Second Honeymoons Can Be Murder (A Baby Boomer Mystery Book 6)
Page 10
Oh for God’s sake, get a grip, Carol.
Being fired from The Second Honeymoon Game had great appeal all of a sudden. I turned my back and busied myself making the coffee. Slowly. Very slowly, so I didn’t have to respond to Charlie’s admission that he had deliberately gotten Jim out of the house.
Hurry up, Nancy. Don’t leave me alone with this guy.
“Here I am,” my BFF said, breezing into the kitchen with a huge shopping bag. “Did I miss anything?”
You have no idea. I didn’t really say that, of course.
“Nancy’s been filling me in on what’s going on with our classmates while we were waiting for you,” Charlie said, taking the shopping bag from Nancy and helping to unload the food. “Whatever you brought smells delicious.”
“Why don’t we all sit down?” I suggested. “We can put the food out on the table and serve ourselves buffet-style.”
I looked at Nancy and tilted my head in Charlie’s direction, hoping she’d get the hint. Take over, now. Say something. Nancy shot me back a puzzled look, but fortunately, she’s rarely at a loss for words for very long. Like, never.
“It’s so wonderful to see you again, Chuckie. I mean, Charlie,” she corrected. “I’ve seen several of your television shows over the years. But I never realized that you were the producer. I’m so excited to reconnect with you. And, despite what Carol may think, I have no intention of talking you into buying a house here in town. That is,” she amended, “unless you want one, of course. I am one of the most successful real estate agents in Fairport, a town which is certainly a convenient commute to the city.”
Charlie threw back his head and laughed. “I see you haven’t changed a bit, Nancy. You always were a super salesperson. I remember you sold the most candy bars and wrapping paper during our class fundraiser. I think it was a school record.”
Then, he turned to me. “And you haven’t changed either, Carol. I told you that yesterday. That’s why I came to see you today. As I said, I have a proposition for you.”
I heard Nancy gasp. At least, I think it was Nancy. I was so nervous, it could have been me. Oh lord, here it comes. I licked my lips, which were suddenly very dry, and shifted in my chair.
“The suggestions you made in yesterday’s meeting about the show’s casting and direction were brilliant,” Charlie continued, oblivious to my discomfort. “Right on. You always were creative. I want to hire you to be my right arm on The Second Honeymoon Game. Special Assistant to the Producer. What do you say? I hope it’s yes.”
I didn’t know how to react. Probably jumping up and down and screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” would be just a tad unprofessional.
“What about Carrie?” I asked. “Isn’t that her job?”
“No, her duties are completely different. She’s a technical wizard, and her job is to put the nuts and bolts of the show together under my direction. I want you to be part of my creative team.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I responded.
I think I heard Nancy mutter, “That’s a first.” But I could have been mistaken.
“For heaven’s sake, Carol. Why are you hesitating? You have to say yes. This is the chance of a lifetime,” Nancy said. Then she batted her eyes at Charlie. “It’s possible Carol may need an assistant of her own, Charlie. I’d be glad to offer my services. She and I work very well together.”
I burst out laughing, and Nancy looked hurt. “It was just an idea,” she huffed.
“Maybe this will help you make up your mind, Carol,” Charlie said. He named a dollar figure for the position that would keep me, as well as Lucy and Ethel, in designer duds for the rest of our lives.
Nancy’s eyes opened so wide I thought they’d pop right out of her head. And, true to form, before I could respond, she jumped right in with a suggestion of her own. “Carol would be great at that job,” Nancy said. “She’s super imaginative. And always so helpful. Of course, I’m very creative, too. You have to be if you want to be a top producer in today’s cutthroat real estate market. It’s all in knowing the proper way to put a spin on a property. That’s the name of the game these days. Creativity and marketing. Perhaps there’s a way I could be useful to you, too, Charlie. On the television show, I mean.”
I had to hand it to Nancy. When she wants something, she doesn’t give up until she gets it.
“I’m very flattered,” I said to Charlie. “But don’t you have people with professional experience already working on the project? I don’t know anything about putting together a television show. I should have kept my big mouth shut and listened more at yesterday’s meeting; I could have learned something. I’m too opinionated for my own good. It’s one of my worst faults. At least, that’s what Jim says.”
Charlie waved away my objections. “As I said before, I don’t need anyone else for the technical side of the show,” he said, now turned in his chair to give me his full attention. “I want someone who understands the Boomer market, especially the females. That’s who this show is aimed at. They’re our target market for advertising revenue. You fit the bill perfectly. Your suggestions yesterday were spot on. I want to use your brain, Carol. Your creative energy. Your feminine intuition, if that doesn’t sound too corny.”
“I really have to talk to Jim before I give you my answer,” I said. “Does he know anything about this?”
“I’m sure Mack is filling him in at the agency meeting. Do you think he’ll have a problem with this? I hope you don’t have one of those marriages where you have to check every little thing with your husband. You have a mind of your own, don’t you?”
That frosted my cupcakes. I immediately felt defensive. Of myself. Of my husband. Of our marriage. I know what you’re all thinking, and you’re right. I was having another knee-jerk reaction without thinking first.
“I don’t have to check every little thing with my husband, Chuckie,” I said, deliberately choosing his grammar school nickname. “But a long-time, successful marriage like ours is a partnership, based on mutual respect for each other’s opinions. I value Jim’s. Plus, I’m sure he knows much more about television than I do.”
I sat back, folded my arms, and fixed Charlie with an icy stare. “It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?”
Charlie looked shocked at my over-the-top reaction.
“I mean, it’s ironic that you’re practically accusing me of being a doormat to my husband, yet at the same time, you want me to work on a television show called The Second Honeymoon Game. I would hope that only couples who have a solid marriage, like Jim’s and mine, would be contestants on the show. And I have no intention of risking mine.”
Silence. Even from Nancy.
Followed by tension. Lots and lots of that.
What are you trying to do, Carol? Sabotage the first real job offer you’ve gotten in more than twenty-five years? And isn’t Jim always telling you to get a job? Boy, are you being stupid!
Lucy, who’s always super sensitive to my mercurial moods, chose that moment to pad across the kitchen and lick my hand. Then, no kidding, she turned her attention to Charlie, and gave him a little doggie affection, too. Play nice, kids. It’s time to make up.
Then she returned to my side and gave me a penetrating stare. You know you want this job, so say yes. What are you waiting for? Swear to God, that’s what she was telling me.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a staring contest with a canine, but believe me, they can hold eye contact forever! At least, it seems like that to me. Suffice to say, I got her message. Loud and clear.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said to Charlie.
“Yay!” said Nancy, jumping up and giving me a big smooch on the cheek. “I’m so excited! I can’t wait. Bob will be thrilled.”
“Whoa, Nancy,” I said, at the same time that Charlie, now looking very confused, asked, “Who’s Bob?”
“Bob’s my husband, sort of,” Nancy explained. “We’re separated, but dating. It’s a great new way to be married, believe me. In fact,�
�� she wrinkled her brow in thought, carefully, so as not to cause any lasting damage, “that could be a whole new show for you, Charlie. The Married but Dating Game. I bet you’d get fabulous ratings.”
Charlie’s eyes glazed over and he shook his head a few times. Probably trying to clear it after being on the receiving end of yet another one of Nancy’s enthusiastic outbursts. I knew exactly how he felt. I’d been in his position far too many times. So, I did what I usually do—took over the conversation.
“So, when do I start? Oh, and what exactly will I be doing?” I asked.
Charlie leaned back in his chair, clearly more comfortable. “I want to use you as a sounding board for any decisions involving the design of the show, starting with the pilot episode, especially the casting of the first contestants. There’s no time to waste. Your opinion will be the most important one.”
At last. Someone finally realized the value of my opinion. I was in my glory.
“Can you be ready to leave for Florida tomorrow morning?” Charlie asked me. “As you already know, we filming the pilot episode there. We’ve just picked up a major sponsor for the show, and he wants the first episode completed as soon as possible, so our whole timetable has been moved up. We’ll also use snippets for a social media campaign when we get ready to launch the show. It’s much more efficient to do it that way.”
I blinked. Then blinked again.
“Florida? We’re going to Florida?” I responded. “Tomorrow?” I think I’m going to faint.
I didn’t really say the last part, of course.
Chapter 21
When I was a little girl, I played monkey in the middle. Now that I’m grown up, I play muffin in my middle.
My panic must have been reflected on my face. I totally zoned out. Twenty-four hours wasn’t nearly enough time for me to get everything done before taking a trip like that. Plane reservations, packing, losing twenty pounds to fit into last summer’s bathing suit—all these things demanded months of pre-planning. Plus, Mark had been injured. How could I leave my daughter? She’d need me to help nurse him back to health.
How long would I be away? And was Jim going with me, or would I be on my own in a strange new land? With Charlie King, who’d been harboring a yen for me since grade school.
Except, of course, my darling son Mike was already in Florida. So I wouldn’t be all alone. It was a great chance to have a special mom/son bonding experience. I was sure he’d be thrilled. Once I told him. At least, I hoped he would be.
I thought about the dogs—where could they go on such short notice? I’d have to stop the mail and the newspapers. What if it was too late to make those arrangements? Our front steps would be littered with newspapers, and our mailbox would be bursting at the seams. All dead giveaways that Carol and Jim Andrews were away. An open invitation to any local burglar to stop by and steal my Waterford and Wedgewood. How could I take that chance? I’d have to ask the neighbors to help.
Hmmm. Wait a minute. Stop everything. I imagined the look on Phyllis Stevens’s face when I told her Jim and I were flying to Florida tomorrow. And why. Maybe I could do this after all.
I came back from panic mode when I heard Nancy gush, “Oh, Charlie, you’re the best. This is going to be such fun. And, you know, Claire and Larry McGee are in Florida for the winter. They’d be great contestants for the pilot of The Second Honeymoon Game. I’m sure you remember Claire from grammar school. Of course, she wasn’t Claire McGee then. She was Claire Monahan. She transferred into our class in fourth grade.”
Speak up, you doofus. Nancy’s taking over everything.
I cleared my throat. Loudly. “Your suggestion certainly is interesting,” I said. “But I’ll have to think about using Claire and Larry for the show. There are so many factors to consider.” I beamed the tiniest of fake smiles in her direction.
Nancy looked crestfallen that I had dismissed her ideas, and I immediately felt guilty. I got over it though. After all, I was the show’s creative genius, not her. A muse, so to speak. Yes, I liked that image. I was Charlie King’s muse. A muse who needed to get her act together ASAP.
“I don’t know how Jim and I can possibly be ready to leave by tomorrow,” I said, throwing in my husband’s name so there would be no misunderstanding. This Florida trip would include both Jim and me, and not be a chance for Charlie to turn any imagined grammar school crush into a full-blown adult love affair.
“Men usually just throw a few things into a suitcase and they’re ready to go,” Charlie said. “That’s what I do, and I’m sure Jim is the same way. Don’t worry, Carol. He’ll be packed in a jiffy. After all, the most important thing he’s bringing is his laptop. Anything else he needs, he can buy in Florida.”
Oh, yeah, right. I could just see my tightwad husband blowing big bucks on a completely new warm-weather wardrobe. Not going to happen.
“Do you think we can get last-minute plane reservations?” I asked, trying to get into the spirit of the thing. I had to admit, this was pretty exciting stuff for a late middle-aged housewife from the Connecticut sticks. I mean, suburbs.
“Don’t worry about plane reservations for you and Jim,” Charlie said with a mysterious smile. “That’s all taken care of.”
A vision of me flying first-class flashed in my mind. I was sipping a glass of imported champagne and helping myself to an hors d’oeuvre from a delicious assortment proffered by a handsome cabin attendant.
“You seem to have this all planned out, Charlie” Nancy said. “I guess I’ll have to fly down separately. Assuming I’m included in this adventure, of course.”
I tried to ignore Nancy’s expression. She was pouting like a five-year-old child.
“We’ll land at St. Pete-Clearwater Airport,” Charlie continued. “My pilot has already made the arrangements.”
“Your pilot?” I asked. “You know a pilot?”
“I guess you could put it that way,” Charlie said. “He works for me. We’re flying to Florida on my private jet.” He looked down at Lucy and Ethel, now making themselves comfortable around his feet. “And we can’t forget about these two beauties.” He reached down and petted Lucy in her very favorite spot—the center of her head right behind her ears. If she’d been a cat, she would have been purring. “I insist that you bring the dogs with you. The hotel where you’ll be staying is pet-friendly.”
He waited just a beat. Or, maybe two beats.
“There’s room on the plane for you, too, Nancy. That is, if you want to come along. The plane seats twenty comfortably, and it won’t be full.”
“OOOH,” Nancy squealed. “That’s fabulous. I’ll have to clear my calendar, though. I have two house showings scheduled for tomorrow.” She shrugged. “Oh, well. Somebody else in the office will have to handle them. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“I just hope that, if either of the properties you have listed should sell while you’re away, the agent who shows the house will share the commission with you,” I said. All right, I was being petty. And slightly malicious.
Nancy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re always looking out for my best interests, Carol,” she said, her voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm. “Thanks for the reminder. I’ll be sure I make that perfectly clear.”
Charlie turned to me. “Most of the people you and Jim met at yesterday’s meeting are already in Florida,” he said. “They flew down this morning. Including Carol Ann. She just couldn’t get over meeting you. In fact, at dinner last night, she couldn’t stop talking about you.”
“Who’s Carol Ann?” Nancy asked Charlie. “Your wife?” Then, she blushed. “I’m sorry. I’m being much too nosy.” She looked at me. “Wait a second. Isn’t Ann your middle name? Or am I remembering wrong? Oh, Charlie, don’t tell me you married someone with the exact same name as Carol’s. That would be too funny for words. One Carol Ann in the world is quite enough!”
King beamed. “Carol Ann’s my daughter, the undisputed apple of my eye. My wife died when Carol Ann was just a bab
y. It’s been just the two of us for a long time. She was named…”
Now it was my turn to look embarrassed. “I’m sure that’s just a coincidence,” I said quickly, before Charlie could spill his unrequited love for me all over my kitchen table. I don’t know why I was so reluctant to tell Nancy that Charlie had named his daughter after me. After all, she’d been in grammar school with both of us and knew our history. Or, lack thereof. It just felt too intimate.
I know. I know. That really sounds weird. Especially since I’ve shared so many other intimate details of my life with my BFF for over fifty years.
I was saved from further comment by a text from Jim.
Him: R u packed yet?
Me: Nope. Just found out about trip.
Him: Pack light. U always bring 2 much!
My husband, the true romantic.
Chapter 22
The irony of life is that, by the time you’re old enough to know your way around, you realize you’re not going anywhere.
“This is the life,” I said, leaning back in my seat and luxuriating in my surroundings. “I don’t think I could ever fly commercial again after this experience.”
Jim chuckled. “I never thought I’d hear you say that, Carol. Not with your fear of tight places.”
I gave Jim a suspicious look. “I assume your reference to tight places isn’t a comment about my gaining a few pounds over the winter.” Hey, with guys, you never know. Best to get that out in the open right now.
“Because if you are,” I continued, “I want you to know that most people pack on a few extra pounds during the holidays. And now that we’ll be in a warmer climate, I plan to walk a few miles every day. That’ll take the pounds off in a jiffy.” Assuming I don’t overindulge in some of the Sunshine State’s well-known goodies, like key lime pie.
Jim’s response was to throw back his head and laugh at me.