by Tripp Ellis
"I'm sure you'd make a wonderful bartender," Alejandro said. "But you need a little more experience."
"How am I supposed to get experience when nobody will hire me?"
"She's got a point," Jack said. "If I owned a bar, I'd hire you."
"You don't own this bar?" she asked.
Jack looked guilty. "No," he said, sheepishly.
"Then why was I making daiquiris for you?"
"To show off your wonderful talent."
She eyed him curiously. "You really think I'm talented?"
"Absolutely!"
A thin smile curled on her plump lips.
"You know, if you're looking for a job, I know the owner of a sunscreen company, and they are always looking for new bikini models. I could put in a good word."
Her eyes widened. "Would you?"
"Certainly. I can't believe you're not modeling already?"
"I did a little bit, but all the photographers just want to sleep with me."
Jack feigned a look of shock. "Noooo!" he gasped. "That's despicable!"
"It's so annoying."
"Well, I don't want to sleep with you." He was lying.
She gave him a doubtful glance. "Really?"
He shook his head. "Nope! No desire at all. It's not that you are not attractive, you're just not my type."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "That's refreshing." She gave him a big hug. "You're like my new best friend."
She squeezed him tight, and JD's eyes lit up.
Alejandro and I just looked at each other and shook our heads.
The blonde broke free of her hug, then pulled out her phone. "What's your number?"
Jack gave her his digits, and she texted him back. "Now you have my number, so you call me after you talk to your friend, okay?"
"Okay," JD replied.
"You guys are really great, you know that?" She smiled, waved goodbye, and she stumbled toward the door.
Jack launched from his barstool and almost fell. "Let me call you a cab? I don't think you should be driving right now."
"Good idea," she slurred.
JD called a ride, then helped her into the car when it pulled into the parking lot.
Alejandro muttered to me, "Don't bring him around during interviews anymore. Not if you want to stay in business."
I was starving by the time we wrapped up the interviews, so I ordered a cheeseburger and fries.
Jack stumbled back to the bar and took a seat beside me. He was lit up—eyes red and glassy. "I could definitely give her some on-the-job training."
"Well, when you open your own bar, you can do that," I said.
Jack gave me a sour look. "I just might do that. Jack's Place. I like the sound of that."
I rolled my eyes.
"You could always call it Jackasses," Harlan muttered. The salty old Marine sat at the bar, sipping his beer, watching the drama.
"Even better," JD said.
The wheels of industry turned behind JD's eyes. He was floating on a daiquiri cloud that would dissipate when the sugar rush ended. I figured the sweet, fruity-drink hangover would kick in by the evening.
Jack looked at my cheeseburger with envy when it arrived. "How dare you!"
"What? I was hungry!"
"You can't eat cheeseburgers while I'm on a diet?"
I took a big bite and smiled, chewing it obnoxiously.
He glared at me. "Alejandro. I'll take a grilled chicken salad."
"Coming right up!"
JD sat up straight, puffing his chest out with a prideful grin on his face. He seemed quite pleased with his willpower to resist greasy food.
“You know how many calories are in those daiquiris, don’t you?" I asked.
"Liquid calories don't count," he said, dismissively.
I shook my head.
Jack got halfway through his grilled chicken salad, then broke down and ordered a cheeseburger.
After the first bite, I muttered, "So much for the sixpack."
He shot me a dirty look.
Not surprisingly, JD needed a nap after lunch. He crawled into a guest room on the Vivere and passed out. I debated whether to wake him up when it was time to go to the Seven Seas for the interview portion of the pageant. He was still sawing logs as I got dressed for the evening.
The rumble of his snores echoed through the bulkhead. I figured he needed to sleep it off. I slipped on my suit jacket, straightened my tie, then grabbed my gloves and helmet. I strolled across the gangway and down the dock to the parking lot. The Yamazuki X6 sport-bike waited like a caged tiger ready to be released into the wild.
I straddled the crotch-rocket, pulled on my helmet, and cranked up the engine. My hand twisted the throttle a few times, revving the 4-cylinder. A sweet musical note filtered from the exhaust, rattling across the parking lot. The sound of it inspired speed.
A rush of adrenaline coursed through my veins as I let out the clutch and eased out of the marina. With a quick twist of the throttle, and a few shifts, I was blazing down the highway.
Wind whistled through my helmet, and I tried to keep things at a reasonable speed, but it was hard to deny the sheer power of the demon. It begged for more. It was the devil that sat on your shoulder that said, faster, faster!
The last thing I wanted to do was ruin a $2000 designer suit. I didn't want to ruin my irreplaceable body parts either. I quieted the devil on my shoulder and contained my urge for acceleration.
I pulled into the parking lot of the Seven Seas a few minutes later, took off my gloves and helmet, and strapped them to the bike.
My leg swung over the seat, and I straightened my suit and fixed my hair. Throngs of people entered the lobby in anticipation of the evening's events. News vans were parked out front, and reporters did stand and delivers in front of the hotel's marquee.
I strolled into the lobby, making my way toward the ballroom. A fountain trickled in the lobby, and the hotel bar was packed. This was the big night—10 semifinalists would be selected after the interview portion of the pageant.
I couldn't help but feel a little nervous for Denise. I know she said she didn't really care one way or the other, but I think it meant more to her than she let on. I found her backstage in the dressing area. There was an air of excitement, and the usual chaos of girls primping before the big event. Makeup artists and production assistants scurried about. The girls were in various stages of undress. Nobody thought twice about stripping down to their birthday suits. There were so many people in and out, and much like a fashion show, all modesty disappeared backstage.
"Where's Jack?" Denise asked.
"Sleeping off a few pitchers of daiquiris."
Denise frowned. "He's gonna miss it?"
"I'll call and see if I can wake him up."
"No. It's not that big of a deal." She was clearly disappointed.
I felt bad for not waking Jack. "Are you ready for tonight?"
"Yeah," she said with a degree of uncertainty.
"You'll be fabulous. I know it," I assured.
She forced a nervous smile. "I hope so!"
"You've got all these girls beat by a long shot."
She rolled her eyes. "I doubt that. But, thank you for the encouragement. Oh, by the way, I found out some interesting news about our Dr. Fantastic."
She glanced around, looking to see if anyone was paying attention, or if the doctor was in the immediate vicinity.
"And?"
"Not now. Let's talk about this after the pageant."
I wished her well again, then strolled out front and waited for the competition to begin.
19
"As you age, would you rather keep your looks, or your mind?" Jonah asked.
Brooklyn stood on the stage in a sleek, elegant black dress. She smiled wide, and her eyes sparkled.
The crowd waited with bated breath for her answer.
The stunning beauty hesitated for a moment as she contemplated the question. "So, I have the choice of staying young and hot fo
rever, or decrepit but brilliant?"
"Tough choice, isn't it?" Jonah said.
"As a physician, my mind is an integral part of my profession. I can think of nothing more painful than watching my mental acuity decline with age. For those of you out there with a loved one that suffers from dementia, you know how difficult that can be. This question hits home for me, especially since my grandfather passed due to the complications of dementia. It's not just about losing your mind. It's about losing your ability to perform basic functions like breathing and swallowing. If I had the choice, I think I would keep my mental faculties. And perhaps through science, I can discover a way to maintain my youthful appearance." Brooklyn smiled to punctuate her answer.
Jonah looked impressed.
The crowd cheered and whistled.
Willow Rose pranced across the stage with a beaming smile as Brooklyn strutted away. Willow dug her hand into a fishbowl that contained several envelopes of questions. She drew one out and handed it to Jonah. He unsealed it, then read the question aloud. "If you could have dinner with one historical figure from the past, who would it be?"
A hush fell over the audience.
Willow answered without hesitation. Her angelic face grew solemn. "While I can think of many historical figures I'd like to dine with for an evening, the one person I'd really like to see at the dinner table is my sister. We lost her a few years ago."
There were gasps of sympathy throughout the audience.
Willow’s face tensed as she tried to keep a smile. Her eyes misted. "She was killed by a drunk driver. Lily was young, and so full of life, and had the world in front of her. I would do anything to see her one more time."
Willow wiped the corners of her eyes as she teared up.
The ballroom filled with applause.
"Thank you, Willow,” Jonah said. “That was a very touching and tragic story."
Willow pulled it together, smiled and waved to the audience as she strutted away.
Denise took the stage, drew her envelope, and handed it to Jonah. She smiled as she waited to be quizzed.
"What's the one thing that would make your life complete and worth living?" Jonah asked.
"That's a great question, Jonah. We all struggle to find meaning and purpose to our lives. To me, life is a gift. A beautiful adventure. It is what we make it. I feel the true measure of a person's life is how you are able to help other people. To leave the world a better place than you found it. There is so much pain and suffering in the world, and if I can do a small part to make someone's life better, then I feel like my life will have had meaning. As a deputy sheriff, I get to do that by helping keep our community safe and bringing criminals to justice."
Applause from the crowd filled the ballroom.
Denise smiled and strutted off the stage as Taylor Lexington entered. She drew her question, and Jonah peeled open the envelope.
"If you were to be crowned Miss Coconut Key, what would you do with the platform the title affords you?"
Taylor smiled. "I plan to use the title to serve as a role model for young girls, empowering them to make positive life choices and lead healthy lifestyles, free of drugs. We've seen the devastating effects of drug abuse firsthand. As a kinesiology major, I truly believe the body is the temple, and we must be very careful about the things we put into our bodies. Proper diet and exercise are essential for a healthy and full life."
"Thank you, Miss Lexington," Jonah said.
Taylor smiled and left the stage to another round of applause.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled out the device and looked at the text message from Jack. [Why didn't you wake me up?]
[I thought you needed your beauty rest?]
[I'm already beautiful. Where are you?]
[At the hotel.]
[Be there in a minute.]
[I'm standing in the back.]
[Roger that.]
I watched several more contestants answer difficult questions. There were a few bobbled answers, and some complete and total brain freezes. It was painful to watch.
Jack staggered into the ballroom and found me. He looked like he was hurting—red eyes, droopy face.
"How are you feeling?" I asked.
"Never better."
I shook my head.
"The girl makes a mean daiquiri."
We watched more of the competition.
"Did Denise already go on?" JD asked.
I nodded. "How did she do?"
"I think she's got a shot, but then again, I'm biased."
As the last contestant finished answering her question, the arena erupted with applause. Jonah took center stage and flashed a bright smile. "Give it up for our contestants!"
The applause grew even louder.
"As you can see, we have some amazing ladies here in Coconut Key, and I can't wait to see the judges' selections and find out who will proceed to the semifinals. The judges are tallying their scores now, and we will pick our semifinalists momentarily. We’ll be right back after a word from our sponsor." Jonah smiled.
The live stream cut to an advertisement for Coconut Cream Sunscreen. It played on the LED panels at the back of the stage and was broadcast over the Internet. The commercial contained video clips that Jack and I had shot for the brand. His little camera was capable of shooting 4K video, and we had a damn good time at Angelfish Island filming these beauties frolicking in the surf.
All 33 contestants took the stage, standing in a row that spanned the length of the platform. They held hands and waited with nervous smiles.
The commercial ended, and Jessica strutted across the stage and joined Jonah. In an envelope, she held the list of semifinalists. Jessica took the microphone from Jonah and unsealed the envelope. "Are you ready to find out who the semifinalists will be?"
The crowd roared.
"Or should we wait a little longer?" Jessica teased.
The crowd demanded the results now.
Jessica smiled. "The 10 semifinalists of the Miss Coconut Key pageant are, in no specific order, Tara Whittington!"
Cheers and whistles filled the air.
"Amanda Salazar!"
Hoots and hollers.
"Brittany Harrington!"
Jessica continued down the list, rattling off several more names that were met with an equal amount of enthusiasm.
"Willow Rose!" Jessica shouted.
It was not a shocker that Willow made it to the semifinals. I figured her for a shoo-in from day one.
"Taylor Lexington!"
She received the largest amount of applause of any contestant.
There were two spots left, and I had to admit I was getting a little nervous.
"Brooklyn Chase!" Jessica shouted.
Brooklyn stepped forward to take her place with the other semifinalists.
I kept my fingers crossed, hoping for Denise.
Jessica prolonged the last moment. "And the final semifinalist is…"
20
Jessica announced the last semifinalist. "Delilah—"
My heart sank, and my stomach twisted a little. Denise said she didn't really care whether she made the semifinals or not, but I had a sneaking suspicion that she would be a little let down at the news.
Then, suddenly, something changed.
"I'm sorry, Denise Elliott!" Jessica said, correcting herself.
The ballroom erupted with applause.
A wide smile tugged at Denise's lips as she stepped forward to take her place among the nine other semifinalists.
I clapped and whistled.
JD hollered.
It was a classic pageant moment with tears of joy streaming down the contestants' faces. The final event was tomorrow night, but tonight these 10 lovely ladies were winners.
JD and I went backstage to congratulate Denise. She gave us both a big hug and said to JD, "You made it!"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he said. "Dingleberry here didn't wake me up."
I frowned at Jack.
&nb
sp; "I'm so glad you both are here," Denise said. "It means so much to me. I never thought I would have made it this far."
"We had faith in you the whole time," JD said.
Denise beamed. "I'll get changed and meet you guys in the bar. I think it's time for a celebratory cocktail. First round is on me!" Then she added, "That is if you think you can handle it, JD."
"I can handle anything," JD said. "A little hair of the dog is just what the doctor ordered!”
The hotel bar was packed as usual. We found a table and waited for Denise to change into something more casual. When she arrived, we ordered a celebratory round of drinks and toasted.
"To the most beautiful woman in Coconut Key," I said.
Denise blushed, shyly. "Aw, thank you."
We clinked glasses and sipped fine whiskey.
"Careful now," JD said. "Her head is going to get so big, she'll be too good to hang around us anymore."
Denise frowned at JD. "You know that's not true!"
"What did you find out about Dr. Fantastic?" I asked.
"You're not going to believe this," Denise said. “A woman died during an operation at his surgery center!"
Our eyes widened.
"There was an investigation, but no charges were ever filed. And get this… He's not even board-certified!"
"How can he continue to practice?" I asked.
"As long as he's licensed, he can perform surgery," Denise said. "Word to the wise, choose your surgeon well."
"That's crazy," I said.
"And that's not all,” Denise continued. "The surgery center is owned by a convicted felon."
My jaw dropped. "What?"
"Yup," Denise said. "There were attempts to change the law a few years ago to bar convicted felons from owning medical clinics, but it didn't pass. As far as I can tell, the clinic is operating within the letter of the law."
"I think we're going to pay Dr. Fantastic a visit tomorrow," I said.
Brooklyn Chase weaved through the crowd and passed by the table.
"Congratulations," I said.
Brooklyn smiled. "Thank you. Congrats to you, Denise," she said, looking across the table.
"You too," Denise said. "Care to join us?"
"I don't want to impose," Brooklyn said with eager eyes.
