The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series

by Patrice Wilton

  Susie listened to her response and nodded with tears glistening in her eyes. “Yes, yes, you can run things and I won’t interfere. I will even throw in a ten percent bonus for me being such a pain in the ass.”

  She clicked off her smart phone and turned to me. “She’s back on board. The wedding will go on.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  FRAN

  Between Susie’s freak-outs, the office girls in revolt, and my hurt over John’s continued silence, I was not having a good week. The music festival now seemed a lifetime ago, and my triumph and feel-good high came crashing down around my feet. The wedding was to take place the following Saturday night and Susie had chosen the venue with great care and deliberation. I could have solved the problem of world peace in half the time it took her to decide which reception hall was deemed most worthy. But that’s Susie in a nut shell. Heart of gold, head—heaven only knew where.

  Tonight, after a long day dealing with office politics and hormonal woman, not to mention our drama Queen, Susie, I had to go home, feed the animals, and then put my party shoes on.

  It was Susie’s bachelorette party and we’d rented a limousine to take us around South Beach to hit as many bars as we could possibly stand. Even Candy had turned her bar over to the Adonis, Jamie, her hunky bartender, who she trusted to run the place on the off nights that she couldn’t.

  The limo arrived at my door at seven, Susie would be next, then Lydia, and last Candy. As the chauffeur escorted me to the stretch limo, I shrugged off my coat of despair, stomped on it for good measure, and decided that tonight we’d all be Cinderella. Hopefully, we’d call it a night before our coach turned into a pumpkin, leaving us in rags, but for now, I glided toward the extravagant pink-Hummer-of-my-dreams as if I were indeed about to meet the handsome prince. Why not? This chariot was designed to bring a smile to your face and make all your fantasies come true.

  The wing door lifted, and the young driver, Jared, assisted me inside. He laughed when I screamed with delight.

  I’m not ashamed to admit that the few times I’ve been in the back of a limo were at my brother’s wedding and my husband’s funeral. Neither memory was a good one, but tonight, I would know how it feels to travel in style and party like a rock star. The art deco décor had a nightclub feel with plush, curvy sofas, sparkly colored lights on the raised ceiling, and it included floor lights too.

  Once I settled inside, I glanced around at the luxurious surroundings, noting all the sweet surprises. We had two bottles of champagne chilling in ice along with four crystal flutes. The place was roomier than I’d expected, and groovy, if such a word still existed. I felt like dancing, dancing, dancing the night away.

  I played around with some of the buttons and suddenly, the large TV screen came alive with a rock concert.

  “Everything all right back there?” Jared asked through the intercom.

  “Wow, it’s so perfect, I don’t know where to begin.”

  “There’s a large selection of concerts; Michael Jackson, Andrea Bocceli, Josh Groban, some good country music too. It covers a variety of tastes. If you don’t see what you want, just ask.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks.”

  “There’s also an audio selection, if you don’t want the screen on.”

  “This is awesome. I’m sure we will be easily entertained. If this whole limo experience doesn’t do it, I need a new set of friends.”

  “We’re pulling up to Susie’s now. Stay seated and I’ll walk her in.”

  “I’ll do that.” I rested my head against the plush sofa and giggled. Had it only been a few hours ago that I was down in the dumps, regretting to go out tonight? Now, I’m flying high.

  I had the champagne bottle in my hand, trying to figure how to pop the cork without breaking a window, when Susie and Jared came back.

  “Susie!” I embraced her. “Isn’t this the most fabulous thing ever? Lydia managed to get the pink one. It’s so cool!”

  Susie laughed and grabbed the bottle. “Jared, could you be a darling and open this? The party’s about to begin.”

  We slugged down our first chilled glass of delicious champagne, and it seemed as if Susie had forgotten her pre-wedding nerves, hurricane fears, and her loathing of all things lemon. She was clearly ready to celebrate her last few days as a single woman.

  We picked up Lydia then Candy and had the driver take us down Ocean Drive.

  “Mango’s!” Susie screamed. “Come on, girls. I did a painting for them. We’ve got to start there.”

  We walked in and discovered not only had she done a painting but a mural on one of the walls. The entire restaurant, walls and ceiling, covered by tropical murals, but none so beautiful as the one Susie pointed to as hers.

  The bartender knew our talented Susie and gave us a free round of delicious Mojitos, the house specialty. The minty lime drink was extremely refreshing but it came with a warning. ‘One mojito, two mojito, three mojito, floor.’

  Candy nearly spilled her drink when magically Latin dancers appeared on bar tops and did a fast little Salsa right before our eyes. “Holy shit! What was that? Why don’t I have this happening at my place?”

  I put my arm around Candy and whispered in her ear. “Yeah, it’s cool, but your bar is still the best.”

  She shrugged my arm off and walked around, taking mental notes, I was sure. “I’m glad I came out tonight,” she said wistfully. “It seems as if I’m falling behind.”

  “No, you’re not,” I hastened to assure her. “Your bar was a pioneer with this sort of thing. You still have your “talent night” and give local artists a chance to shine.”

  “It’s nothing compared to this.”

  I’d never seen anything quite like it, so I kept quiet. We finished our drinks and declined a second round. Although, it would have been fun to stay longer and watch the action, we had to move on.

  Our next stop was the ultra chic Delano Hotel, and we had a Cosmopolitan at the Rose Bar. It was a little too quiet so we made an early exit and headed to Automatic Slim’s, a totally college party scene. Young, inebriated women were taking turns on the stripper pole; and not to be outdone, Susie gave it her best shot too.

  Lydia snapped pictures with her iPhone, and we tried to get her up there, but she refused. We all knew Lydia hadn’t partied since her son was born, so she needed a little encouragement. I grabbed one hand and Susie the other, then we pulled her forward.

  “Lydia” we chanted, “Lyd..i..a.”

  Being a good sport, she mounted the pole and did a racy dance that had us shaking our heads, wondering if our lawyer friend had a secret life we knew nothing about.

  The last stop was the Clevelander hotel with an outdoor bar and stage. We danced and tried to sober up but for me, it was no use. After all the drinks we’d had, all the dancing in the world wouldn’t cut it. I staggered off the dance floor and meandered to the far end of the pool. I doubled over and tossed my cookies in a bush.

  A waiter came by and offered me a napkin, and I did my best to clean myself up. I tottered back to the dance floor to find my friends, and before I could reach them to say we had to leave, a man grabbed my arm. Figuring it was a bouncer getting ready to throw me out, I leaned back, and said, “Hands off. I’m leaving.”

  Then I blinked, and my eyes grew bigger. “Jay? Oh, Jay, I’m so glad to see you.”

  “Baby doll. What are you doing here?”

  Slurring my words, I muttered, “I’m here because it’s Susie’s bachelorette party.” I grinned and wobbled. “I’m a little drunk.” I burped. “’Scuse me.”

  He laughed and put an arm around my shoulders. “That you are.” He led me to a table and sat me down. “I’ll get you some coffee, don’t move.”

  “I can’t move. My feet aren’t working properly.” I kicked off my shoes and wiggled my toes. “Bad feet, very bad.”

  “How much did you drink tonight?” He put his hands on my chair and bent down to look me in the eyes. “You’re a light weigh
t drinker. You need to pace yourself.”

  “That’s all you know. I drunk good. Kept up with all my buddies. There,” I pointed. “That’s Susie, isn’t she beautiful! And that tall, gorgeous red-head is Lydia, and Candy, well, you know.” I smirked. “From top to toe.” Then I giggled.

  Candy glanced over and saw us. She stopped dancing and walked slowly towards us. “Jay?”

  He winked and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, beautiful. You should have told me you’d be here tonight. I’ve got a gig down the street.”

  “I would have, but you never called.”

  Jay ignored the remark and nodded in my direction. “This girl needs coffee. Lots of it.” He added unnecessarily, “She’s looped.”

  He took off and my head rolled back, feeling as though it might topple over. “Oh, Candy, I think I’m going to be sick again.”

  She reached to the table next to us and grabbed a glass that was near empty. “Sorry folks, but my friend needs this more than you.”

  I leaned over and puked in the highball glass.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  FRAN

  Candy decided to stay and party with Jay, so I had a sofa to myself on the ninety-minute drive home. The plush sofa felt heavenly, and I slept most of the way back. Out of kindness, they took me home first. Jared took the keys out of my fumbling hand and unlocked the front door.

  I tried to kiss him, I remember, but he dodged me successfully and I stumbled in and knocked into Pepe’s cage.

  “Who goes there?” he screeched. “Fuck, shit, fuck.”

  “It’s me, Pepe, you foul mouthed bird. Go back to sleep.”

  “Pepe wants a cracker.”

  “Pepe’s going to get more than a cracker if he doesn’t stop screeching. Oh, my head. Holy shit. Fuck it hurts.”

  “Fuck, shit, fuck,” Pepe agreed.

  “Stop saying that. You don’t have a hangover.” I put the hood over his cage, gave Milo some water, filled her dry food dish, and then staggered to bed.

  The next morning, a streak of sunlight woke me up. The bright sliver of light shone through a crack in the blinds and pierced my eyes. I blinked, closed my eyes tight, then blinked again. I moaned and rubbed my eyes, my stomach, my head. Thank God it was Saturday morning and I didn’t have anywhere to go. I did have to sing at the Candy Bar tonight, but I should be in fine shape by then.

  I got out of bed, staggered into the bathroom and washed my hands and face. My eyes were puffy and red, my face blotchy, and my hair was standing on end. I looked a fright.

  I took off my dress that I’d worn to bed and stepped under a hot shower. I didn’t care how long I stayed there, I was not leaving until I felt like my old self.

  The hot water was cold by the time I turned off the shower and stepped out. Chilled, I wrapped a big towel around myself and padded into the kitchen to make coffee.

  I fussed over Pepe and Milo, and told them their mommy was a very bad girl. Milo curled her furry body around my bare legs and licked my toes. She didn’t seem to care if I was a good mommy or not, as long as she was fed and had affection now and then.

  I understood her basic needs, having felt that way myself at times. The smell of fresh coffee revived me, and I expected I might live.

  I threw on a robe, poured my coffee, sat down at the computer, and clicked on my Facebook page. I made comments to a few of my “friends” and told the world about my Hummer experience, leaving out the part about upchucking in the bushes at the Clevelander. A girl had to have some secrets, after all.

  I wondered how Candy made out—well, not made-out exactly, I didn’t really want to envision that—but how and if she’d gotten home, or was she still shacked up with Jay doing all the stuff most of us dream about.

  I scrolled down my smart phone and pressed her number. “Hey, Candy. If you’re up give me a call.”

  She answered before I had a chance to disconnect. “Fran, how are you? Are you feeling okay?”

  “Sure. Couldn’t be better,” I lied. “And you? Did you have fun?” I lowered my voice. “Are you still with Jay?”

  “Yes. I tried to convince him to drive me home and sing with you tonight, but he’s got another gig and asked me to stay over. I left a message for Jamie, telling him I won’t be in.”

  “That’s wonderful. Not the fact you won’t be at the club, but that you’re still hanging with Jay. Hey, pass me over. I want to ask him something.”

  “Sure. He’s right here.”

  “Hi Jay. Thanks for coming to my rescue last night.”

  “No problem. Glad you’re feeling better.”

  “Not my usual perky self, but I’m going to live.” I braced myself, wanting to ask him something, yet knowing I was overstepping certain boundaries.

  Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as my dear mother would say. “Jay, don’t hesitate to say no, but America Loves Country is doing auditions here in West Palm Beach next month, and I wondered if you’d want to do a duet with me?”

  “Oh, babydoll, I wish I could, but that’s for unknown artists trying to catch a break. I can’t compete. I’m sorry, honey.”

  “Oh, shucks. Well, thanks anyway. I’m planning to audition, but I don’t feel ready.”

  “Sure you are, but if you’d like, I could help you practice a number or two.”

  “You’d do that for me?” I squealed. “You are the best person in the whole wide world, even if you do sleep around. Tell Candy I said that, would you? Here, let me speak to her, I want to tell her to be extra nice.”

  “You’re on speaker, Fran.” Candy answered. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Oh, you know. Just do what you normally do, only better.”

  She laughed, and so did Jay. “I’m going to hold her to that,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Okay, well you two have fun. I’ll start practicing. Got to figure out what I’ll sing tonight, and for the competition.”

  I sat for a long time, thinking how lucky Candy was and missing John. Well, there was nothing wrong with me calling him, was there? I didn’t have to sit around and wait like ladies did a half century ago. Hell no. John just needs a little encouragement, that’s all.

  I grabbed the phone before I lost my nerve. “John?” I said quickly when he answered. “Are you working today?”

  “Naw. I’ve got the day off. Thought I might go fishing.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t hide my disappointment. “I was going to invite you over.”

  “Really? Why don’t you invite Jay instead?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not interested in him, I like you. Besides Candy’s in his bed right now, and I thought you could come over here, and we could have some playtime.”

  “What do you want with me?”

  “Sex. Friendship. Everything. Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know what we’re doing together. We both want different things, but I can’t seem to stay away.”

  “Good, then come over.”

  “You could come fishing instead. As long as you’re quiet.” John cleared his throat. “Do you like boats?”

  “I don’t have anything against them. Just not today.” Truthfully, I was thrilled that he asked me along, but I had other ideas, which didn’t include sitting on a boat with an unsettled tummy all day.

  “If you don’t feel like fishing, I could bring the catch back to your place and we could fry it up.”

  My stomach rolled, and I jumped up. “Just a sec, John, I’ll call you right back.” I ran to the toilet and had the dry heaves. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and hit redial.

  “John, it was Susie’s bachelorette party last night and I had a little too much to drink. I’m nursing a very bad hangover this morning and the thought of being stuck in a boat and chowing down fish has my stomach doing cartwheels. Maybe we better take a rain check on this.”

  He cleared his throat. “How about if I bring chicken soup instead? And some nice rolls to go with it? Would that be better for you?”
/>
  I smiled, immensely pleased. “It couldn’t be more perfect. When would you like to come?”

  “I’d like to come all the time but how about we make it four?”

  I laughed. “Four would be great. I’m singing at the Candy Bar tonight. Want to come with me?”

  “I would. Feel better, and I’ll see you later.”

  I did a little happy dance when I hung up the phone. Candy wasn’t the only lucky one. I had John to make me feel good and I planned to show him my appreciation in ways he’d never seen before.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  FRAN

  After I got off the phone, I put dressed and went to the nearest book store. I didn’t know a lot about sex, but I had faith that I’d find plenty of books on the subject from more knowledgeable sources than me.

  The old Fran would never walk into a bookstore, march up to the front desk, and ask a sales lady where to find information about sex. Frumpy Fran wouldn’t have any use for that information, whereas, Fearless Fran certainly did.

  “That would be in aisle four. If you have a better idea of what you’re looking for, I could give you a reference number.”

  “I’m not sure. A sex manual, I suppose. Perhaps something that might suggest more unconventional positions?” I saw a few people behind the counter glance at me.

  It made me extremely uncomfortable. Guess I’m not all that sophisticated after all. I lowered my voice to a soft whisper, “Could you please just direct me to the right area?”

  “Pardon me? You will have to speak up.”

  My cheeks burned, and I took a couple of steps back. Fleeing was my only option.

  Just as I was about to make a mad dash for the door, one of the young girls behind the counter stepped forward. “I’ll take you.”

  I stammered, “Thank you,” and I kept my eyes on the floor.

  “Have you read the Fifty Shades books?” the young girl asked.

  “Fifty Shades, no. But I’m about fifty shades of embarrassed right about now.”