “What about you, Emily? What do you do?”

Emily toyed with her glass. “I used to be a special effects artist for a movie company,” she explained in a voice she prayed was normal. “But a car accident made that work impossible for me to do anymore, so I’m kind of in between careers. I love flowers and color, so I’ll probably look for a job in some kind of florist shop.”

Meg drained her glass. “I saw your Jeep in the parking lot and noticed you haven’t changed your license plate yet. You know that you’ll have to do that pretty quick, now that you’re living here, right?”