Life Is A Beach (Mills & Boon Silhouette): Life Is A Beach / A Real-thing Fling (13 page)

“Thanks, Goldy. I’ll think about it.” Karma breezed out the door before Goldy could impart any more helpful advice.

She walked briskly to Nate’s hotel, where his buddies in the lobby told her that he and Mrs. Rothstein had gone to the cemetery. She left a note for him and hurried back to the Rent-a-Yenta office, where she supposed it was time to write checks on her meager bank account, a chore she always dreaded because the available funds never seemed to stretch far enough to cover the expenses.

She ran up the stairs and pulled out her key. But she didn’t need to use it because the door was already open.

I really must get that lock fixed,
she told herself, and then she stopped cold in the doorway, staring in disbelief.

The slim, small-boned woman with the sleek auburn hair who was sitting at Karma’s desk with her back to the door swiveled around and grinned up at her.

“Hello, Karma
! Long time no see,” chirped her cousin Paulette.

P
AULETTE HAD IMPROVED
considerably since their childhood days back in the old neighborhood. She had stopped biting her fingernails. She had straightened her hair. With her Blahnik shoes and short tight skirt, she could have been an advertisement for the TV show,
Sex and the City.
And she was in need at the moment, which was why Karma felt true sympathy for her.

“I got fired because the boss’s wife was jealous,” Paulette said philosophically over lox and bagels at the deli. “Not that I was anyone to be jealous of, mind you. But then my boyfriend broke up with me because I couldn’t pay my share of the rent, so I not only lost him but the roof over my head. I’ve been through my share of misery, and when I told Uncle Nate that I wanted to drive down to Miami Beach—”

“Uncle Nate knew you were coming? He didn’t mention it.”

“I phoned to tell you, Karma, but you never called back.”

Guiltily Karma recalled Paulette’s phone message. “I
am
glad to see you, Paulette. Come on, I’ll show you my place.” She slid out of the booth.

Paulette looked pathetically eager. “I’d like that,” she said, and on the way back to the Blue Moon, she tripped eagerly along in Karma’s wake like a puppy.

“With all the pink and aqua and blue paint everywhere, I feel like I’m visiting Barbie’s Dream House,” Paulette
exclaimed when she saw the Blue Moon, which Karma felt was stretching its allure considerably.

As Karma ushered her into her little apartment on the third floor, Paulette oohed and aahed over the minuscule view of the ocean. She loved Karma’s shower curtain, which was fashioned from Indian print fabric bought at a yard sale. She exclaimed enthusiastically over the three-paneled shoji screen that Karma had set up to divide the dining area from the living room, and she especially liked the lace curtain that Karma had draped over it for softness.

“Karma,” Paulette said in a pleading tone, “would you mind if I stayed with you? Uncle Nate has a guest room, but I’d rather be here. He’s sweet, don’t get me wrong, but you and I have a lot more in common.”

Karma dumped a package of soy nuts into a dish and tried to think of a reason why Paulette was not welcome. She could think of none that would hold water. “Okay,” she said, then wondered how long it would take her to regret it.

As it turned out, Paulette had left her yellow VW bug in the Blue Moon’s parking lot and her duffel downstairs behind Goldy’s desk, and before Karma could change her mind, Paulette had shlepped her duffel into the living room, where she swore she didn’t mind sleeping on the pull-out couch.

Karma, though busy with Paulette, had thought that maybe Slade would call that afternoon. He was supposed to go out with Jennifer that night. But he didn’t call, and she grew more jittery as afternoon segued into late afternoon and late afternoon shifted into dusk and dusk became darkness.

“Let’s go out and you can show me South Beach,” Paulette said eagerly after dinner. “It looks like a fun place.”

Karma finished drying the few dishes they’d used and started putting them in the cabinet. “Oh, I’m not in the
mood for a big night out,” she said, the fear that they would run into Slade and Jennifer heavy on her mind.

“Come on, Karma, I’ve heard so much about South Beach,” Paulette wheedled, pulling the pout that Karma used to hate so much.

Karma kept her tone brisk. “You can go if you like. I’ll phone a couple of my friends, see if they’d like some company.” She knew that Mandi was probably free tonight, since Jennifer was out with Slade.

Even thinking about Slade and Jennifer together made Karma feel miserable, and to know that she herself had set it up made her feel slightly sick to her stomach. Right now Slade and Jennifer were probably dancing cheek to cheek to a wonderful band, and Jennifer was rubbing her artificial nipples against Slade’s shirtfront, and Slade was wondering,
what the hell—?
Later, they might kiss, their tongues getting tied up in the traffic of it. The thought of Slade’s tongue tangling with anyone else’s made her drop a plate, which broke into little bits that scattered across the tiny kitchen’s floor. She knelt to pick them up.

“Karma?” said Paulette, coming to the door of the kitchen. “You look so pale.”

“I—I—” but at that moment, a mental image of Slade wrapping his arms around Jennifer burst across her mind, and all she could think of was that she had made a terrible, stupid mistake. She had thrown the two of them together, and if Slade fell in love with Jennifer, it would serve her, Karma, right. He wouldn’t know those were artificial nipples. He wouldn’t know if Jennifer was good in bed or not. So why wouldn’t he want to find out? Why wouldn’t he go as far as Jennifer would let him, which was probably about as far as you
could
go?

At the thought of Slade’s making love to anyone else, especially Jennifer, Karma suddenly burst into sobs and groped her way onto the kitchen stool, the seat of which happened to be covered with dishtowels and scraps of old
aluminum foil that she’d been planning to put away as soon as she found a place for them. It wasn’t so comfortable, but maybe she wasn’t supposed to be comfortable. Maybe she was supposed to suffer for not being more encouraging to Slade.

Paulette, whom she’d almost forgotten about in her teary-eyed travail, was kneeling beside her and peering up into her face. “Karma? What’s wrong? Karma, I’ve never seen you like this.”

Karma yanked one of the dish towels out from under her and blotted her eyes. “Paulette,” she said, never dreaming that she was going to say it until the words were out of her mouth, “I—I think I’m in l-love.”

“I
hate
it when that happens,” said Paulette, her eyes wide. “Want to tell me about it?”

Karma gulped. “I have no business being in love with this man. We’re so different, and I have to make a go of Rent-a-Yenta, and—and—” She began to sob again, undone by the sheer impossibility of the situation.

“Come into the living room and spill the details,” urged Paulette, and Karma could almost believe that her cousin was the one with the degrees in psychology, so empathetic and helpful was she. And so Karma told Paulette about Slade and how she had met him and how they had gone out in
Toy Boat’s Toy
and been stranded in the storm. She told about the stilt house and the game of sexual Scrabble, which made Paulette howl with laughter. And she even told Paulette how they had made love and how special it had been for her and for him.

This interested Paulette more than Karma had anticipated, but then, women talked about these things. It was just that Karma had lacked a man to talk about for a really long time.

“Why was it so special with Slade?” Paulette wanted to know.

“Well,
you know.”

“No, I don’t, actually.”

Karma twisted the damp dishtowel in her lap. “He, um, knew all the right buttons to push, so to speak.”

Paulette’s eyes widened. “You mean—?”

“Yes. The very spot. The Gosh-he-found-it spot. The Goody-he-knows-what-to-do-with-it spot.
You
know.”

“Golly gee. I think I do.”

They looked at each other and laughed.

“He sounds marvelous,” Paulette said when they had both calmed down. “So what’s the problem?”

“I told you—we’re too different for this to work out.”

“He’s looking for a wife. Why
can’t
it be you?”

“Maybe he thinks so, but I don’t. And get this, Paulette, he invited me to his ranch. To meet his parents.”

“You’re going, of course.”

“I have to,” Karma said. “I had to promise I’d go before he’d agree to a date with Jennifer. And now they’re living it
up
together somewhere on South Beach, which I suppose is better than
living
together, but who knows what could happen?”

Paulette managed to look very wise. “If he’s been chasing after you as diligently as you say, I doubt that he’s enjoying his date with this Jennifer.”

Karma sniffed disconsolately. “She looks exactly like the ideal woman he described to me. Besides, she has artificial nipples.”

Paulette was mystified by this statement until Karma haltingly explained the conversation wherein Karma had told Jennifer where to shop for such embellishments, and then Paulette started to whoop with laughter again.

“It’s not funny,” Karma said, beginning to feel huffy.

Paulette managed to contain her mirth. “Of course not. But listen, Karma, I’ll take care of Rent-a-Yenta while you’re at the ranch with Slade. I’ll finish painting that wall, the one that’s half lime-green, and I’ll see if I can straighten out the checking account for you. And if Jennifer comes
around, I’ll find her a date with someone, anyone, to get her off the scent of Slade Braddock. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a godsend,” Karma said, beginning to feel more hopeful.

“I’ll neaten up this apartment too, and get a lot of your stuff put away. It’ll be fun. I need something to do to keep busy, and I’m a good organizer, you’ll see. Now how about if you show me where to find the sheets for this bed? We could both use a good night’s sleep, I think.”

Karma and Paulette made up the couch bed, and then Karma headed for the bedroom. Before she went to brush her teeth, she paused in the doorway and turned toward Paulette, who was propped up against the back of the couch reading the
Wall Street Journal.
Her heart softened toward her cousin. She and Paulette weren’t the first women in the world to bond over guy troubles, but it was a pleasant surprise that the two of them had reached a point in their lives where they could actually be girlfriends.

“Paulette,” she said slowly, “I really appreciate your help. You’re a lot different than you were when we were kids, and you’re being a good friend to me.”

Paulette lowered the newspaper. “I know,” she said with an arch little smile.

Well, people might change for the better, Karma thought wryly, but if they were smug to begin with, they were likely to remain smug later.

Whatever, she was glad that Paulette had turned up. She’d meant what she’d said—that Paulette was being a good friend. And it was wonderful to have a girlfriend in her camp right now.

T
HE NEXT DAY
, S
LADE ARRIVED
to pick her up for
the visit to the ranch. Paulette walked them to the lobby, and while Slade and Paulette were chatting, Goldy beckoned to Karma. “Here,” she said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone as she pressed a small brown package into Karma’s hand. “Inside are four crystals. Put one in each corner of your bedroom at Slade’s house, and they will increase the good vibes.”

“No,” Karma hissed. “His parents are bound to be very conservative. What if they found out? They’d think I’m nutsoid.”

Goldy took the crystals back. “Suit yourself. The sundress looks lovely, by the way.” She winked at Karma as she waved them off.

Karma wasn’t so sure, but at least the dress showed off her suntan, and she had to admit that it was an appropriate choice for meeting Slade’s parents.

Because of the usual Miami Beach traffic, it took them a while to get across the causeway to the mainland. After they passed the upscale buildings and lush foliage along the bayside drive, Miami showed its grimy backside in a blur of glaring strip malls and fast-food places, making it a relief to emerge on the west side of the city where traffic thinned out. Slade headed the Suburban northwest on a route that pierced straight through the Everglades toward Lake Okeechobee.

The Saturday afternoon sun glinted on the shallow water flowing between the spears of sawgrass in the canals on either side of the road. Overhead the sky was a soaring blue dome, and Karma, fresh from declaring her love for Slade to Paulette, tried to relax as she rode along beside him.

It wasn’t easy to remain calm. She felt self-conscious; she felt in awe of this man. His hands gripping the steering wheel were strong and sinewy, and his jaw looked rock-solid.

“Relax,” he said, reaching over and clasping her hand in his. She knew that he must have sensed that she was nervous, and her palm immediately began to perspire. Should she pull her hand away? If she did, would he read
that as rejection? Or should she let their joined palms grow sticky in the spirit of togetherness? Maybe she could squeeze his hand and then pull hers away, pretending that she needed to brush her hair back from her face. But that wouldn’t fool him—she had another hand that would work for that.

He solved the problem by dropping her hand and giving it a little pat. What did
that
mean? She felt like an awkward teenager out on her first date with the captain of the football team.

“Tell me what Paulette offered to do again?”

“She said she’d balance the Rent-a-Yenta books, rearrange the client videos in alphabetical order, and that she’d play pinochle with Uncle Nate. She also cleaned my toaster oven this morning.”

“Well, hey, she sounds okay to me. Why don’t you get along with her?”

Karma shrugged, feeling guilty. “When my sisters and I were kids, Paulette was always so prissy and perfect. She tattled about everything we did, and we made her the butt of our jokes. But now…” Her sentence tapered off as she recalled Paulette’s eagerness to help.

“Now you feel sorry for her, right?”

Karma nodded. “I’ve been fired before. It’s not fun.”

“Did she say how long she’s staying?”

“No, but Paulette’s parents aren’t prepared for her to move home to Connecticut. Which Paulette doesn’t want to do anyway.” But Paulette had not yet met a palmetto bug, so she was still enthralled with Florida. So far, anyway. And she had urged Karma to stay in Okeechobee as long as she liked.

“Don’t worry,” Paulette had said over toast and juice that morning. “Maybe I’ll even figure out a way to make Rent-a-Yenta more profitable. I didn’t get a degree in business for nothing.”

“You’re
a real peach, Paulette,” Karma told her.

“I know,” Paulette had replied, but Karma was getting used to that.

Slade cleared his throat. “I guess you’re wondering about my date with Jennifer,” he said.