Crazy in Paradise

by Brown, Deborah

  “None of your business. Get in your car. And don’t come back or I’ll have you arrested.”

  “I think calling the police would be a good idea.” I sounded more confident than I felt.

  He took a step forward. “Get out of here. Now.”

  I jumped into my SUV, locked the door, glanced in the rear view, and saw Joseph walking up the driveway. I waited until he was at my driver’s side door before I rolled down the window. “Who the hell is that scary guy?”

  Joseph snorted. “You haven’t met? Well, let me introduce you two.”

  “This is Madison Westin, the real owner of the property. Madison, meet Will, the manager,” Joseph introduced. “I don’t need to tell you to play nice, do I?” he said, while looking in Will’s direction.

  Will stepped forward quickly and extended his hand. “Good to meet you. I thought you were a salesperson or maybe saving souls, and I have a strict no trespass policy. I’m sure you’d agree.”

  “You’re the manager,” I said, with a bit of an incredulous tone, staring at him.

  Finally realizing that I wasn’t going to shake hands, he pulled his arm back and glared at me. “This is obviously not the ideal way to meet,” Will said. “Why didn’t you come to my cottage first, not just walk around banging on all of the doors?”

  “I did knock and there was no answer.”

  “I must have stepped out.”

  “Really?” He’s a slick one.

  “What can I help you with?” He stood there smiling but his face simmered with anger.

  I remembered Joseph’s warning about checking my back. “I came by to introduce myself, say hello to Joseph. I should’ve contacted Tucker to schedule this meeting.”

  “That would’ve been a good idea,” he said, giving me a tight smile.

  “I’m going to contact Tucker and have him arrange a meeting for the three of us.”

  “In the meantime, if you have any questions, call first, and if it’s something I can’t answer then I can be here when you arrive.”

  “I’m glad we met,” I said, turning to Joseph. “Thank you for the intro.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. It sounded like a high-pitched cackle. He enjoyed this kind of drama.

  “Oh yeah, nice to meet you,” Will said. With a backhanded wave, he turned and disappeared down the drive.

  I opened the car door, and Joseph whispered, “That went well.” He walked across the street to where the neighbor stood drinking a beer, listening to every word.

  I decided to take the long way home, go by the beach, and calm my nerves after the confrontation with Will. As first meetings go, it had been terrible, I thought. It was a day of surprises and more eventful than I could’ve imagined when I started out this morning. The transition wasn’t going to be an easy one. Maybe I should take a step back and think about it from Will’s point of view.

  The idea of spending the evening with Zach brought a smile to my face.

  Chapter 6

  Everything was quiet at home; too much so. Curled up on the chaise, Jazz lifted his head and meowed at me.

  “Is Zach sleeping?” I asked Jazz, but he’d already tucked his head back into his belly.

  Intuition kicked in. Zach had left. I ran into the house, looked around then headed upstairs. The bed had been made, with no evidence he’d ever stayed the night. I walked back down to the kitchen to get a glass of wine, trying hard not to cry. What did I expect? Of course he would leave this way, with no awkward good-byes.

  A note lay on the counter. I didn’t want to read the damn thing because I already knew it wasn’t going to say ‘I’ll be right back’.

  ‘Thank you, Madison. I had to leave. Catch up with you later.’

  I slam dunked it into the trash. “That was nice and short,” I told Jazz, who’d followed me inside and sat meowing.

  I went upstairs to change into my bathing suit. There was nothing a long swim couldn’t cure. The truth was, I wanted to keep Zach. But he wasn’t some lost puppy. He was a full-grown man. A hot man. Now would be a good time to read my aunt’s letter. I’d run out of excuses. Zach had taken his drama and left.

  I felt like a new woman when I stepped out of the pool, wrapping myself in an oversized beach towel. I sat down on the chaise, slowly opened the envelope and pulled out a hand-painted watercolor card of a white sandy beach. Inside were several sheets of paper.

  Dearest Madison:

  If you are reading these words, then I am no longer here. I love you as if you were my own daughter. I appreciate that when you became an adult, we stayed the best of friends. You’re a courageous young woman with a wicked sense of humor. Those are terrific qualities, and you should never sell yourself short or accept less than your worth.

  You and your brother turned out amazingly well considering the hell children you both were. I enjoyed every moment of both of your lives. Sometimes when you two got into trouble, I had to try hard not to laugh.

  I especially liked the time when you and Brad went house to house early on a Sunday morning taking everyone’s newspaper and redistributing them to the people who didn’t take the paper; it was old man Simms who called your mother. What a snoopy old man, always looking out his windows and lurking around. Madeline made me promise not to tell so you two would think spies were everywhere. When she talked to him, he told her that if she didn’t want him telling everyone in the neighborhood, he wanted a basket of her baked goods at Christmas every year. Can you imagine him blackmailing her? The funny part was that she’d never baked anything in her life. She bought the cookies from a local bakery and passed them off as homemade.

  Don’t think I short-changed Brad. When he moved to Florida, I couldn’t have been happier unless, of course, you’d moved here too. You know Madeline wouldn’t be far behind. Brad and I had many adventures that weren’t only fun, but prosperous. We own several businesses together, and I left him my interest in all of them.

  I think you’ll enjoy managing The Cottages. You’re the best woman for the job. In the end, it’s not about what I want; you have to make the decision that’s right for you. My hope is you’ll make Tarpon Cove your home, and start a new life. Explore all your options, take as much time as you need, and make the right decision for yourself.

  There are two men in town, Zach Lazarro and Luc Baptiste, who will help you anytime. They are trustworthy men with integrity. You’ll like both of them. As you know, I love to collect IOU’s having nothing to do with money. Zach and Luc both owe me, and I leave my markers to you. My best advice is to start collecting your own.

  If you ever need any information as to what’s going on in The Cove, Jake’s Bar is the place to go. Nothing happens in The Keys that Jake doesn’t know about. In my personal box is an envelope for him. Jake and I were partners, and I’m signing over my interest to him. Do you know how much fun it is for this old woman to own a piece of a bar? My game of pool has improved immensely, not to mention darts. Please give him the letter with my love.

  In the same box are other letters. One is for Madeline. Give her a hug and a kiss for me. Make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble.

  There are also envelopes for Luc Baptiste and Zach Lazarro. Honey, they’re both incredibly sexy men, and I don’t think either one has a girlfriend, hint, hint. The three of us had the best adventures. They kept me young at heart.

  Walk on the beach, collect seashells, and open your heart to all that is new. You deserve lots of happiness. I love you Madison. Enjoy every day. Live with no regrets.

  “I love you too, Aunt Elizabeth.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I’m making Tarpon Cove my home,” I said to no one. “How about you Jazz? You like it here, don’t you?” He snored so loudly I assumed the answer must be yes.

  In truth, I wanted to take control of The Cottages and run them in the same manner as I had watched my aunt do all those summers. And make my own mark.

  Chapter 7

  Another scorching day in South Florida, with th
e ceiling fans working overtime in every room of the house. In the kitchen stood a floor fan that blew on Jazz as he lay stretched out on the cool ceramic tiles. I loved to watch the fan blow his black fur straight up, and at the same time, bend over the counter enjoying the air up my skirt. At a noise behind me, I turned to find Zach leaning against the doorway, an amused smile on his face.

  “Honey, I’m home,” he said.

  “How’d you get in? I put a lock on the fence to keep bleeding people out.” I knew I sounded whiny, and I didn’t care. Seven days had gone by. But who was counting?

  “I have a way with locks,” he smiled. He walked towards me, pulling a beautiful bouquet of white tulips from behind his back. “Thank you for being the best nurse,” he said, and handed me the flowers. He leaned in and kissed me.

  Giddy but trying to sound nonchalant, I said, “They’re beautiful. I’ll put them in water.” I walked over to the kitchen sink. “Can you reach the vase for me?”

  When I turned my back he came up behind me, and I could feel his body heat. He pushed me against the counter until our bodies molded together, wrapping his arms around the front of me, vase in hand. I exhaled slowly. I didn’t want him to realize I’d been holding my breath.

  He turned the water on and filled the vase up. I stood there, the flowers in my hand, my mind blank.

  “You need to take the cellophane off,” he whispered in my ear, his breath warm against my cheek. He took the scissors from the chopping block, handing them to me.

  Flustered, I pulled on the wrapping and tried to cut at the same time, getting nowhere. He took the scissors back, unwrapped the flowers, and handed the stems to me one-by-one. Somehow, I managed to get them into the vase without mutilating them. I was so hot for him that I didn’t trust myself to speak. “They really are pretty,” I told him, moving the tulips to the counter.

  “The flowers aren’t the only thing that looks good.” He turned me toward him, his hand on my cheek, and pulled in for a long, slow kiss.

  There was no forgetting him now. When we pressed our bodies together, we were a perfect fit.

  “You forget about me?”

  I was so lost in the kiss that it took me a minute to realize the voice came from inside my house. Zach and I were no longer alone.

  I pushed away. “Who are you and how did you get in?”

  “He’s with me,” Zach said. “My partner, Axe.”

  Axe looked like he just walked in off the beach, his sandy brown hair a mess, stubbled chin.

  “Meet Madison, the woman who saved my life.”

  “Pleasure, Ma’am.” He winked.

  “Doesn’t anyone use the front door?” I asked. It was a legitimate question.

  Axe laughed, pointing to Zach. “Hey, I just followed him.”

  “I need a favor,” Zach said to me. “I have to go out of town for a couple of days. I scheduled my car for some repairs, and it takes forever to get an appointment. Would you drop it off for me? Jimmy Spoon, the guy who owns the place, had a few problems last night and won’t be opening until this afternoon. I could do it myself, but I’d have to leave it out front and it’s not in the greatest neighborhood.”

  “Another IOU?” I smiled.

  “You already have six.”

  “You agree to seven, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  Zach stepped back, dug the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to me. “Good catch.”

  “Didn’t you two just meet a week ago?” Axe asked. “How’d you manage to get six IOU’s?”

  “I got them for nursing care. Doesn’t seem like a lot for a person who saved his life, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I’m staying neutral,” Axe said a big smile on his face. The man oozed charm.

  “Too bad, we already agreed.” Zach said.

  Axe picked my cell phone up off the counter. Zach and I watched while Axe programmed it. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He gave me a lopsided smile. “I put in my number. You never know when you might need help.”

  “Put my info in,” Zach glared at Axe. “You need help,” Zach turned to me, “I’m your first call. If I need Axe’s help, I’ll call him.”

  Axe laughed.

  “I appreciate your taking care of my car. I’ll pick it up from Spoon when I get back.” He wrapped his arm around my neck, pulled me to him, and kissed me again before they both disappeared out the French doors.

  * * *

  Outside, a 1957 black Thunderbird hardtop with portholes, perfection on the outside and in, sat in the driveway. A complete work of art and I couldn’t wait to get behind the wheel.

  When Brad and I were kids, our dad owned a 1957 T-bird convertible. My favorite family picture was of the four of us dressed up for Easter standing in front of the car.

  The address Zach had given me was down by the waterfront, where the fishermen brought in their catch to sell to the seafood brokers. He was right about the neighborhood, though. There were lots of rundown buildings; the area nevertheless had plenty of history and character. If someone took an interest, restoration of the docks would be beneficial for The Cove.

  The sign JS Custom Auto is what stood out. If the gates hadn’t been open, I’d never have guessed how large the business was. While it had the appearance of a normal car repair place, where were the customers? Cars in the lot were in various stages of repair, but why was no work being done? Then the side door opened, and a skinny, fierce-looking man in his mid-forties, with dirty brown hair, and a hard edge to him, walked out.

  He wiped his greasy hands on his pants. “Jimmy Spoon,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Madison Westin.” I presented my dog paw handshake. I forced myself not to look for dirt on my hand.

  “Zach said you’d be dropping off the car. Leave it parked right there.”

  “You don’t seem to be very busy,” I said, looking around.

  “I’m always busy. That’s why you only get in here with an appointment.” He closed the gates and wrapped them with a chain and a lock.

  I had a hard time believing he had any break-ins. His business had electric fencing, with rolled barbed wire at the top, and two German shepherds.

  “Weren’t you at The Cottages the other day?” he asked.

  “Yes. Word has it you’re the neighborhood dealer,” I said, remembering what Joseph told me.

  “People are full of shit. Besides, that would be a violation of my parole,” he stated evenly.

  Parole! I’ve always been good with follow up questions, but I shut up instantly. This was a good time to mind my own business. So I ended with a lame, “Well, there you go!”

  “Zach said you’d need a ride. My car’s outside.” He motioned. “We’ll go through the office so I can set the alarm.”

  “You have a lot of security. Is the neighborhood that bad?”

  “Despite the way the neighborhood looks, it’s quiet. Security keeps the kids out. Anyone with a brain knows if they steal from me I’ll kill them.”

  What do you say to that? Nothing. Nothing would be good.

  We walked through the side door where a silver Mercedes convertible sat parked. “Great car.” I’d expected a pick-up truck complete with a gun rack in the back window.

  “This is my babe magnet.”

  “Do you want a woman because she’s hot for the car you drive?” I laughed.

  “When I have sex on my mind, who cares if she’s thinking about me or my car?”

  His smile made him look even more dangerous, if that were possible. “You can drop me at The Bakery Café,” I said.

  He squealed out of the driveway, burning rubber. I grabbed onto the armrest, and held on until I thought my fingers would break, my other arm clutched to the seat. “Slow down,” I squeaked.

  He rocketed down the street And showed no signs of slowing for the approaching corner. How the hell was he going to make the turn? I squeezed my eyes shut and said a quick prayer. Oh please, I don’t want to die. Spoon jerked on th
e wheel, and with another squeal of tires, the car swerved back and forth, managing to stay upright as we rounded the corner.

  “You’re scaring me!” I yelled. “Pull over, let me out. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

  “Don’t worry so much.”

  “This is not Talladega, and you’re not Dale Jr.”

  “Sit back. I’ll get you to the restaurant in one piece. You know, I wanted to be a pro driver.”

  “If you don’t slow down, I’ll puke in your car,” I threatened.

  He gave me a long hard stare. Mercifully, he slowed down. I knew from personal experience that sick stink was a smell you never get out of your car.

  He pulled up in front of the café, slamming on the brakes, tires squealing. He turned to me and ran his finger across my cheek. “You ever have a problem, I’m your man. Friends call me the problem solver, big or small. Ask anyone.”

  I was both terrified and repulsed. He’s a man who shouldn’t smile. I wanted out of the car. I fumbled with the handle, and couldn’t get the door open. It was locked and Spoon controlled them. I couldn’t unlock them on my own.

  “You’re my kind of woman. I think we’d be great together,” he said, putting his hand on my arm. “Let’s go to dinner, and get to know one another better.”

  I jerked on the door again, and blurted, “I have a boyfriend.”

  “If you break up, give me a call,” he said, looking me up and down. “I got a good feeling about us.” He pushed a button and the locks flew up.

  I yanked the door open, jumped out of the car. “Thanks for the ride.” I forced myself to walk calmly into the café.

  Chapter 8

  I opened my front door, and was surprised to see my mother. “You’re back!” I hugged her.

  “I got home yesterday,” she smiled. “I thought I’d drive down and surprise you, and take you to dinner. We can catch up and you can tell me how the estate is going.”

  “Dinner’s a good idea. I missed you.”