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Authors: Mary Kay Andrews

Savannah Breeze (26 page)

BOOK: Savannah Breeze
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I ran my fingers through his coarse brown hair. “Just how old
are
you?”

“How old are
you
?” he asked, tracing my lips with his fingertips.

“No fair. I asked first.”

“Too old to be called cute,” he said.

“Come on,” I said. “It's time for full disclosure. I'm thirty-five.”

“Hot damn,” Harry said, kissing me again. “Past the age of consent.”

“Way past,” I assured him. “Stop dodging the issue.”

“How old do you think I am?”

I took a step backward, then circled slowly around him, taking a careful survey.

“Nice ass,” I said thoughtfully, letting my fingertips brush against it. I squeezed his biceps. “Muscular build.” I was standing in front of him. “May I?” I said, trying the top button on his sport shirt.

“Be my guest,” he said. “Just so you know, it's my turn next.”

“Hmm,” I said, deliberately noncommittal. I took my time with the buttons. “Nice pecs,” I said, trailing my fingers over his nipples. The chest hair, as I'd remembered from seeing him work around the Breeze, was salt and pepper gray. But he had just the right amount, not clean-shaven professional figure skater, and not bath-mat furry either.

“You've got gray hair,” I said.

“All over,” he agreed. “Want to see the rest?” He reached for the waistband of his slacks.

“Not necessary,” I said, covering his hand with mine.

He kissed me hungrily, and then murmured in my ear, “Lady, if I'd known this age-guessing thing could be this much fun, I'd have stayed all day at the county fair.”

“Okay,” I said, holding his face between my hands. “I'm ready.”

“Not as ready as I am,” he said, running his hands up under my blouse.

“You're forty-eight.”

“Wrong,” he said quickly. “Maybe you better take some more of my clothes off and try again. Or, I could take some of yours off.” He pulled me in the direction of the chaise longues we'd just vacated.

A door opened in one of the units then, and an elderly woman emerged with a tiny white poodle under her arm. “Hurry up and make tinkle, Snuffy. Mama wants to go to bed.”

She set the dog down and he promptly trotted over to where we were standing and looked up at us.

“Hurry up, Snuffy,” Harry urged in a low voice.

But Snuffy wasn't going anywhere. He circled us twice, sniffing at our legs, then sat down on his haunches and wagged his tail.

“Snuffy!” his mistress called.

But Snuffy wasn't going anywhere. He'd made new friends and he wasn't anxious to abandon us anytime soon.

“Go, already,” Harry said, groaning.

I bent down and scratched the top of the poodle's ear, and he responded by flopping over on his back. Harry nudged him a little with the toe of his deck shoe.

“Stop,” I said, laughing despite myself. “Come on, I thought you said you were sleepy. It's getting late, and I need to get to bed.”

“That's what I had in mind,” Harry said, pulling me back toward the chaise longues.

“No deal,” I said, freeing myself and heading back toward my room.

“Hey, look,” Harry called.

I turned around. Snuffy was lifting a leg on a palm tree.

“Too late,” I said.

He was beside me in a minute. “Let's go to my room,” he said. “You still haven't correctly guessed my age.”

“My grandfather is sharing your room,” I reminded him. “I don't want to give him a heart attack.”

“He's eighty years old. He's probably been asleep for hours,” Harry said. “We can be very quiet.”

“You don't know Granddad,” I told him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him. “Sorry, but we're going to have to continue this discussion another time.”

“You could sneak in later, after he's asleep,” Harry suggested. “Take advantage of me.”

“Nope.”

“I could sneak into your room and take advantage of you.”

“Sorry. I've got a roommate too.”

“I could rent another room.”

“Maybe another time. Good night, Harry,” I said, opening my door. “Sleep tight.”

Hours later,
I heard the faint click of the connecting door between our rooms, and smiled groggily to myself through the mist of sleep. Prince Charming had arrived. I congratulated myself on having slipped into a vintage pink satin nightie donated to me by Weezie, and prayed that my roomie, who was one of the soundest sleepers I'd ever met, would stay asleep.

“Hey!” Granddad announced.

I rolled over and opened one eye. He stood in the open doorway, fully dressed in another pair of knee-length Bermuda shorts—this time with vivid purple-and-orange flowers—a shrunken white T-shirt that said “I (heart) NY,” and white rubber zori sandals. At least he'd ditched the calf-length dark socks.

“Hey, Granddad,” I whispered. “What time is it?”

“Nine o'clock,” he bellowed. “I was worried you two were dead over here.”

I sat up and looked at the clock radio. It was indeed nine o'clock.

Granddad strolled over to the windows and jerked the drapes open, blinding me with a blast of nuclear-grade sunshine.

“What?” Weezie jumped out of bed. “What's wrong? Is something wrong?”

“It's nearly noon,” Granddad said. “I want to get some breakfast in before lunchtime. But the milk and orange juice are in your refrigerator.”

“Oh.” She sank back down onto the bed. “Is it really nine o'clock?”

“Afraid so,” I told her, yawning and stretching. “Guess we overslept.”

“I'll say,” Granddad said. “Half the day is gone. Thought we had a criminal to catch today.” He opened the tiny refrigerator and peered inside.

“I'll fix you some breakfast, Granddad,” I said. “Just let me shower and dress.”

“I'll get it,” Weezie offered, padding over to the kitchenette area. “You get showered and then I'll take my turn.”

“Where's Harry?” I said, as though it was an afterthought.

“Gone,” Granddad said.

“Gone where?” This time I wasn't nearly as offhanded.

“Don't know. I went in the bathroom to put my teeth in, and when I got back, he'd cleared out. Made his bed before he left, though. Nice fella, that Harry.”

I went to the window and looked out. I spotted the corner of the Buick through the leaves of a huge flowering shrub. “He didn't take the car,” I said, feeling relieved.

Weezie held up two boxes. “Cap'n Crunch or raisin bran?”

“Better make it raisin bran,” Granddad decided. “I get a little stoved up when I travel. Lorena usually makes me eat prunes when we go on a trip.”

“Good to know,” Weezie said, pouring the raisin bran into a pink plastic bowl.

I hurried into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Where had Harry gone? I wondered as I washed my hair. Could he really have run off, just as things were starting to get interesting between us?

No, I decided, toweling off, and sliding into a pair of white jeans and a turquoise top that Weezie had picked up at a thrift store during her shopping tour the previous day. He couldn't get far without a car, and anyway, hadn't he been the first one to make a move the night
before? If he got scared off by a little harmless kissing and fooling around, I didn't need him in my life. Hadn't I sworn off men? What was I thinking?

I took a critical look at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. What was there to run from? I was a reasonably attractive woman. My hair was nearly a natural blond, I had good skin—although I tend to get a little ashy after too much sun—I had blue eyes and thick, dark eyelashes. My eyebrows were probably too dark for my hair color, but I couldn't afford to have them professionally lightened right now. My upper lip was maybe a little too full and pouty, but every man I'd ever dated claimed that was a turn-on.

So just what the hell was Harry Sorrentino's problem? And why did he have to disappear—right now, just when we needed every hand available if we were to make this scam of mine run properly?

Screw him, I decided, rubbing styling gel into my towel-dried hair. Weezie and Granddad and I would have to pull off the con without Harry. I couldn't do anything to make him stay. But I'd be damned if I'd be in a hurry to pay him the back wages he said he was owed. Let him wait.

Screw Harry Sorrentino.

I stormed out of the bathroom and into my room—and right into the man of the hour's arms. In fact, I nearly knocked him down.

“Hey!” he said, when he got a look at my tightly clamped jaw. “What's with you?”

“What's with you?” I said, in the morning's most brilliant bit of repartee. “Where have you been?”

“What, did I miss bed check?” He carefully peeled off a section of the orange he was eating and offered it to me.

“You did it again,” I said, batting the orange slice away. “Just disappeared. Without a word to anybody.”

He looked from me to Weezie, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed, reading what looked like a newspaper classified section.

“Did she wake up with a bug up her butt this morning, or is it just me?” he asked.

“She has abandonment issues,” Weezie offered.

“I do
not
!”

“She's just not a morning person,” Granddad put in. “You shoulda seen her when she was a baby. She used to howl like a stuck pig when her mama took her out of her crib every morning. Cute little thing, but mean as a snake until she got some formula in her.”

“He disappeared!” I said, looking for some support from my best friend and my oldest living relative. “Doesn't anybody else find that alarming? Especially when we have so much to do and time is so short?”

“I'm okay with it,” Weezie said. “He brought me the
Sun-Sentinel
want ads. I can't believe how many estate sales there are today. And a chocolate croissant!”

“He brought me some good ripe bananas,” Granddad said, peeling one. “I bet if you sweeten up a little, you'll get a present too.”

Harry held out a white paper sack. “This was going to be your chocolate croissant. But considering your mood…”

I snatched the bag away from him. “All right. Maybe I was a little hasty. Maybe I need a cup of coffee or a diet Coke.”

He handed me an icy can of diet Coke. “Like this?”

“You're good,” I admitted.

“I went to an Internet cafe to do some research,” Harry said.

“What kind of research?”

He picked up a sheaf of papers from the kitchenette counter. “These are all the BUC listings for yachts for sale for over two million.”

“Wow,” I said, glancing through the papers. “This is great.”

“Don't be so sure,” Harry said. “There are plenty of big, expensive boats for sale in Lauderdale. All over South Florida, in fact. But there are currently only two Sea Urchins for sale in the whole state. One of
them is in Fort Myers. Which is on the west coast. The other is in Jacksonville.”

I took the croissant out of the bag and broke off a piece and nibbled at it while I thought. “This isn't good.”

Harry sipped from a Styrofoam cup of coffee and watched me. “I also checked the boat ads in the
Sun-Sentinel
. Nothing doing. And I picked up one of those boat-shopper magazines too. Still nothing. Does it absolutely have to be a Sea Urchin? What about a Feadship? Middle Eastern sheiks and rap stars own Feadships. They had one being refitted at the shipyard in Thunderbolt last year. They're pretty swell.”

“All I know is, the guy has a thing for Sea Urchins,” I said. “Maybe he would flip for another kind of yacht. I just don't know where to start.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Where does that leave us?”

“We still need to find out where Reddy's living,” I reminded him. “Sabrina said it was only ten minutes from Mark's, on Las Olas.”

“I know where that is,” Weezie volunteered. “I saw it while we were driving around doing our shopping yesterday.”

“The road is called Galt Ocean Mile,” Harry added. “It's lined on both sides with high-rises, and it runs all the way down to Hollywood and Hallandale. There must be fifty or sixty buildings that would fit that description. We need to be able to narrow it down more than that if we're going to find the guy.”

“You're right,” I said, sitting on the bed beside Weezie. “We've got to go at this from another direction. Maybe just find ourselves a Sea Urchin. We know they're pretty rare. So if we find one, chances are we might find Reddy nearby.”

“What are you suggesting? That we search every marina in the area? That could take days, weeks even,” Harry said.

“Maybe we could just call some marinas and ask them if they've got one docked there,” I said.

Harry shook his head. “You obviously haven't met too many dockmasters. They don't keep that kind of information on hand, and even if they did, they're not going to tell that to some stranger over the phone.”

Granddad put his bowl of cereal in the little sink. “You kids let me know when you need me. I'm going back to my room. They're having mudslides in California. Wild-fires, floods, droughts. You couldn't pay me money to live out there.”

Weezie looked up from the newspaper at me. “So. Do we have a plan of action?”

“Guess not,” I said glumly.

“Okay if I take the car then? These ads have me salivating. Florida's a great place to buy mid-century modern stuff. It's really starting to take off in the shop now, and it's hard to get in Savannah.”

“What's mid-century modern?” Harry asked.

“Stuff from the fifties and sixties,” Weezie said. “My hip young clients, especially the ones from the art school, love the stuff. And Florida's a great place to buy it because old people come down here to retire, they bring their stuff with them and die. Eventually. That's why they call it God's waiting room.”

“I heard that,” Granddad said from the other room.

“Isn't that kind of ghoulish?” Harry asked.

“Not for me,” Weezie said. “It's just recycling. And it keeps me in business.” She picked up her tote bag and held up her cell phone. “Call me if something comes up and you need me. If not, I'll be back around noon.” She gave me a quick, surreptitious wink.

I followed her outside.

“What's with the wink?” I asked.

“You know,” she said, smirking. “I just wanted to give you guys some space.”

“Which guys?”

“You and Harry.”

“Why would we need any space?”

“I'm not blind, you know,” Weezie said. “You should be thanking me, not subjecting me to this inquisition.”

“Were you spying on us last night?”

“I was adjusting the drapes in the room,” Weezie said nonchalantly. “I just happened to see some movement out of the corner of my eye.”

“You were watching us making out? That is so freakin' creepy!”

“It was an accident,” Weezie said. “An innocent coincidence.”

“I'll bet,” I said.

“I could have killed that stinking Snuffy,” she said darkly. “Just when things were getting hot.” She fanned herself. “Ooh. I'm getting turned on just thinking about it again. Remind me to call Daniel tonight.”

BOOK: Savannah Breeze
5.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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