A Sixer of Tequila

by Tricia O'Malley

  “Althea! An honest delight it is to meet you, I tell you. Miss Elva speaks of you so highly,” David boomed.

  “Does she now?” I slid a glance over his shoulder to Miss Elva who merely looked away, pretending to examine a potted flower plant outside the restaurant.

  “Of course she does. Says you’re one of her best friends and a renowned psychic. I’m so happy to meet you.” I caught Randall stiffening at the word ‘psychic,’ and felt my walls go up. Here we go, I thought, another skeptic. People always had a reaction to me one way or the other, something I should be used to by now.

  “That’s very kind of her. I’m honored to call Miss Elva my friend.”

  Miss Elva smiled at me over David’s shoulder and I felt the knot loosen in my stomach. It seemed we were back to the norm, and if it meant a few dinners out with her new love interest, I was happy to be here. Even if I could tell Randall was less than enthused with my profession. I could only imagine what he would think of Miss Elva if she told him all the magick and voodoo she could perform. Wondering briefly if Miss Elva had enlightened these men as to her extra-special abilities, I followed them to the door of Beau’s upscale restaurant.

  “As you should be. She’s an up-and-coming fashion designer. I’ve seen her stuff, and I have to tell you – she’s going to be the next big thing in resort wear. Trust me, I know a good business venture when I see it. And Elva here? Well, she’s got the instincts. It’s gonna be a hit, that it is.”

  Just a fashion designer? I raised an eyebrow at Miss Elva, our silent communication telling me everything I needed to know.

  You didn’t tell him about your other profession.

  That’s on a need-to-know basis.

  You don’t think your lover needs to know?

  He only needs to know how to please me, child.

  Enough of that, I thought, and closed that wave of communication.

  Dinner just got a lot more interesting.

  Chapter Seven

  “So, ladies, may I order for you or do you prefer to do the picking?” David asked. I suspected he liked to order for everyone. Unfortunately for him, I preferred to look at the seafood underwater when I was diving instead of eating it, so I had to choose carefully at Beau’s seafood restaurant.

  “I’m sorry, I have a limited number of options here. I’ll go with the vegetarian pasta.” I smiled at David and he beamed back at me, making me feel comfortable once again.

  “No problem, lovie, I just like to ask. You get whatever you like best. Elva?”

  I noticed he got a free pass on not addressing Miss Elva as Miss Elva, and wondered how he pulled that off. Then again, maybe I didn’t really want to know.

  “You go ahead and pick for me. I trust your judgment,” Miss Elva positively purred as she closed her menu. I did my best not to give her side-eye.

  “I’ll have the scallops,” Randall decided. He closed his menu and we all waited while David boomed out our order for the hovering waiter, and really for the whole restaurant to hear. This one did not move about his world softly.

  I turned to Randall while David reached across the table to hold Miss Elva’s hand, entertaining her with a story about flamingo-themed diapers. “Do you live on Eleuthera as well?” I asked.

  “I do. I’m head of merchandising and operations for my dad’s company, and we kind of have our own little estate on Eleuthera. I’m in and out of Miami frequently for meetings and to oversee production, but I love the quieter life on the island. It’s a good contrast for me, and I get the best of both worlds.”

  “Miami night life when you want it, reading on the beach when you don’t?”

  “Pretty much. Have you been to Eleuthera?”

  “I haven’t. I’ve heard the diving is nice. The reefs are still intact, I’m told, unlike some of the bigger Bahamian islands?”

  “The diving is excellent, yes. There’s a famous drift dive on one side of the island; I highly recommend it if you dive.”

  “I do. Underwater photography is actually a hobby of mine that’s kind of turned into a side gig for me. I sell my prints online. It’s not extremely lucrative, but it’s a nice outlet for my creativity.”

  “That’s fantastic. I’ve never been good with a camera. If you’re able to get half as good as whoever took these photos” – Randall gestured to the black and white photos on the wall of the restaurant – “maybe you’ll make some good money someday.”

  I wondered if he knew he was being insulting, but decided to gently put him in his place.

  “These are my prints.”

  “Is that so? I’m shocked!” Randall said, looking appropriately chagrined. Then, ever the gentleman, he added, “I’m sorry, I must have sounded like a complete ass there, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have assumed you weren’t capable of producing art of this quality.”

  “It’s fine. I have a tendency to downplay my work,” I admitted, taking a sip of the mojito the waiter had slid in front of me.

  “That she does,” Miss Elva confirmed, leaning in to our conversation. “Did you hear that, David? These fine prints on the wall are done by Althea herself. Not only is she the best psychic tarot card reader this side of the Mississippi, but she’s a damn good photographer.”

  I noticed the smile fade from Randall’s face again after the word ‘psychic,’ but David boomed over my thoughts.

  “That is fantastic. I tell you, Althea, I’ve got just the spot for a few of your prints. We just remodeled a wing of our house on the island. I’d like to buy a few of your prints for the wall. Big ones, like these. Can you come take a look and pick what works best?”

  “Um… you want me to come to the Bahamas? For a few prints? Wouldn’t it be easier for me to just send you some suggestions? You can see my images on my website.”

  “Naw, you should come. I know one thing and that’s flamingos. The rest I leave up to professionals like my son or the decorators. You come on down and see the house, pick the prints. I trust you.”

  “I –”

  Randall spoke up. “Why don’t you invite them to the gala this weekend? Then they’d have a party and an excuse to look at the new space.”

  “Dang it, that’s a fabulous idea. Want to come to my gala this weekend, ladies? It’s a big ’un, let me tell you that. We pull out all the stops. This isn’t just a downhome BBQ in the Bahamian bush – though let me tell you, I’d likely prefer that to all the pomp and circumstance. But one thing I’ve learned is that rich people love to be catered to and they love a grand party. I give them one. They buy my flamingos. It’s win-win.”

  “I love a gala!” Miss Elva all but crawled over the table to David and I barely restrained myself from rolling my eyes. “It’s a perfect excuse to dress up. What’s the theme?”

  “We’re going with a seventies soul disco this time,” David said, tossing his glass of whiskey back like water and signaling to the waiter for another.

  “Even better. I have so many sequined things I could wear,” Miss Elva laughed, then turned to me. “Her, I’m not sure about.”

  “I would assume you’d help her,” David whispered – which, for him, was the level of a normal speaking voice.

  “I do what I can, but you know…” Miss Elva shrugged, as if to say there was only so much she could do.

  “I think you look lovely tonight, Althea. The blue is a pretty color,” Randall said, smoothly cutting over the awkwardness. Despite his misgivings about my profession, I found him to be perfectly charming.

  “Honestly, I’d have to check what we have going on. And find someone to watch Hank. It’s a little last-minute.”

  “Well, you two just let me know. Bring your friends. The more the merrier!” David insisted.

  “Would we fly from Miami?”

  “Naw, I’d send a plane for you at Key West. Much closer.”

  “You’d send a plane. For us?”

  “Sure. Elva can’t be traveling commercial, now, can she? Not a queen like this.” David pressed a lavish ki
ss to Miss Elva’s cheek and I swear to goddess she giggled at him.

  Giggled.

  “We’ll let you know,” I said, desperate to change the subject and process the fact that I’d just heard Miss Elva simper over a man. Luckily, Beau stepped out from kitchen and made his way to the table. He looked extra handsome tonight, his tanned skin offset nicely by a mint green button-down and white pants.

  “Beau, these lovely gentleman just invited us to their gala in the Bahamas next weekend. They say we can bring our friends,” Miss Elva all but purred, then she turned to David. “Beau owns this fine establishment and Lucky’s Tiki Bar at the end of the strip.”

  “Both fantastic places,” David said, shaking Beau’s hand so hard I saw him wince. “You must come for the gala. We’d love to have you.”

  “That’s certainly kind of you to invite me,” Beau said, and despite my obvious glare about not wanting to go to the party, added, “I’ll have to check my schedule, but I’d love to attend a gala.”

  “See? It’ll be a hoot, won’t it, Althea? We’ll send the plane,” David insisted.

  “Yes, they’ll send the plane, Althea.” Beau turned and beamed at me, ignoring the death stare in my eyes. “I’m sorry, I have to follow up in the kitchen. Enjoy your meal – dessert’s on me,” Beau said, his attention caught by a waiter motioning to him from the back. Saying his goodbyes, he dipped out, with a wink over his shoulder to me. Traitor, I thought.

  Miss Elva giggled at David once more.

  “Have you had any updates on your stolen flamingo? It’s quite the talk of the town. I’m sorry to hear about it.”

  Randall’s hand tightened on his wine glass, and I wondered it didn’t snap in his hand. His lips had thinned, and he pressed them together before inhaling once and forcing himself to calm down. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’d gone from charming to lethal in seconds.

  “I’m sorry, I’m still really upset about it. I hate thieves,” Randall admitted, taking a large swallow of his wine.

  “We both do. But we’ll make it right. I’ve already got another flamingo on its way over to the golf course. It wasn’t their fault it got stolen. Sometimes these things happen, though I swear it’s been happening more of late. Flamingos seem to be the hot thing right now – which, mind you, I am not complaining about, but with that has come a significant rise in theft.”

  “More than one flamingo has been stolen?” I had no idea that flamingos were a hot item to take. Who knew there was such an underground world of hidden flamingo thievery? Was there a black market for flamingos? Or would it be a pink market? I did my best not to sputter out a laugh by sucking the rest of my mojito down.

  “Yes, lately it’s become quite a thing. Namely the larger ones, which as you can imagine is annoying for us. They’re more expensive, more difficult to produce, and harder to ship. Randall oversees it all and I know it’s been a headache for him, trying to figure out what’s been going on.”

  “That it has,” Randall said, and smiled gratefully when the waiter filled his wine up.

  “It’s a crying shame, that it is. Flamingos are meant to give people joy. Stealing them – well, who has the time? Just ridiculous.”

  “I have to be honest, I thought it was just kids having a prank,” I admitted.

  “I would think so too, if it hadn’t happened a few times now.” David shook his head sadly.

  Miss Elva gasped. “Are you saying what I’m thinking?”

  “That’s right. A serial flamingo thief.”

  Flocking unreal, I thought, and buried my nose in my drink.

  Chapter Eight

  “Althea.”

  I was just diving into the desserts that Beau had sent out – a molten chocolate lava cake with raspberry sorbet for me, perfectly cooked and oozing scrumptious chocolate inside.

  Goosebumps ran down my neck. I knew that voice.

  “Cash.”

  Damn it. Why did this man have to look so devilishly handsome every time I saw him? Just once I’d like to see him out of sorts, sweating, maybe with food stuck in his teeth. Anything to make him just a little more like us mere mortals.

  “Cash! I haven’t seen you in ages. What brings you here?” David slapped a hand on the table, making me jump. Of course he would know Cash. Everyone with money seemed to know Cash.

  “I’m having a late dinner with a few of my partners.”

  I subtly glanced over my shoulder to see a trio of suits at another table. No girlfriend to be seen. I wondered if he was still with his latest girlfriend or if he had moved on. I wondered if he missed me.

  Wait. Why was I thinking these things? I enjoyed being with Trace. Was it just human nature to want your ex to miss you? Or was I still attracted to Cash? Stubbornly, I stabbed my spoon into my cake, not caring if it was rude to eat while he stood there. It was vitally important for me to eat this lava cake at the correct temperature.

  “Are you still considering the investment on Eleuthera?” David asked. I looked up at Cash, interested despite myself.

  “I am. I like that it’s focused on sustainability and bringing jobs to the locals. A more cohesive and inclusive tourist destination.”

  “We’ll talk more. I’m interested,” David said.

  “Of course. You have my number. I’m sorry, I just wanted to quickly say hello. I’m being rude to my guests. Althea, you look lovely as always. I hope you’re well.”

  I quickly tried to swallow a mouthful of oozing chocolate and ended up sputtering so hard that Cash thumped me roundly on the back until I could breathe again.

  “Yup, well as can be,” I sputtered.

  Cash smiled his devastating smile at me, and tucked a loose curl behind my ear.

  “Good to hear. I hope to see you soon.”

  With that, he was gone, seeming to take all the air in the room with him. I gulped my water down. Was it hot in here? It felt like it was hot.

  “Smooth,” Miss Elva muttered, focusing on her key lime pie and shaking her head sadly.

  “You know Cash?” Randall guessed.

  “Oh, yes. We dated briefly,” I admitted.

  “Ah. Is this the one you’re semi-involved with?”

  “No, that’s a different one.” Great, now I sounded like I got around.

  “Hot commodity.” David beamed his appreciation at me.

  “Just wait until I start putting her in my Elva creations. Then she’ll really shine,” Miss Elva agreed.

  I sighed. “I like my maxi-dresses.”

  “Of course you do, honey. It’s best you stay relatable for your clients and all.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, right where the pressure had begun to build, and wondered how much longer I had to sit at this table.

  “So, tell us about being a psychic and all that.” David stabbed the air with his spoon, chocolate flying onto the linen tablecloth. “Is it fun?”

  “Is it… fun?” I paused and considered that. Usually people asked if I could read their minds or how it worked to see the future. Rarely did people ask me if I enjoyed it. “It is fun. I like helping people find their way, and it’s really a beautiful thing to be able to read tarot and see what the future will hold for people.”

  “That’s cool. Can you read people’s minds?” Randall asked, his gaze level on mine.

  “Nope.”

  “That’s good. I can imagine that would get annoying.” Randall smiled at me.

  “Right? All those thoughts all day long? Yeesh.” I finished my dessert and slid a glance at Miss Elva, who just shook her head at me.

  Liar, liar.

  Chapter Nine

  After a fitful night of sleep, during which both Cash and Trace made appearances in my dreams – proving Rosita correct on the efficiency aspects of more than one man – I woke grubby-eyed and on edge. I was thinking about Miss Elva’s warning that a storm was brewing and I couldn’t help but feel that the Flamingo King was smack dab at the center of it all.

  My phone rang and I rolled
over to see Luna’s name flash on the screen. It wasn’t like her to call this early; usually she would text me, knowing that I wasn’t fit for communication before my first cup of coffee. Even Hank rolled over and gave a snort toward the phone before burrowing his nose back under a blanket.

  “I’ve not had coffee,” I said into the phone, warning Luna as I pushed my mop of curls out of my face.

  “That’s fine, I’ve barely finished mine. I need to talk to you though. I think we have another situation.”

  “Define situation.”

  “You know, the situations we seem to have stumbled our way into the past few months.”

  Luna was being kind. I had mainly stumbled my way into situations I shouldn’t be involved in and she’d blindly followed, doing her best to keep me from doing something stupid like getting myself killed.

  “Talk.”

  “Miss Elva called me last night and said we’re going to the Bahamas this weekend? For a gala? What’s the deal?”

  “Are we really doing that? I don’t even have anything to wear to a gala. As I’ve been routinely reminded, my fashion sense is lacking.”

  “It’s not lacking, it’s just you. And that’s absolutely fine, Althea. You know how beautiful I think you are.”

  “I love you. You’re too good for me.”

  “I know. But keep telling me anyway,” Luna’s laugh, like angels dancing, made me smile as it always did.

  “So are we really going to this shindig?”

  “It seems so. Don’t worry – I’ll help you with an outfit if you need something fancy. However, that’s not entirely why I’m calling, though I certainly think it’s all connected. And because of that, you and I need to do some magickal prep before this weekend.”

  “Nooooo,” I groaned, punching a pillow with my fist. I’d only recently discovered that I had a few more hidden talents aside from my psychic abilities. A reluctant witch was I, and that was the truth of it. Luna, a white witch who could effortlessly perform acts of great magick with an ease and delicacy that I certainly lacked, was doing her best to train me in her path. Thus far, it had not gone well.