Crazy for You

by Claire Applewhite

  “Bunny, did Rocco call the house?” Dan’s anger surged.

  “No, he called your cell. You were in the bathroom, and it kept ringing right there on the nightstand, so I answered it.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Okay.” Bunny uncrossed her legs and frowned. “Danny?”

  His hand on the doorknob, Dan sighed. Almost made it—almost. “Yes, Bunny. What is it?”

  “Who was that woman at the Club last night?”

  Instantly, his morning coffee became heartburn. He wanted to say “what woman?” but to play dumb to Bunny’s “smarts” was out of the question, at least in his mind; however confused it might be at the moment. No, he had a better idea. He would know That Woman. Seize the day! He was a genius, that’s what he was. “She was in my high school class. A long, long time ago. She looks exactly the same, though.”

  “Really? What’s her name?” Now, Bunny studied the back of the cereal box. The connect-the-dots puzzle appeared to fascinate her. Dan snatched a ballpoint pen from the inside pocket of his suit coat. Seized the moment!

  “Here,” he said, offering the pen to his wife. “I think I know just what you want.”

  Without a glance, Bunny accepted the pen and began connecting the dots. “I want to know her name, Danny.”

  Think fast. He had it. “It’s Ava. Ava Gardner. Ever heard of her?”

  Bunny shook her ponytail. She continued to trace. “Nope.”

  “Didn’t think so.” Dan pecked her pink, fair-skinned cheek and turned to leave, taking a deep breath. “Enjoy your day, darling.”

  Finally, Dan was on his way, cruising on the highway towards Dingwerth Distinguished Designs, aka DDD.

  “Never forget the three D’s, Dan,” Mr. Dingwerth had told him the night that he and Bunny announced their engagement. “That’s my credo.”

  At the time, Dan thought that perhaps the three D’s stood for something other than Dingwerth Distinguished Designs, a ruse for some clever “insider” knowledge; but, as “the talk” unfurled, he decided Giles Dingwerth was not a deep man.

  “Think you can remember that?” he had said, puffing on a cigar, his bushy eyebrows fluttering above his wire rimmed glasses when he spoke. Dan replied that he could.

  He angled his black Porsche into his reserved parking spot and yanked the key from ignition. For a moment, he sat, frozen in thought. He hadn’t quite deciphered the world of Giles Dingwerth, or for that matter, his daughter. Most of the time, their respective transparence seemed too simple to be genuine. Still, there were those rare moments when clarity struck. Dan pondered his dilemma: were Mr. Dingwerth and his daughter simple fools blessed with dumb luck, or quiet opportunists searching for the occasional big score?

  Dan had a plan for nearly everything. He admired men with deliberate thoughts, words and actions. The fateful night at the Cinnabar had been the only meaningful exception in his entire life.

  And now, he would call Rocco.

  Three

  “Shhh,” Giles said, easing his pale feet onto the floor. “I thought I heard someone at the door.” A quizzical look crossed her exotic face—the face of a model, a movie star.

  “But who? It’s so early, is it not?”

  “No, Leila, it’s later than you think. We overslept.” A hasty rustling of sheets sifted through the door. A thin line of sunlight streamed through a crack in the heavy drapes. She flipped on the bedside lamp.

  “Oh no, Giles, it’s eight thirty! I’ll miss my nine o’clock photo shoot.”

  “No, you won’t. I’ll send the car around for you. Just give them a quick call if you’re worried.”

  She was in the tiny bathroom now with the water running. The creaky toilet flushed. “When can I see you again?” he asked.

  Swathed in a white bath towel, Leila posed barefoot in the doorway. Even without makeup, without the delicious scarlet gown and all the dazzling jewelry, still exquisite. She pulled on a pair of tight jeans and a simple black T-shirt. With her dark hair pulled back and tinted sunglasses shading her sultry brown eyes, this Ava Gardner was breathtaking.

  One thing Giles Dingwerth knew. He couldn’t live without her. Whatever exorbitant price it took to keep her in his life, he would pay it willingly, more if necessary. A sharp knock at the door shattered his reverie. Giles barely twisted the knob. Startled, he pressed his ear to the faint opening. “Yes?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  “The car,” the maid, Felicity, said. “It is waiting, Mr. Dingwerth.” Mr. Dingwerth wasn’t listening. His arms held Leila’s lush body close to his own. His lips tasted the magic of hers. Another insistent knock broke the spell.

  “Mr. Dingwerth?”

  “Tomorrow?” Giles’ face flushed with fresh desire.

  “I’ll call you.” Leila rushed for the beckoning mahogany door.

  “I’ll be waiting, darling.” He watched her from the wide window that faced the expansive front lawn, the one that bordered the long, twisted drive that led to the gates emblazoned with the gargantuan golden D’s. Yes, just as Felicity as promised, there was the black Mercedes, waiting to ferry Leila to her first modeling assignment of the day. He smiled and turned away, confident that she would arrive on time. After all, Rocco sat behind the wheel.

  Rocco stared straight ahead, not daring to brave a backward glance. Yes, she was beautiful…ah, breathtaking was the word, but then, the whole world had noticed that, had they not? Take Mr. Hunter last night, for example. Rocco almost laughed out loud at the thought of him. Now, there was a man who really had lost his breath.

  “Take a right up here, please,” the glamorous woman said.

  Rocco glanced in the rear view mirror. He wondered if she would mind a little salsa music, eh? He didn’t get to find out. He silenced the shrill cell phone on the second ring. “Rocco speaking,” he said, eyes fixed on the winding, narrow road.

  “Rocco, it’s me, Dan Hunter.”

  Rocco couldn’t have explained why, but instinctively, his voice lowered, his manner became a tad more guarded, and suddenly, he was intensely aware of his passenger’s presence. Had the car in front of him not suddenly stopped, he would have missed her destination.

  “One minute, sir.” He jerked the car beside the curb. He glanced back at the lovely lady. “So sorry about the stop, there.”

  Without a word, she grabbed her purse and flung the car door wide before swinging one long leg onto the sidewalk. Rocco turned around and sighed. Yes, she was mad. He would certainly hear about this from Mr. Dingwerth. He checked his watch—8:56 a.m. Well, he’d gotten her there on time. He would be sure to remember that part, just in case. “Mr. Hunter, are you still there, sir?”

  “Yes, I’m here. Look Rocco, what’s going on? Can you talk or not?”

  “Yes, yes. Now I can, sir.”

  “You can cut the “sir” stuff, Rocco. I’m younger than you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you get the information? You know, about last night?”

  “Oh yes. I tried to call you, but the wife…”

  “Yes, the wife told me all about your little chat. From now on, what we say stays between us. Right?”

  A tense pause lapsed.

  “Right?”

  “What’s happened, Mr. Hunter?”

  “What do you think has happened, Rocco? I’ve met someone. Now, who is she?”

  The spicy scent of her perfume still clung to the backseat of the car. Rocco simply did not know what he should say or do.

  “Well, do you know her or not?”

  “Oh, I know her alright. But, there is one thing you should know, I think.”

  “What’s her name, Rocco? Just tell me her name, for starters anyway.”

  “Her name is Leila. Leila Bolivar. She is from Venezuela. Caracas, I think.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Uh-oh.” Rocco chuckled. “My sources are not part of our deal, do you not remember that?”

  “Okay, okay. Does sh
e speak English?”

  “Yes.” Again, Rocco laughed. “Do I speak English? Yes. I also speak Spanish. And, so does she. But, there is the one other thing.”

  “I should say so. Our deal included her phone number, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember. That, I know.”

  “Okay.” Rocco heard Dan take a deep breath on the other end of the line. Finally, he spoke in a gruff, low growl. “Rocco, what the hell is the problem?”

  “There is still the one thing about her you should know.”

  Dan chuckled. “Nothing you can say is going to keep me from calling her. Nothing. I mean, what is it? Is she married or something?” Rocco cleared his throat. He had been dreading this moment. Now, it had arrived.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Married?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Mr. Hunter. To a wealthy businessman from Venezuela. You should be very, very careful, is my best advice.”

  “Venezuela? Why is she here?”

  “She is a model. And, you should know something else too.” To Rocco, Dan sounded furious now, maybe with him, he couldn’t say why. He had done his job, had he not?

  “What else is there? Can’t you say something cheerful for a change, something that might give me a good laugh? I’ll tell you, I could really use a good laugh today. Tell me something funny.”

  Rocco took a deep breath. Funny, eh? Did he dare? “Leila Bolivar is married, like I told you, Mr. Hunter. But she is a very busy lady. She has time on her hands, or used to, until the Cinnabar.”

  “Look, what are you trying to tell me?”

  “I am trying to say that she came to the club to meet a date, Mr. Hunter.”

  “Did she?”

  “What?”

  “Meet him?”

  “It would seem so. She was with him this morning.”

  “Well, I don’t care who he is. That doesn’t matter. I want to meet her.”

  “But Mr. Hunter…”

  “Don’t try to talk me out of this, Rocco. You can’t. My mind’s already made up. And don’t go judging me, either. A deal is a deal. Now, meet me at the club at noon today. I’ll be hanging around the dining room somewhere, looking for you. You give me the phone number, and I’ll give you the money, and you’ll keep your mouth shut, like we agreed. Everybody’s happy. You and me, we call it even.” Rocco cleared his throat.

  “Yes, Mr. Hunter.”

  Rocco clicked off and sat in the car for a moment, deep in thought. In his mind, nothing about this deal even approached “even.”

  “Mommy?” Bunny giggled into the phone. “I’m off to the club to play some tennis. What? Well, it’s Monday. Penny and Candy should be there, don’t you remember? I could ask them. Who? Oh. Danny’s fine. Well, I think so. He always looks that way, Mommy. He’s fine, really.” A few kisses into the phone and “bye.”

  Bunny headed for the shower. She didn’t understand why June Senior worried so much about Danny’s feelings. Danny didn’t worry that much about June’s, at least in Bunny’s opinion. Besides, what more could Danny want, now that he had Bunny’s money—oops!—she meant her perfect life, to share with her and of course, her wonderful Mommy.

  She yanked the pink elastic band from her ponytail and hopped into the steamy shower. That’s what she talked to Danny about this morning—because in her opinion, that’s what she had to do every now and then, lest he forget The Plan, and how well it had worked out for him. And we wouldn’t want that.

  Daddy had given her that little piece of advice the night before their wedding. He’d said, “Why Bunnykins, every now and then, I have to remind your mother where she was when I first met her and where she’d still be if I hadn’t rescued her from endless cans of Chef Boy-ar-Dee, and I advise you to do the same with young Daniel. It’s surely worked like a charm all these years for me.”

  Well, thought Bunny, while she rinsed the bubblegum-scented shampoo from her hair, it certainly had kept June Senior in line, so to speak. Danny, on the other hand, was another bowl of jelly beans. For one thing, Danny was much better looking than June Senior had ever been. He was smarter, certainly more athletic, and of course, there was his smile.

  All of Bunny’s friends told her they thought Dan was a real catch, and she believed them. She could tell by the way they looked at him sometimes, and vice versa, that she’d done well for herself. See, it wasn’t easy keeping him in line, Daddy, not like it was for you with Mommy. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel, one with her name, “Bunny,” embroidered in curly pink letters—and she wondered. She couldn’t help herself. For some strange reason, That Woman from the club was on her mind.

  “Thank you, Felicity,” June said.

  The small woman finished filling June’s bone china coffee cup and turned to leave, struggling to balance the oversized silver coffee pot. The worry lines on her forehead looked more prominent this morning, bathed in the morning sunlight that streamed through the sheer curtains. June, however, did not notice them.

  “You know, Giles,” June Senior said, lifting her pointed chin, “you look different to me this morning. Did you know that?” She studied the plain cornflakes in the flowered bone china bowl in front of her, and sprinkled two generous spoonfuls of sugar over them. “These need some bananas or something, don’t you think so, Giles? Giles, whatever is on your mind?”

  “Mind?” her husband replied. “I don’t mind. Whatever you think is best, darling.” He took a sip from his cup. Meanwhile, his toast and marmalade remained untouched.

  “Oh, Felicity!” June said. “Could you please bring me some sliced bananas?”

  Giles nodded and snatched his silver spoon. “Of course, June. Bananas are too plain.”

  June frowned and stared at the cornflakes. Don’t you just love cereal? You know, I like my food plain, but not too plain, don’t you agree, Giles?”

  “Yes, well,” Giles said. For a moment, June seemed speechless, but the moment didn’t last.

  “You know, I spoke to Bunny this morning, Giles.”

  Giles munched his toast. His mouth full of crumbs, marmalade dripping from his lips, he attempted an answer. “Bananas, June. Right.”

  “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed it or not, but you know, Dan just seems so distracted these days, even when he’s with Bunny. And cross! Did you hear the way he snapped at me the other day? Well, of course you did, what am I saying?”

  Without a word, Felicity entered the dining room bearing a small dish of sliced bananas on a silver tray. Her narrow mouth pursed in restraint, she set the dish next to June, her eyes downcast.

  “Thank you, Felicity,” June said. She took a deep breath and arranged some banana slices on the cereal, then trickled some milk from a tiny bone china pitcher into the bowl. She paused until the maid had left the room to continue her interrogation. “So, tell me Giles, what do you think? You don’t suspect anything foul, do you? But seriously now, Giles, don’t you think that Dan is a bit distracted these days? You do think so, I can tell, I just know you agree with me on this.”

  She opened her mouth with the tiny yellow teeth, and took a large bite of soggy cornflakes and bananas. A fly landed on the back of Giles’ hand. He whisked it off and rose from the table. His gaze seemed fixed on a distant object.

  “Chicken will be fine, June. See you tonight, darling.” He strolled through the door and down the drive and through the massive gates, where Rocco waited with the Mercedes. Time to check up on young Daniel.

  June ate her cornflakes and bananas in silence. What was that about a chicken? Hmmm, couldn’t possibly say. Giles rambled on about so many things, didn’t he? Well, all right then, as Giles wished. She supposed they would have chicken tonight.

  Leila ran her long fingers through her thick, dark hair and sighed. What a morning it had been already, and now, she would head back to her hotel room. She wanted some time to think. For one thing, that stranger at the Cin
nabar Club loomed large in her imagination. Why he had caught her eye, well, she couldn’t say exactly, but…there it stayed. The love bug had bitten. She had to know who he was. But, she asked herself, why? She didn’t need another lover, did she? There was something about this one that magnetized her, though. Yes, it was his smile. Beautiful. Promising. Young. That was it, she decided. He made her feel young again, and she loved that feeling. She loved it very much.

  Maybe the waiter at the Cinnabar would know his name; the one who resembled the man that had driven her to her first sitting this morning. She wondered if he worked at the club. Well, she thought, while digging in the depths of her sack-like purse for her cell phone, there was one way to find out.

  She would not wait for long. Almost as soon as she found the phone, it rang.

  “Leila Bolivar?” a man’s voice said.

  Leila frowned. She couldn’t quite place it, but the voice sounded oddly familiar. Okay, she decided, she would answer. “Yes,” was all she said.

  “This is Rocco Suarez, your driver from this morning, ma’am.”

  Leila felt puzzled. How did he know that she was preparing to call a driver? Hmmm. “Yes, I remember.” Go on, I’m waiting.

  Rocco cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am. I wondered if you would be dining at the Cinnabar Club again, perhaps sometime very soon, ma’am.”

  Hmmm. Yes, now she understood. Rocco worked as a waiter at the Cinnabar Club. That’s when she first noticed him. Apparently, he had noticed her too. Was he asking her out?

  “I’m not sure, Rocco. Why do you ask?”

  “I have a friend, Miss Bolivar, who would very much like to meet you.”

  “A friend?”

  “Sí.”

  “You know, I was just getting ready to call a taxi, but if you could pick me up…”

  “If I could, I would, believe me. But, I cannot leave the club, you know.”