No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7 (51 page)

“After a run, I usually take a quick
shower.”

“Is that an invitation?” Jasper
wanted to know.

Chapter Seven
--

“I’m just saying....”

“Relax, Dawkins. It was a joke. I
told you I respect you as a woman,” he reminded me. “I have no
problem with you taking a shower after we run. I’ll take one, too.
And then we’ll hit the town.”

By five, I was itching to get out of
the office. Ned kept piling papers on my desk and peppering me with
questions. Finally he asked me where I was going in such a
rush.

“Home.”

“Just home?”

“I’m going for a run with a
friend.”

“Is that friend a guy, by any
chance?” His eyebrows shot up expectantly.

“Maybe,” I grinned.

“Jasper?”

“Could be.”

“For a guy who blew you off, he’s
certainly changed his tune. I thought he was married.”

“Nope. Has a girlfriend, but they
seem to be going their separate ways. He came back because his
brother-in-law died. He’s here to help his sister with her three
kids. That’s why his mother’s moving to Glendale, too.”

“Family-oriented. That’s a plus.
Just don’t get your hopes up. If he’s got a relationship, he could
choose to go back to it, kiddo. You don’t want your heart
broken.”

“True.” Ned had a point. There was
no reason to think that Jasper was a free agent just yet. I decided
to go with the running buddy route. I would keep it light and
casual, but I would be the good friend in the frayed jeans and tee
shirt.

I got home with barely ten minutes
to spare, and as I waited, I changed my running shorts three times,
finally settling on a hot pink pair. Just as I threw on a white
tank top, I heard a knock at my door. Grabbing my running shoes and
socks, I hurried out into the living room to let him in.

“Welcome,” I greeted him, throwing
open the door. Jasper stepped in, gazing around my living
room.

“You guys do the reno on
this?”

“We did.”

“Nice.”

I gave him a quick tour, pointing
out the view of the bay from my living room balcony and my pride
and joy, the adjoining turret, with its many windows, where I had a
dining table and chairs. He liked my raised gas fireplace, with its
sea glass tile surround. I had carried that design element into the
kitchen, where I had chosen a limestone porcelain tile, accented
with shell-embossed tiles and tiny sea glass mosaic tiles. I shared
with him the special features of my compact kitchen, from the
rollout pantry to the dishwasher drawer.

“A lot of singles only fill their
dishwashers once a week or run them more often than necessary. The
smaller drawer lets me keep up with the washing, but it saves me
water and electricity. It’s really convenient, considering the
kitchen is so small.”

I showed him the bedroom with its
angled ceilings and well-outfitted walk-in closet. I also showed
him the adjoining bathroom, with the view of the ocean from the
step-up tub. He asked me about storage, so I showed him the
built-ins that were tucked throughout the space.

“And there you have it.”

“I like it. It’s architecturally
interesting, but efficient. I think you’ll be able to come up with
a winning design for June. Maybe you could walk her through these
same kinds of options.”

“I’d be happy to show her the many,
many, many options,” I agreed. He laughed at the emphasis. “Shall
we head out?”

We started at a light trot, running
side by side down the quiet lanes, chatting as we ran. Jasper was a
good head taller than me, but he slowed his pace to meet my stride.
We made it to Glengarry Court in about fifteen minutes. Removing
the key from my pocket, I slipped it into the back door. I wanted
to start in the kitchen, saving the best -- the master bedroom --
for last. Out of habit, I made sure the door locked behind
me.

“Afraid the bogey man will sneak
in?” Jasper teased.

“Actually, I once got cornered by a
stranger who let himself in when I was working at a place by
myself. Ever since, I’m overly cautious.”

“Oh, Suzanne, I
apologize.”

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “It was
a long time ago.”

As we moved from room to room, I
explained each phase of the preliminary plan for changes. Jasper
posed several questions about the expected construction, wanting to
know the rationale for this choice or that. I took him down to the
basement and showed him the laundry area and the spot where I
wanted to put in a cedar closet. He informed me he’d prefer a
washer and dryer on the first floor for June, so he wouldn’t have
to worry about her falling down the stairs while carrying a laundry
basket.

“There might be enough room in the
bathroom,” I told him, as we headed back upstairs. I explained that
my original idea was to put in both a shower and soaking tub. “We
could lose one or the other and install a laundry
closet.”

I paced out the space, showing him
there was room for a full-sized stacked set or possibly a pair of
side-by-sides. I was about to give him a rundown on the types of
machines when he hushed me.

“Shh!” Jasper put a finger to his
lips and stopped moving. A floor board squeaked as someone moved
stealthily through the house. I held my breath as we waited to see
what specter would appear. The footsteps suddenly stopped. A moment
later, we heard them retreat. Jasper was out the bathroom door and
through the hallway in a flash. By the time he reached the kitchen,
the back door was wide open.

“I’ll bet it’s Sullivan,” I told
him. Jasper leaned past me and looked out the kitchen window at the
fleeing figure.

“And you would be right. He must
have a key to the place.”

“We’ll change the locks tomorrow,” I
decided. “I’ll let Ned know.”

“Good idea. We should nip the bad
behavior in the bud, before he gets any more
territorial.”

We locked the door again and then
continued the house tour, inspecting the bedrooms. We finished up
on the sun porch. Jasper thought June would make it a cozy den for
watching television and the perfect place for all of her
houseplants.

“Ned wants to reconnect the sun
porch to the kitchen.”

“That would help a lot,” Jasper
decided. “Much more convenient than going back through the house
every time you want to go to the kitchen.”

I agreed as we retraced our steps.
Standing on the back stairs, I locked up as Jasper watched
me.

“You know, we could grab a couple of
lobster rolls, Suzanne, if you’re in the mood.”

“Sounds good.”

“See? I’m a casual kind of guy,”
Jasper grinned. “And you thought I was going to take you out for a
stuffy meal at a snooty French restaurant, with a menu you can’t
pronounce and waiters that give you the bum’s rush.”

“Hey, I like French food,” I told
him as we started to trot. “I’m actually a decent cook. I make a
mean ratatouille.”

“Do you? I’ll be the judge of that,”
he replied. “Invite me the next time you make it, and I’ll give you
my official decision.”

Twenty minutes later, we finished on
Seaside Avenue, leisurely cooling off at the end of our run by
walking along the boardwalk until we got to Hanover Street, where
we crossed the street and waited our turn at Mel’s Crab Hut. The
line was ten deep, but it moved quickly enough. We placed our
order, waited a few minutes, and picked it up at the window when
our number was called.

“Beach or picnic table?” Jasper
asked me. I looked across the street at the sandy beach, where the
surfers were coming and going, and then at the crowded tables on
the lawn at Mel’s. For me, it was an easy decision.

“Beach.”

We carried our cardboard trays the
hundred yards across the street. There was a beautiful orange glow
painting the low-lying clouds that hovered above the sea. It felt
good to have my toes in the sand. I noticed he seemed more relaxed
here, too. We settled down, cross-legged, and opened the
packages.

“What’s your girlfriend like?” I
wanted to know. I bit into my lobster roll with gusto.

“Not like you,” were the words out
of his mouth before he could stop himself. A look of shock came
over his face as he realized what he had said. “I didn’t mean it in
a negative way. At least not about you.”

“Okay,” I laughed nervously, not
sure where this was going. “Let’s try again. What’s she
like?”

“Very focused on her work,” he
said.

“And I’m not?”

“You’re a lot...warmer. You’re not
just focused on your job, you’re focused on the people around
you.”

“Oh,” I nodded. “And that’s a good
thing?”

“Eva is rather like a train with a
powerful engine. There’s not a lot of negotiating about where the
train’s going once the engine starts. She’s very determined and you
can’t knock her off course when she makes up her mind.”

“That seems rather unyielding,” I
commented. It was all I could do to not say she sounded like a
bitch.

“Actually, Eva is in the silver
circle for financial planners who bring in more than $50 million
dollars in client assets a year for the firm to manage. She’s a big
success.”

“And yet, you have your
doubts.”

“Maybe,” he replied. “She has some
good points. She’s very efficient and goal-oriented. She always
donates at least fifteen percent of her salary to charity. And she
teaches finance at the university level.”

“So far, she sounds like a great
business woman. What’s she like as a person?”

“Once you get to know her, she warms
up.”

“That makes it sound like she can be
cold.”

“Sometimes. She doesn’t suffer fools
gladly.”

“Can I give you some unsolicited
advice?” As I leaned forward, I accidentally brushed against him,
our arms touching. “From one running buddy to another? You’re the
kind of guy who would move back to his hometown to help his sister
out. You’re the kind of guy who looks for just the right house for
his mother. You’re a people person. Shouldn’t your wife also be
like that? Otherwise, you’re going to be one miserable guy. It
doesn’t really matter how successful a woman is if you’re not happy
being with her.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,”
Jasper said wryly, watching the waves roll in. I wasn’t sure if I
had overstepped my bounds in criticizing his relationship. The
truth was I thought he deserved a better woman, even if it wasn’t
me.

“Let me guess. Eva’s hot. Long legs,
long hair, big boobs, and a butt that doesn’t jiggle. Am I
close?”

He took a long swig on his bottle of
Orangina and smiled, like he was remembering how she looked. I
wanted to kick myself for reminding him what he didn’t have at the
moment.

“Something like that,” he agreed,
crunching on a kettle chip.

“I will never, as long as I live,
understand you men. There is more to life than a woman who looks
good naked!”

“Are you sure about
that?”

“There’s friendship,” I pointed out.
“It’s nice to have someone to spend time with out of
bed.”

“That’s why I’ve got my buddies. We
play basketball twice a week and golf on Saturdays and
Sundays.”

“Companionship,” I
continued.

“I’ve got a dog. He doesn’t bitch
when I come home late or leave the toilet seat up.”

“You can’t dance with a dog,” I
pointed out. “You need a warm, willing partner to hold in your
arms, someone who will follow your lead and move to your
rhythm.”

“Who says I want to
dance?”

“How can you not want to dance?” I
said incredulously. “Dancing is the ultimate intimacy.”

“I’m pretty sure sex qualifies as
that. Two people going at it....”

“You can have sex with someone you
don’t care about,” I insisted. “You can go through the motions and
when you’re done, you don’t know anything about the other person.
But you can’t dance effectively without working with your partner.
You learn to understand the subtle signals that pass between you,
to read your partner’s body language, to anticipate the next move.
Dancing with the right person is pure romance at its finest. It’s
the physical, non-verbal language of love.”

“Hardly,” Jasper sniffed. “Dancing
is overrated.”

Chapter Eight
--

“Wow,” I sighed. “You don’t have a
romantic bone in your body, do you?”

“Why? Because I’m not a
dancer?”

“No, because you’re a cold fish. You
think women are only good for one thing. How sad is
that?”

“Relax, Dawkins. I’m yanking your
chain.”

“You are?” I studied his face.
“Why?”

“Because it’s fun to see you get so
fired up.”

“Hmm.” I wondered if that meant he
was flirting with me. Maybe he was just a big tease with every
woman. Maybe his girlfriend was on the way out of his heart. Maybe
I was inventing hope where there was none. I took a stab in the
dark. “Does that mean Eva’s not hot?”