Hot Coco (18 page)

Thanks, sis.

He thought the girl’s name would be Eliza, but it turned out to be Tanya. He was relieved.
What kind of a name was Eliza Doolittle, anyway?

A mere five-foot-two, Tanya was tiny, and couldn’t have weighed more than one-hundred-and-ten pounds while soaking wet. She was small enough to be a jockey.
Yikes.

She’s ... cute. I don’t do cute. What the hell was Kate thinking? I like tall leggy women. I like a woman with curves. Breasts are always nice. This girl has what looks to be dried-up prunes. I like a woman I can wrap my arms around and not feel like she’ll break in half.

Her one-shouldered red dress was adorable. She wore her brunette hair swept back into a ponytail to expose the sparkling rhinestone hoops dangling from her earlobes.

Tanya was chatty. She talked and talked and talked. She had a fondness for twenty questions and she fired them off like a machine gun. “Do you like being a horse trainer?” “How long have you been a horse trainer?” “Do you make a lot money at that?” “Are the Thoroughbreds the one’s with the tiny saddle?” And his personal favorite question of the evening: “So, how long were you married to your wife? Are you divorced or just separated?”

God, when will this dance be over? She’s short, she’s flat, and she talks way too much. I may have a hard time forgiving Kate for this one. I’ll have no problem forgetting this chick ever existed.

Mike thought his head was going to explode by the time his father and Jen arrived at the table. Eric pulled a chair out for Jen. “What can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll have a zinfandel. Thank you.”

Mike almost knocked over his chair when he jumped up. “I’ll come with you.”

Eric waved his hand. “No, you stay and get acquainted with your date.” He smiled at her. “Can I get you something?”

“I’m Tanya. I’ll have a rum and Coke. Thank you. Are you Mike’s dad?”

“Yes, I’m Eric—”

“Are you a horse trainer, too?”

Eric noticed his son’s peeved expression. “A zinfandel, and a rum and Coke, it is.”

While he maneuvered around the table, he heard Tanya ask Jen, “Are you Mike’s mom?”

Poor Mike, what the hell was Kate thinking?
He scanned the room for Shane or Kate while making his way to the bar. “A white zinfandel, rum and Coke, a Rolling Rock ...”

He glanced back at the table. Mike was leaning on his elbow with his head cupped in his hand. Tanya’s lips were still moving. He needed a rescue. “And give me a double shot of your best whiskey,” he instructed the bartender.

Leaning in close, Dan Quaide squeezed his shoulder. “Jen’s looking damned hot tonight, ole boy. Much better choice than that O’Conner girl.”

Eric’s jaw locked.

Dan didn’t know when to quit. “Hey, maybe I’ll ask Jen for a dance later.”

With a warning in his eyes, Eric turned to him. “Maybe I’ll break your jaw later.”

The left side of Dan’s mouth turned upward when he looked past Eric’s shoulder. His eyes brightened. “Don’t look now, buddy, but you’ve got double trouble.” With a sleazy grin toward the ballroom doors, he hiked his chin.

Eric turned to see Margie walk in on Scott Carter’s arm.

Wearing a plain black sheath dress, she looked good. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a cascade of curls.

Eric was most impressed with Scott. He didn’t look bad in a nice grey suit.

The bartender handed Eric his drink order on a small tray.

After tossing several bills on the bar, he shouldered past Dan toward Margie. He walked up behind her. “Margie, how are you?”

Producing a pleasantly forced smile, she turned to him. “I’m good, Eric, how about you?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been trying to bump into you all week.”

“I heard.”

“I wanted to iron some things out with you,” he said.

Margie was eyeing-up the tray of drinks in Eric’s hand. Her lips curled. “Is that wine for Jen?”

He shot her a perplexed expression. “Yes, yes, it is.”

She took the wine glass from the tray and guzzled it down. “Mike would’a hated calling me mom, anyways.” Leaving Eric without his zinfandel order, she led Scott into the ballroom.

The evening belonged to Jen. She owned it. Well, almost. Eric complimented her dress and her hair. Except when he glanced in Margie’s direction, she had his undivided attention. She could tell he was bothered by the whole vandalism situation.
No worries. Once I have him alone at my place, the Margie O’Conner distractions will cease to exist. Oh yes, I have every intention to drive him to distraction, all right. Lights low, candles lit, and clothes scattered on the floor.

Then, there was the other diversion: The fact that Shane never showed-up. Kate called him several times—no answer.

Kate’s date was a real hottie. Holden Reese was a big guy. With broad shoulders, he was tall at six-foot-one, if not taller. He carried a rugged cowboy air about him. With dark-colored hair, he wore a dark chocolate suit with light brown stitching that formed curly yokes at the shoulders. Hot damn, it was definitely working for him.

Jen wasn’t surprised.
Who else would Kate attract but Mister Tall-Dark-and-Incredibly-Gorgeous?

On the other hand, Mike doesn’t seem to be enjoying his date at all.
I don’t know why. Tanya’s a little cutie. She’s very personable, talkative, and perky. Okay, maybe a little too perky.

Mike seemed very put-off. Jen surmised that it might be because his ex-wife, Ava, looked so dazzling while dancing close with the tall, slender gentleman who she had brought to the dance. She noticed that Ava’s date stealthily glanced in Kate’s direction every once in a while.
Who can blame him? She’s truly striking.

Then, there was the blonde bombshell, Coco Beardmore, who Mike kept eyeing-up as well as he was his ex-wife.
Seems Eric’s elder son has an attraction to tall beautiful women. He seems annoyed to see her with Tom Mason, a much older, but well-maintained, man.

Nope, poor Tanya really isn’t cutting the mustard.

In the far corner of the ballroom, Coco was attracting a crowd. Kate elbowed Mike and the entire table went to see what the commotion was about. They eddied into the circle that had formed around her. Next to a table decked-out with fine china and crystal, she sparkled in her black strapless gown. Beaming at his date, Tom Mason seemed intrigued by what the bombshell had in store for everyone.

“Are you ready, everybody?”

She waited for the crowd to respond with a hearty, “Yes!”

Coco laughed and clapped her hands. “Okay, this is my party trick.”

Expecting the worst, Mike bit his lip. Eric and Kate braced, too.

Coco nodded to the DJ, who played a drum roll over the sound system. She took a firm hold of the linen tablecloth beneath the china and the crystal, and yanked quick and hard.

The crowd cheered. Undisturbed, every piece of china and crystal remained in their original positions. Tom grabbed his talented date and kissed her.

Over the roar of the zealous crowd, Jen heard Mike lean into Kate. “Seriously? The woman can’t cook dinner without causing a three-alarm fire, but she can pull off that freaking party trick?”

“Look around, Mike, she has caused a fire,” Kate pointed out.

Mike measured the faces in the crowd.
Hell, even Lugowski’s smiling and clapping. Oddly, he’s staring at Kate. Now what the hell is that about?

The lights dimmed, and the music went low and slow.

Eric pulled Jen close. She ran her hands up and down his arms while breathing in his cologne and the warmth of his body against hers. The evening had been as she hoped, but it was time to get the late night festivities ignited.

“Eric, I’ve had a wonderful time,” she whispered, “but my feet are killing me.”
Hope that’s not too transparent.
“How about if we go to my place, so I can get out of these heels.”

“Will I be allowed to loosen my tie?”

“Oh, yes, by all means.”

“Then you’re on.” He gestured to Kate that he was leaving.

Holding back the urge to break into a dead run, Jen led him from the dance floor. On their way out of the ballroom, she scooped up her purse when they passed the table. They went out to the lobby.

Jen hesitated at the ladies room. “I’ll be right back.” She kissed his cheek before disappearing through the door.

Eric wasn’t waiting until they arrived at Jen’s condo
. I’m loosening this damned tie this very instant. Enough with the choking already.

Margie rounded the corner and bumped into him.

“Margie ...”

She smiled. “I signed my name yesterday for the UPS man.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Thanks.”

“Margie—” Not wanting to participate in whatever conversation he wanted to start, she waved her hand and made a quick escape into the ladies room.

Jen smacked her lips together in the mirror, they were plump and moist and ready for action. Assuring that her breasts were perfectly primed, she tugged at her dress.
Eric West is going to get the ride of his life tonight.

Standing behind her, Margie appeared in the reflection of mirror. Her face was stiff and her eyes were razor sharp.

Jen’s eyes widened. She dropped her lipstick into her evening bag and turned to make a swift exit.

Margie blocked her path. “I wanna talk to you.”

Jen squared her shoulders. “About what? My slashed tires or my broken window?”

“What?”

Jen hitched her chin while rolling her eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” She tried to sidestep around her, but Margie stepped in front of her again.

“I wanna talk about Eric—”

“You can talk to my attorney.” Jen shoved her aside and reached for the door.

Margie grabbed her arm. “Wait a minute.”

Jen wasn’t interest in waiting for anything.
I’m not buying Margie’s lame act of the poor, innocent, brow-beaten daughter of Doug O’Conner. She may have fooled Eric but not me. I’m not going to let her get away with it any longer.
She yanked her arm from Margie’s grip and slapped her hard across the face.

Margie’s head snapped to the side. Her eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open.
Whatta bitch!
She cuffed her in the jaw.

Eric’s tie drooped through his collar. He had even unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt.
Relief
. He leaned against the wall, checked the time on his watch, and sighed. That was when he heard a thump against the ladies room door. He jolted away from the wall and listened intensely to the harsh voices wafting from behind the door. He could hear a skirmish. He crept toward the door with his eyebrows furrowed. The aggressive movements and the agitated voices were louder and more severe.

Desperately, he looked around the lobby. It was empty and quiet. The only sounds were the low murmur of the crowd and the romantic music from the ballroom … and the callous voices rising rigorously from the bathroom.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as panic scraped up his spine. He stepped toward the ladies room door, reached for the handle, and then retreated.

He looked around the lobby again. It was still empty. He swallowed hard. He’d never been in a ladies room. That was a place where women did ... women things … a no-man’s land. While most men wondered what the hell are they doing in there, what the hell’s taking so long, and why do they always visit that room in pairs; it was still a place men regard as “off limits.”

The murmur of loud voices grew harsh, which graduated to yelling, and then another hard thump followed by several
bang, bedunk, clang, clangs.
The yelling changed to screaming, screeching, and what sounded like skidding.

Jesus.

It was time to toss his inhibitions aside
.
He grabbed the handle and dashed into the mysterious forbidden no-man’s land. He slid to a stop at the end of the short row of stalls. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

An entanglement of bodies, Jen and Margie were rolling over the floor, pulling hair, kicking, and shrieking. Jen’s lovely gown was bunched around her waist. The shoulder of Margie’s dress was ripped.

Jen kicked her leg furiously against a stall door, which bounced open and then slammed closed.
Bang! Bedunk! Clang! Clang!

“What the hell is going on?” Eric shouted.

They weren’t listening. Jen had her hand cupped under Margie’s jaw, which forced her head against the floor. Meanwhile, Margie was yanking Jen’s head backwards by her hair.

The stall doors reverberated.
Bang! Bedunk! Clang! Clang!

This was a major cat fight. Some men may have been totally turned on by the female fury. Eric? No so much. His face was flushed and the beads of sweat were now streams running down his temples. He had to do something. Straddling the women, he forced them apart and lifted them to their feet. It was poor judgment on his part, or perhaps he didn’t realize the scope of the situation. He braced himself between the two snarling women.

The silence was brief.

Anger rushing through her veins, Jen lurched forward at Margie.Trying to block the blow, Eric caught Jen’s swift right hook to the jaw. Margie obviously considered this a cheap shot. Arms pumping, she desperately tried to get a good hold of Jen’s hair but came up with a chunk of Eric’s instead.

“Stop!” Eric shrieked.

Just then, several women wondered into the room. They gasped at the sight of the two women with their hair askew, dresses ripped, and blood dripping from Jen’s nose. Eric looked like a madman with his mussed hair, a steady trickle of blood dribbling from his lip, and his arms firmly wrapped around Jen and Margie’s waists.

The women’s eyes popped and their faces filled with fright. Calling him disparaging names, they threw their purses at Eric. Some threw the contents of their bags. He ducked and dodged. Some of the purses hit him in the head and shoulders. Others missed him to hit the stall doors.
Bang! Bedunk! Clang! Clang!