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Betty Jean smiled up at him. “Hey, Hot Stuff.”
“Mrs. Collins,” he acknowledged respectfully, because, hell, she was practically old enough to be his grandmother.
“So, I know this is forward of me, but you know the old saying, the early bird catches the worm, and you’re about the juiciest worm this old bird has seen in a long time.” She threw her head back and laughed.
Steve shuffled from foot to foot and waited for whatever it was she would say next. She made no sense, of course, but his encounters with Betty Jean were always a little off. There were times when he actually thought she might be hitting on him. Which…yeah, there were no words for that really.
“Now don’t get me wrong,” Betty Jean said. “I love Kitty. Yessiree, I do. She’s practically Whispering Bay royalty. You know her grandmother, Amanda Hanahan, founded our group, but…never mind about that.” She slipped a business card in his hand. “Loyalty is one thing, but a woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do.” Then she winked at him and walked away.
He glanced down at the card. Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow. Natalie Bingham, stylist and owner.
Betty Jean thought he needed a haircut? He turned the card over. There was a message written in a woman’s flowery scroll:
This is my niece’s business card. She’s thirty-four and divorced. Owns her own business. Plus, she’s a Scorpio and you know what they say about their sex drives. Call her!
What the fuck?
His gaze immediately shot to Betty Jean’s table. She gave him a big thumbs-up. She wasn’t serious, was she? Everyone in town knew he was with Kitty. Maybe this was some kind of weird joke. Betty Jean did have a wacky sense of humor. Not sure what else to do, he pocketed the card and turned back to the counter.
Frida, thank God, was there, waiting for him. Now maybe his morning could get back to normal.
“Hey, Frida,” he said, greeting The Bistro’s owner. “I’ll have the usual, please.”
“And that would be, what, exactly?” Her frosty tone startled him.
“You know what I want,” he said, giving her his best smile.
“Really? Because it seems to everyone in town that you have no idea what you want.”
What the hell was going on here today? First Betty Jean, and now Frida. It was as if he’d suddenly been thrust into an episode of The Twilight Zone.
“Large coffee with a splash of milk,” he said.
Frida pursed her lips as though she was trying not to say something. She thrust him his coffee without a sleeve on the cardboard cup, almost scalding the palm of his hand. “The milk is over there.” She pointed to a side table with condiments. In the past, the staff had always doctored his coffee for him, not that he expected it, but…yeah, he kind of expected it. It’s what they did for every other customer as well.
“Sorry,” she added in a voice that implied she wasn’t sorry at all, “but from now on there’s an extra charge. No free milk here.”
They were charging him extra for the milk?
“Are you all right this morning, Frida?” he asked carefully.
“Me? I’m just peachy. Yep. I’m great! That’s two bucks. Cash only.”
Cash only? He almost laughed out loud. If he was being punked, they were doing a terrific job of it. He juggled the hot cup to his other hand and dug out a couple of bills, making sure to leave a five spot in the large glass tip jar by the counter. Had he forgotten to tip this past week? Was that why Frida was acting so unfriendly? Maybe she and Ed were having problems. He’d have to ask Kitty about it later.
His cell phone pinged. “Uh, have a good day,” he said to Frida, then turned to look at his phone. There was a text from Terrie. He hesitated briefly before reading the message. He and his third ex-wife weren’t exactly on the best of terms, but this morning couldn’t get any stranger.
Good news. We’re FINALLY going to sell the house.
Okay. So this was good news.
Back when he and Terrie were married, they’d built a house in Mexico Beach, just an hour east of Whispering Bay. The house was a showplace. A three thousand square foot, Mediterranean-style home with a gourmet kitchen and a killer location right on the water. It was supposed to be their home away from home. The ultimate vacation getaway. He’d personally supervised the construction, laid the kitchen tiles himself, and picked out all the appliances.
A couple of weeks before they were scheduled to move in, he’d caught Terrie giving his ex-business partner, Ted, a blow job. Right in her damn office.
He should have been devastated. But the truth was it
had been a relief. The marriage had been sour for a long time, but it was his third go around and he’d felt he had to try his hardest before throwing in the towel. Catching her in the act had been liberating. There was also the fact that she said she didn’t love him anymore, making the whole thing a no brainer.
