Package Deal (24 page)

Later that afternoon, he came over and took them for a seafood dinner in Flagler Beach and stayed over again—their lovemaking reaching greater heights than the previous night. Again, he left before her daughter woke up.

Monday morning Kelly dropped Lacy at school and decided to stop by Murphy’s before heading to work. Connie, the woman who had waited on Kelly and Steve the day of the luggage swap, greeted Kelly with a friendly smile.

“I was wondering if you’d ever come back.” She showed Kelly to a booth. The place smelled of bacon and coffee, and Kelly’s stomach rumbled.

“You remember me?”

“I do. You met Steve McCarthy here and almost took off his head.” She laughed. “He’s a regular, especially on the weekends.”

“He is? Hmm. Well, you’re right. I wasn’t very pleasant. Not one of my finer moments, I’m afraid.” She grimaced, remembering. “He had my luggage, and I was in a hurry to meet my new boss.”

Connie handed her a menu. “Want some coffee?”

“Sure. A small orange juice, too, please.”

“So, how’d the luggage work out?” She reached into her apron pocket and set some eating utensils and a napkin in front of Kelly. Her nametag—Hi, I’m Connie—was pinned in the middle of her chest.

Kelly pondered the waitress’s nosiness but reminded herself it was a small town compared to San Francisco and the Bay Area. Besides, Connie seemed to know Steve pretty well.

“It turned out okay.” Kelly couldn’t help but smile. She’d spent the last two nights in his arms, willing and eager.

“You two dating now?” Connie asked.

Kelly blushed. “How did you know?”

Her brown eyes twinkled. “Just a guess.”

“We are. Sort of.” Kelly wasn’t sure what to say. She’d only made up her mind about dating or not dating Steve McCarthy two days ago.

Connie blushed. “Sorry. I’m not a very private person. I’m nosey, but only with people I care about. I’ll leave you alone and let you look at the menu.”

She seemed to change her mind. “Steve’s been coming here for years, and I’m telling you, he’s a keeper. Don’t know why that man is still single. If I was fifteen years younger and a whole lot prettier…” She stopped and laughed. “Well, you know what I mean. A girl as pretty and smart as you doesn’t have to be told now, do you? I wish you good luck with him.”

Awkward
. “Uh, I’m ready to order. I know what I want.” Kelly handed her the menu. “I’ll take one piece of French toast and one scrambled egg.”

Connie jotted her order in her pad. “Good choice.”

Kelly watched her walk off toward the kitchen. She was a bit odd but friendly, and it was evident she thought a lot of Steve—although, Kelly mused, how much could a waitress really know about any of her regulars?

As soon as Kelly arrived at work—tantalizing images of a night between the sheets with Steve playing games with her hormones—she called the utility in Summer Springs to reschedule her interview appointment with Howard Stovall, head of operations. They’d put her off once already, so she decided to take a more assertive approach.

“Mr. Stovall’s secretary, please. This is Kelly Pearson from the
News Journal
in Daytona Beach.”

Someone picked up right away. “Ms. Pearson. I assume you’re calling to reschedule.”

“Well, yes. Matter of fact I am.” She hadn’t expected getting an appointment to be so easy.

“Not a problem. Mr. Stovall is open next week. How about next Monday morning…say eleven o’clock?”

“Eleven o’clock would be perfect.”

She hung up and continued working on an article concerning the toxic legacy of the dry cleaning business. Perchloroethylene, a chemical used by the dry cleaning industry was responsible for polluting almost every town in America. Years ago, the scientific community found the chemical caused cancer, liver damage, neurological problems, and more. A thorough cleanup never happened, and contaminated water and soil were still a big problem, posing a continued health threat to anyone living near a dry cleaner. It continued to be a nightmare for the EPA. The subject was interesting since most citizens had no idea the problem existed, but it required in depth, lengthy searches for updated information of which there was little available. Nevertheless, someone had to write about it, or the EPA might try to brush it under the table. So, Kelly dove in and lost herself on the Internet until lunchtime.

Tina Aikins, the
News Journal’s
“Dear Abby”, finished her column early and asked Kelly if she wanted to go to lunch.

“Sure. I’d love to, Tina. Thanks. I’ll be ready in about twenty minutes. Can you wait?”

“I’ll find something to occupy me.” Tina winked and disappeared around the corner.

Tina Aikins stood about four foot eleven and had hips that mimicked the sway of palm trees when she walked in her stiletto heels. Bottle blonde hair framed her face, which was painted with more makeup than Tammy Faye Baker’s ever was. Despite the image, she was a Daytona Beach icon—saving marriages, making decisions for those who couldn’t make their own, and restoring order after chaos for the many residents who sought her advice.

Waldo with his big ears and tendency to eavesdrop told her, “Watch out for her. Don’t forget she’s the gossip columnist, so be careful what you tell her.”

“She’s not the gossip columnist. She gives advice. Right?”

“Wrong.” He spun around and, for a moment, said nothing then continued pounding his keyboard.

Kelly shrugged, not knowing whether to take him seriously or not. Her cell phone rang and Steve’s number appeared.

“Hey, are we still on for tonight?”

She grinned and her insides got fuzzy just hearing his voice.

“Hey. Hi there. I was just thinking about you.” It wasn’t a lie. For the past few days she could be doing anything and still have him on her mind.

“You’re sweet. I know you’re busy, so I won’t take up any more of your time. Are we on?”

“Sure. What did you have in mind?” she said, leaning back in her chair.

“Something a first grader and folks our age might both enjoy.”

She laughed. “Maybe after I’ve been here a while I’ll find someone I trust to watch Lacy, and you and I can have a real date.”

His voice thickened. “I look forward to that, Ms. Pearson. Until then, a threesome it is, unless we include Junker.”

“Too bad he can’t baby-sit.”

Steve chuckled. “I was thinking of a trip to the boardwalk.”

“Sounds fun. Games and taffy. I’m up for it, and Lacy will love it.”

“Okay. Your wish is my command. Have you thought about dinner?’

“We’re easy.”

“Yeah, I remember Lacy said she loved junk food. We can grab something at the boardwalk. What are you doing for lunch?” he asked.

“I’ve got a lunch invite from Tina Aikins.”

“Whoa. Watch out there. She’s the gossip columnist.”

“Wow. You’re the second person to warn me about her. Waldo told me the same thing.”

“Who’s Waldo?” he asked.

“One of the other writers. His desk is behind mine, so we’ve struck up a kind of friendship. I’m sure you’ll get to meet him some day. He’s a character but a nice guy.”

“If he can work for Willis, he must be made of steel.”

“Well, you wouldn’t know it to look at him.”

Waldo had left his desk and now approached her from the left.

“Oops, incoming. Gotta go,” she told Steve. “I’ll call you later.”

They both laughed and hung up.

“I thought you were leaving,” Waldo said. “Where’s Ms. Busybody?”

“She gave me a twenty minute reprieve, but it’s almost up.”

“I should probably go with you to protect your reputation. Stop you from saying too much about yourself,” he
teased,
his overbite visible.

“Not much to tell, yet. Remember I just got here. Maybe she’ll share some gossip about you.”

“I doubt it.” His smile faded. “I’m a closed book. You’ll hear no dirt about me. Unfortunately.”

“Well, that’s just boring.” She grabbed her purse. “I’ll suggest she try harder. I hear she’s good. I’m sure she can find something on you.”

“Don’t do me any favors. My dull life suits me.” He turned away and lost himself in a pile of paperwork.

She liked Waldo and picked up on a hint of loneliness in his voice—until Steve, something she and her fellow reporter had in common.

He glanced back at her. “See you when you get back.”

“I won’t be back. I’m doing a thing on dry cleaners and thought I’d stop by a few and get their take on the pollution problem. I’ll see you tomorrow, Waldo.” She wagged her index finger at him. “Behave! Or Tina gets your name and number.”

“Always behave. Trouble avoids me.” He saluted her.

Tina took Kelly to her favorite restaurant—a small Middle Eastern café famous for their piping hot mint tea and the usual Mediterranean fare—lamb kebabs, gyros, humus, and
babaganoush
. Oddly enough, a great tuna salad, too, which they both ordered with a side of lentil soup.

“Thanks for inviting me. I haven’t had much chance to socialize since I arrived It’s nice to talk to someone other than a six-year-old.”

“I hear you. I have two kids. A boy and a girl. Nine and seven. I think that’s one of the reasons I enjoy doing the column. I get letters from adults, but can respond as if they were children.” She giggled and took a bite of her tuna salad.

“Most advice is pretty simple. Common sense, really. Stuff even a kid could figure out. It keeps me content without overtaxing my mental skills.”

“Oh, come on. You’re obviously a smart woman. Your job isn’t easy, and not everyone can help others. It’s a gift, and I hear you’re very good at it.” Kelly swallowed a spoonful of lentil soup.

Feigning modesty, Tina shrugged. “It’s a job but thanks. I think you and I could be good friends.”

“Are you married, Tina?”

“Yes, where else would I get all this valuable ‘knowledge’,” she made quotations marks in the air and laughed, “to pass on to others. Twelve years married. My husband is
as
 
bad
as one of the kids. I swear they’re all helpless. I don’t know what they’d do if I jumped off a bridge.”

Kelly laughed. “It must be tough for him being married to a super mom and a Daytona Beach icon. What’s he do for a living?” Kelly hoped she didn’t sound too nosey. Connie’s openness had rubbed off on her.

“He works at the Space Center in Cape Canaveral. He’s an aeronautical engineer. I suppose that’s why he acts like a little kid. All left brain and no common sense, but he’s a sweetie. He’d do anything for me.”

“You’re lucky,” Kelly said, envy in her voice.

“From your tone I take it you’re single or divorced.”

The word “dumped” popped into her head, followed by the usual knot in her stomach. “Yeah.”

A motherly expression crossed Tina’s face. “Sorry. Reading people is my job. You want to talk about it?”

She didn’t. “That’s okay. I’ve been divorced six, almost seven years. Honestly though, it was harder to be married.” Changing the subject, she added, “Do a lot of people in Daytona work at the Space Center?”