Back in the veal-fattening pen that Terry used as an office there was another flower, this time a yellow rose bud that I thought came from the small well-tended garden at the front of the club. I was still staring at it, trying to tell myself to stay calm and not let the creeping sense of dread have its wicked way with me, when Julian came in and started ranting.
“Where have you been?” He didn’t wait for an answer.
“Terrence had a meeting with Corrie Finnigan and her mother about the beverages for the wedding. I had to cover for you.”
I was guessing, from the irate tone of his voice, that my charms had paled for him. A dangerous boyfriend had done the trick of getting him to back off and now that he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with me, he wasn’t going to waste any charisma.
I picked up the rose and dropped it in the wastebasket. “It’s the first I heard about any meeting.”
“I’m sure it was in Terrence’s Day-timer. If you are going to work out in this position you must pay more attention to details. This is an excellent opportunity for you. Don’t waste it.”
“I’m a little new here.” I shifted papers around on the desk, hunting more for self-control than information. “Bear with me.”
With a weighty disgusted groan, he said, “You Southerners just have no concept of a work ethic.”
Bingo! He’d just pushed the one button guaranteed to send me into orbit but I struggled for whole seconds between chewing my tongue and letting go my well-honed gutter talk. The gutter won. Effing-Bliss backed out the door, his face the color of boiled lobster as I stood up and leaned over the desk towards him describing in vivid detail where he could stick his job and what I hoped it would do to him.
By twelve o’clock I had Chris started at the downstairs bar. “I’m going upstairs to meet a couple about a party we are catering next weekend,” I told him. “Call me if you need anything.” “Don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control.” The disgusting part was it was true. The slimy little slug knew his way around a bar.
After the meeting I popped into the kitchen where they were having a crisis all their own. Seems the prep chef hadn’t shown up.
This was great news for me. Miguel had done all he could at the Sunset and was out of work. “I know the perfect guy, worked with him at the Sunset.” I was already dialing. Given enough time, I’d have all of my friends around me.
At two Bernice called. She started right in without saying hello. “How can you embarrass us like this?”
“Like what?” For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what I’d done to set her off this time. Of course I’d been wearing my Sid Vicious tee-shirt and my red high-tops when I ran into Dr. Travis at the hospital. That outfit would be enough to set Bernice off for a week but my bet was Dr. Travis had heard about my inappropriate clothing choices too many times to launch that particular rocket.
“Wasn’t it bad enough that you worked at the Sunset without rubbing our noses in it by going to the Bath and Tennis Club?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“All our friends go there!” Her voice spiraled several decibels above human speech and just below the level only dogs could hear. “We can never show our faces there again.”
Oh, joy! My time at the B&T wasn’t misspent after all. “I thought anything about me would be old news. Why would anyone be interested? Besides, I have to make a living.”
“Oh, please! You’re living off Clay Adams or has he come to his senses and thrown you out?”
I slammed down the receiver, my breath coming in gasps. I wanted to kill someone, no, not someone, I wanted to kill Bernice.
I charged out into the hall as the glass door to the manicure room flew open. Tanya ran out with her hand pressed to her left cheek. She didn’t see me as she ran by, tears streaming down her face. Deanna followed her. Perfectly turned out, Deanna was unruffled, her face bland. Without acknowledging my presence, she coolly glided down the hall to the massage room.
Sweet. Everyone was having a perfect day here in paradise.
I was back in Terry’s office calling suppliers when Julian’s bulk filled the door. Booze oozed out of his pores, leaving an oily dampness on his skin, and I could smell his alcoholic ripeness even from behind the desk. His liquid lunch shone in the brightness of his eyes while his face still had the bright red sheen it had when I saw him last, only now it wasn’t from rage.
“We must speak, Ms. Travis,” he said. And speak he did. I sat and listened. It wasn’t his words that held me enthralled, it was the fact that after his first sentence, his accent slipped and then disappeared. Posh English became pure Brooklyn. I’d give odds this guy had never been out of the States. Old Peculiar indeed.
After he tore a strip off me for my crude response to his earlier visit he launched into the story of his life, the people he knew, the places he’d been, just to show me he was a man deserving of respect. His life sounded like the plot of one of those old black-and-white movies AMC plays at three in the morning. Actually, I was betting that’s where he came up with it.
“Why did you leave England?” I asked when it seemed apparent from the pregnant silence he expected something out of me.
“I didn’t like the weather.” Which was a strange thing for a guy to say who never went outside, avoided it at all costs.
I made a wild guess. “Of course you were friends with Bunny Lehre in New York. That’s why you came down here.”
He looked confused. He licked his fat lips and his brow wrinkled in concentration as he tried to remember if we had discussed this before.
“We weren’t exactly friends,” he said and his frown deepened. He lifted a fat index finger, searching for clarity as it waggled in front of his face. “I managed a private golf club out on Long Island, that’s where we met, but we weren’t friends.” He gave me an oily smile, pleased with himself for making the distinction.
“But she got you your job here.”
“No. She did tell me about this club, told me they were looking for a new manager, but we weren’t friends.” He smiled, ever so pleased that he’d passed the test.
It wasn’t really that unusual. Lots of jobs in the service industry are found through contacts. That’s why I was at the B&T, the same with Chris. It’s what keeps the industry functioning, but maybe there were a little too many connections here. At least one too many.
“Did Bunny Lehre have a drug habit?”
His red sweating face lost some of its color. Some fragment of caution told him he had slipped onto dangerous ground and an effort of will brought him temporary sobriety. “Really, Ms. Travis, you ask a lot of questions.” He tugged down the sleeves of his jacket. “I’m glad we’ve had this little talk. Cleared the air, as it were.” He straightened the front of his jacket and smoothed it over his belly. “I always think it’s best to clear the air. I’m sure you’ll manage quite well until Terrence gets back.” He gave me a dignified little bow. “If you have any questions I’m always here.”
Yeah, well that was the downside of the B&T.
I followed Effing-Bliss out to check on Chris. He was rushed off his feet but coping fine, just taking a tray of refreshments in for the book club meeting in the library. Ethan came in from the pool with an order so I started filling it and asked him, “Did you know Gina Ross?” His eyes got wary. “Nope.”
“I thought since she was a friend of Bunny Lehre’s you might have met Gina at Bunny’s.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head in denial. “The only person I ever met out there was Isaak.”