Stella in Stilettos (27 page)

Trish’s hazel eyes sparkled. “Ooooo, I can’t wait to see it. I brought my beige one.” She raised her eyebrows up and down. “From a distance, people will think I’m nude. Yee-haw! We’re gonna own the beach.”

“You are over the top, woman.” And Stella was glad to have such an incredible friend.

“I know, isn’t it great? By the way, my parents nagged me to death about finding
the one.
I had a stupid moment and told them about Steve. Then they really nagged me.” Trish moved her hair to show her ears. “Are my ears bleeding?”

Stella chuckled. “Nope.”

Trish sighed but her voice had a happy zip to it. “I thought my mom was going to do a cartwheel. They’ve turned over the hour glass, Stella, and the sand is falling fast.” She thumbed through the pages of her book. “They told me to get
busy
because if wait too much longer I’ll be too old to have kids.” She snorted. “They either gave me permission to have sex or were telling me to get engaged.”

“I think they meant the ring.” Stella shrugged. “Who knows, maybe this time next year you’ll be engaged…or you’ll be in the maternity ward.”

Trish put a hand on her stomach. “Stop trying to scare me.”

Stella opened Jenny Crusie’s latest romantic comedy.

Trish leaned in with a whisper. “Did Mr. Right answer your email?”

“Yes, with seven choppy words. ‘Nine o’clock. Upper Deck. Blue Hawaiian shirt.”

A weird grin tipped the corners of Trish’s mouth. “What’s his deal?”

“He’s probably feeling as silly as I am about meeting someone from the Internet.”

Trish made a weird face again. She did the strange look every time she mentioned Mr. Right. Stella was curious but she was ready to disconnect from everything. “We’ll probably have a drink together and it’ll be the last we see of him.” A girl could hope.

After the beverage service came through, Stella raised her cup of coffee. “To blue skies and calm seas.”
And to having the
courage to see this through
.

Trish raised her cup of Mimosa. “To warm weather and bikinis.” She took a sip and smacked her lips. “It’s ixnay on the pictures-ay. We’ll have to burn the memories into our brain instead of a memory card.”

“Good idea. By the way, did Steve tell you where he was headed?” There was a better than good chance that wherever Steve went, Alex was with him. Not that she cared. Alex could permanently relocate to Timbuktu and it wouldn’t matter. Over her next sip of coffee, she told herself to get real. Of course, she cared. She cared so much she’d be sick if she never saw him again. In fact, her stomach was already feeling queasy.

“Nope and he didn’t ask me either.”

“Seems a little odd.”

“I thought so too, but I wasn’t about to box myself in by asking him.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Stella settled back to read. She had so many things skittering through her brain she couldn’t concentrate – meeting Mr. Right, not forgiving Alex, a brand new job, not forgiving Alex, telling Maggie to find someone else to fix Melvin, not forgiving Alex. Gah. She needed a pitcher of Mimosa instead of coffee.

Alex had swallowed his pride and practically begged. But she hadn’t been able to swallow hers long enough to let him know she’d forgiven him and that she still wanted him.

* * * *

Island music blared from loud speakers and Stella’s heart beat in the same earthy rhythm. She almost danced up the gangway onto the catamaran. Soft billowy clouds surfed on the warm breeze in a cerulean sky, with sea gulls squawking out a welcome. “Ah. Vacation.” Stella leaned against the railing and inhaled the scent of a reprieve from the land of turmoil. She was feeling better already and they hadn’t even pulled out of port.

Trish bent over the banister to gawk at the crowd still waiting to board. “Look at all those people. I wonder if the luckiest man alive and his sidekick are down there or if they’re already on board.”

A measure of fear bit into Stella.
You can do this
.

Trish read her thoughts and threw an arm around her. “Margarita time, my dear girl.”

“It’s eight o’clock in the morning, Trish.”

Trish offered a sheepish grin. “There are no rules, we’re on vacation.”

“I should probably ease into the alcohol. Remember what happened a few days ago?”

“Yes I do. But there were special circumstances.”

“There was nothing special about throwing up.”

“You know what I mean. You were having a mild reaction to a pissy situation.”

“Mild?” Stella tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I overreacted. Alex didn’t go after that job, they offered it to him. I guess my anger was misplaced. Although, he knew about it and kept quiet.”

“Two margaritas, please.” Trish leaned on the bar and made googley eyes at the bartender. “Can you put a lime wedge on the side and add one of those little umbrellas?”

“Anything for you, pretty lady.”

“Ahhh. Did you hear that, Stella? He called me pretty.”

“That’s because you are, knucklehead.”

The drinks were there in a flash. Trish winked at the spiky-haired bartender and left him a huge tip. She motioned for them to head back to the sun deck.

Trish propped herself against the railing with her back to the Gulf. She took a big sip of margarita, smacked her lips and reopened the conversation about Alex. “Put yourself in Alex’s shoes, Stella. Why would he tell you that they offered him the job, especially when he turned it down? You need to give him credit for trying to save you some heartache. Who knew witch-weevil would work her black magic with a half-assed approach to pressure him into taking the job? She’s the one you should be angry with.”

Stella took a breath of salty air. “It’s time to leave all of that behind and enjoy our vacation.” Trish was right though. Maggie was the one who caused the trouble.

“Paradise and alcohol. Woo-hoo!” A couple walking by gave Trish a high-five.

Stella glanced at her watch and scanned the deck for blue Hawaiian shirts.

“Relax, jumpy. It’s only eight-fifteen. He said nine o’clock, right?”

“This thing isn’t exactly the size of a cruise ship. He could walk up those steps any minute.”

Trish licked the salt from the rim of her plastic glass. “I have a feeling we’re going to need a lot more alcohol. Be right back.” She took off down the steps.

Stella slipped out of her white leather toe-looped sandals and felt the warmth already heating up the deck. It was supposed to be eighty-four degrees in Key West and Columbus would struggle to make twenty today. If she could have a do-over right that minute with Alex, she’d brave a blizzard.

Trish returned with two more drinks. “Some guy hit on me the second I got to the bar.”

“You’ll get a lot of that; it’s a singles Meet and Greet.”

Trish peered over her glass. “I wonder what the sidekick looks like. I’ve pictured him as a troll with big ears.”

Stella got a vision of the scruffy guy who lived in the apartment at the end of the hall. “And sweaty basketball shoes.”

“Huh?”

Stella started to explain but there was no point. “He’ll probably look average, like us.”

Trish posed with her hands on her hips. She was dressed in a low-cut, silky top in avocado and an equally low-rise pair of denim Capri’s to show off her flat stomach. “You call this average?”

Stella gave her a small shove. “I meant below-average.”

Trish looped her arm through Stella’s. “Those chat-guys won’t know what hit them.”

Stella broke out in a sweat. “Trish, I can’t do this. I’m in…” Gah. “…love with Alex.”

Trish’s hazel eyes rounded to the size of quarters. “Oh my God, Stella. Really?”

“Really.” She was head over heels, can’t think straight, needing more alcohol to deal with the truth, in love with Alex Clay.

“Stella.” Trish took her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “Finally. Thank you, Lord!” A guy dressed in all black with multiple piercings in his brows walked by. Trish made him flinch when she put her hand out to get his attention. “My friend is in love!”

“Sooooo?”

Trish wrinkled her nose. “I had to tell somebody.” He kept going.

“Trish, stop. I haven’t even come to grips with it yet.” Stella dropped her face in her hands. “And I’m in Florida ready to meet someone else. I think I need a shrink instead of a vacation.”

“Do not freak out. We’re here to soak up the sun and meet a friend. Nothing more. No one is asking you to hook up with Mr. Right, just meet him.”

“I don’t welch on promises, but just this once, I’m going to. Let’s get off the boat.”

* * * *

The boat pulled out of Ft. Myers almost a half hour ago, which meant it was close to nine o’clock. Alex glanced at his watch and resumed mindless staring into the Gulf.

Steve slapped him on the back. “Are you ready?”

“No,” he said stiffly. The coastline didn’t look that far away. If he jumped in the water right now, he could probably make it to shore without drowning

“What are you doing?” Steve sounded like he was losing his patience.

Alex lifted a shoulder. He had no idea what he was doing. The only thing he knew for certain was he was on a boat to meet a woman he’d talked to a handful of times. “Don’t ride my ass.”

“I’m not. It’s an honest question.”

“What was I thinking, Steve? I can’t believe I agreed to something so ridiculous. Doesn’t it strike you as odd that a woman would want to meet someone from a chat room? What does that say about her? Desperation?”

“News flash – no one twisted your arm to come. What does that make you?”

“An imbecile.” Alex ran his hands through his hair. This had to be the stupidest thing he’d ever done.

“Quit being a pussy.”

“Maybe we should’ve talked on the phone or at least met for coffee.” Truthfully, he wasn’t afraid to meet Blonde1, or anyone else for that matter. Hell, he’d be comfortable bumping into the President of the United States. The bottom line was he didn’t want the complication of Blonde1 when his head and heart were still in Columbus.

“Hey, you dragged me to Florida to be your backup. So that’s what I’m going to do, back up your bony ass. We’re going to have a drink and make small talk with Blonde1 and her friend, and then we’re off the hook.”

Alex grumbled under his breath.

 “You’ve been acting weird since we left Ohio. Is the thought of meeting this chick really what has you on edge? Or is it someone else?”

“Kiss my ass.”

Steve grinned like he’d solved the puzzle. “That’s it! You’re hung up on Stella.”

The only thing Alex was capable of saying was, “Duh.” If the curly-haired hothead would’ve given an inch, there was a better than good chance he wouldn’t be on a stupid boat heading to Key West. “Why do you always have to be right?”

“It’s who I am. It’s what I do.” Steve didn’t have a serious bone in his body, but he stowed away the heckling long enough to say, “You and Stella make a great couple.”

Alex couldn’t help himself; a small smile cracked the stiff set of his mouth. “We do. I just have to convince her of that.” He chugged the last of his beer and sat the empty bottle on the bar.

“In the meantime, we need to go up on deck and take care of things,” Steve said. He raised and lowered his eyebrows with mischief. “This gal might be a real sweetheart.”

Alex let a low, lethal hiss roll from his chest. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Steve put his palms up. “I’m just saying.”

“You’re about to be shark-bait. I’m just saying.”

Alex noticed a dozen or so sun-kissed blondes on the prowl. He slid on his sunglasses so his search for Blonde1 wouldn’t be obvious, or misinterpreted. A few women gave him and Steve the eye as they walked the perimeter of the sun deck. He fended off the attention with a scowl.

There was no sign of a blue tank top and Capri’s. He let out the breath he’d been holding. “She’s not here. My guess is she came to her senses and stayed in Ohio. Let’s get another beer.”

“Nice try.” Steve pointed up. “We have one more deck.”

Alex issued Steve a look that threatened bodily harm.

Steve laughed in the face of danger.

On their way up the steps, a friendly female voice came across the loud speaker to welcome everyone to this year’s Meet and Greet. She announced that once they docked in Key West, they could retrieve their luggage and check into the Crowne Plaza Hotel. “At one o’clock we’ll meet in the designated conference room to go over the list of scheduled events. After that, you’re on your own until this evening’s formal gathering. We have another three hours on the catamaran, so soak up some sun or go below and relax.”

“Whatever,” Alex grumbled.

The top deck was jammed with people. A blue tank top caught his eye right away and he did an about face almost knocking Steve back down the steps. “Shit, Steve. I’m sorry.”

Steve righted himself and raised an eyebrow before brushing his gaze past Alex. “False alarm. Meaty brunette.” He studied Alex. “Seriously, dude, I’ve never seen you like this. You’re always in control and fearless.”