Crazy in Paradise Page 9

  It surprised me when Jimmy Spoon walked into Whit’s office. “Hello, Mr. Spoon.”

  He cleaned up well. He wore tan linen slacks, a short-sleeved silk shirt, and Gucci loafers. His hair was tied back, there was not one speck of dirt or grease on him and I’d swear he’d had a manicure.

  “Call me Spoon. Still with Zach?” he whispered in my ear.

  “I see the two of you have met,” Whit commented. “Jimmy’s one hell of a mechanic. He found a part for my Jaguar even the dealer couldn’t get.”

  So Whit calls him Jimmy. “Nice to see you again, Spoon,” I said.

  Chapter 14

  I drove down the Overseas Highway thinking about the transformation of Jimmy Spoon, who’d gone from looking like a hard-core criminal to a solid citizen, despite the fierce tattoos. No wonder women were attracted to him.

  The news of my relationship with Zach had obviously traveled all over town. I wanted it to be true. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to find out it started as a made-up story. In a small town, a story-lie would haunt me forever.

  I drove reluctantly towards home; the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon with Dario made me queasy. He didn’t inspire confidence, and I had a suspicion he’d make things worse if he could. I wanted to ask him a few questions, to find out what was actually going on. I should mind my own business and go for a swim.

  Everything appeared quiet. In fact, too quiet. I hoped for an uneventful evening with Dario.

  As I walked into the house, a door closed upstairs. Jazz meowed from the living room. “Where’s Dario, Jazz?”

  “I’m right here,” he grumbled from the top of the stairs. “I feel sick. I’m going to bed and watch a little TV.” He disappeared into the guest bedroom.

  “Hope you feel better,” I called, trying not jump up and down. Now my evening would be Dario-free.

  * * *

  I opened my eyes, Jazz and I had fallen asleep on the couch watching television. Dario was in the kitchen, banging around, and making way too much noise for so early in the morning. I noticed his backpack lying on the floor in the entryway.

  He came into the living room, holding a cup of coffee in his hand and wearing the same clothes from the day before. The big question: was he coming or going? I had a bad feeling.

  “You must be feeling better. Are you going somewhere?” What now? My gut told me he’d been out wandering around all night.

  “I’ve had enough. I’m not staying,” he whined. “I’m not sitting here for days, doing nothing.”

  “You promised Zach.” Just perfect. I get to start the day with this stupid drama.

  “Zach needs to be reminded I’m all grown up. I admit to a couple of mistakes, but I can take care of myself.”

  He’s so full of himself. The little punk is out of his mind. “Call Zach and let him know you’re leaving.”

  “Later.”

  “Where are you going? How will Zach get a hold of you?” How was I going to explain to Zach that Dario had up and left?

  “I’m out of here.” He picked up his backpack, and then dropped it on the floor again. “Forgot something,” he mumbled, and raced up the stairs.

  What was I supposed to do now? No one would be able to get here in time to stop him. Getting the Lazarro brothers to stay in one place was impossible.

  Dario came back down the stairs with his laptop. “Don’t worry so much. This will work out.”

  “Please call Zach,” I begged. Little brat. “Can’t you stay another day or two at most?”

  “I’ll catch up with him later,” he shot back as he headed for the door.

  I picked up a vase sitting on the counter and hit him over the head. He dropped to the floor like a sack.

  I stooped to check to see if he was breathing. “Thank you, he’s not dead,” I said to myself and the universe, then went in search for my phone, no longer annoyed that everyone’s numbers had been stored. Fab would know what to do.

  “Fab, its Madison,” I said, when I heard her voice. “I hit Dario over the head.”

  She laughed. “Is he alive?”

  “He’s breathing. He was on his way out the door and I didn’t think about what I was doing, I hit him over the head with a vase. I didn’t know what else to do.” I was almost yelling.

  “Breathe,” she said. “Calm down. I had a feeling he’d start causing problems, but I figured we had a couple of days. Keep him there until I can come take him off your hands.”

  “What if he wakes up?” I asked. “I can’t continue to hit him over the head.”

  “Listen to me. Go out in the garage. Elizabeth has a cool work area. Open the tall cabinet by the window and find some rope or zip ties. She kept everything pretty organized.”

  “When did you go in the garage?” I asked as I made my way out the door and to the garage.

  “The other day when I stopped by.”

  “I didn’t even notice.” I’m not sure what I thought about the fact that Fab knew more about what was in my garage than I did.

  “Another one of my talents.”

  “OK. I’m here, standing in front of the cabinet.” I opened the doors and started pushing things around on the shelves. “I found some zip ties. Now what?”

  “Wrap a tie around each wrist. Pull his arms behind his back. Take another tie and hook the two together. Do the same with his ankles. He won’t be going anywhere. I’m on my way.”

  I raced into the kitchen. Dario was groaning. I grabbed his hands, securing each one, and then I worked on his feet. He made noises the whole time but didn’t move.

  I’d totally lost my mind. Wait until he wakes up and realizes I’d cold-cocked him and then tied him up.

  Dario began wiggling, trying to move his arms. I knew he was coming around. He banged into the bar stool, and it fell over on him. “What happened?” he moaned.

  “You weren’t supposed to leave,” I said, trying to sound calm.

  He rolled back and forth on the floor. “What the hell did you do to me?”

  “I couldn’t let you walk out the door,” I reminded him. “All you had to do was call Zach, and you refused.”

  “You bitch,” he said.

  “That is the second time you’ve called me a bitch, and I’m tired of it.” I kicked him hard in the ass.

  “Oww. What are you doing?”

  “Call me that word one more time and I’ll kick the crap out of you. Now be quiet.”

  “You psycho!” he yelled.

  “Quiet!” I yelled back.

  * * *

  Finally Fab came walking in, followed by one of the biggest guys I had ever seen.

  “This is Slice,” she said.

  Slice nodded in my direction and stayed silent. He stood well over six feet tall, a two hundred fifty pound solid wall of muscle. His long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and a nasty scar ran from his forehead to his collarbone and disappeared inside his shirt. He stood against the counter, his massive arms crossed in front of him, with a ‘Do Not Fuck With Me’ look on his face.

  “Where’s Dario?” Fab asked. “We’re going to take him with us.”

  “Tied up on the kitchen floor.” I pointed behind the island area.

  “This isn’t the first time he’s gotten into big trouble. Zach comes to his rescue every time. We can’t have him running around town making things worse.”

  “Hey, I’m right here. Get these ties off me!” Dario yelled.

  Slice smiled. “I’ll help him.”

  Slice’s smile made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “Roll over, Dario.” Slice jerked him up and slammed him onto the barstool. Dario toppled sideways, landing on the floor, the barstool falling on top of him again.

  He tried to pull away. “Take your hands off me, you ugly bastard.”

  A knife suddenly appeared in Slice’s hand. He used it to remove the ties around Dario’s ankles.

  “Nice work,” I whispered to Fab.

  “Dario,
I’m going to make you wish you’d kept your promise.” Fab grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to face her. “I have a special babysitter in mind for you,” she said as she yanked him to his feet. “I’ll tell you this once and, trust me, you’ll do exactly as you are told.” Fab’s voice was ice cold, and I now believed Zach and Axe when they said Fab could take care of herself.

  “Another crazy bitch,” Dario spit at Fab. “I thought my brother dumped your ass a long time ago.”

  With lightning speed, Fab kicked his legs out from underneath him, and Dario hit the floor again.

  Slice picked him straight up in the air and shook him until I thought his teeth would fall out. “Keep your mouth shut, you little bastard, or I’ll shut it for you.” Fab turned to me. “Don’t worry about this. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  “Nice meeting you, Madison Westin,” Slice said.

  Slice dragged Dario out the front door, with Fab following behind. I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, relieved Dario was headed elsewhere.

  Chapter 15

  I glanced at the display screen and answered the phone. “Hi, Mother, what are you up to?”

  “I’m driving down to The Cove, and I want the two of us to go out to dinner. Let’s meet at The Crab Shack around 6:00. Dress up a little.”

  “Are you okay?” She sounded excited about something, not her usual self. “Stop by, and we’ll drive over together.” I suggested.

  “No, I need to make a few stops along the way, so I’ll meet you there. Wear a dress, and wear some of your cute jewelry. I’ll see you later.”

  Mother seemed to be acting weirder than usual. She was clearly up to something. But good food and company were what I needed. I’d been obsessing over Zach, and I was exhausted. My eyes turned to the French doors several times a day waiting for Zach, Axe, or Fab to appear in my living room.

  I walked into the restaurant right on time, wearing, as instructed, a red strapless sundress, dressed up with a fun necklace, gold bracelets and earrings. Tired of the never-ending fight with my hair, I pulled it up off my neck, and put in my usual clip.

  Mother sat at a table overlooking the water. She looked fabulous in a classic black and white dress with red leather pumps. When she made plans to go out, she effortlessly made the right clothing choices, while I stressed continually over my decisions. “Jack, straight up,” she told the server.

  “I’ll have a glass of white wine.” I looked at Mother. “What brings you to The Cove? Besides, dinner with me.” I suspected another agenda.

  “You, actually. I haven’t heard from you very much.”

  “I’m sorry.” Now I felt guilty that I’d been suspicious. “Are you feeling neglected?”

  “Even Brad says the two of you have only talked once. What’s keeping you so busy? Zach?”

  Oh brother. “Did Brad happen to mention he’s never home? He and his crew are always out fishing; making the most of grouper season I presume. Tucker and I finally had a meeting.”

  “Anything new with Zach?” Mother asked, seemingly oblivious to my attempt to change the subject.

  “Mother, we had one date, and we had a lot of fun.” I wondered if I should mention the night of hot sex, and almost laughed at what her reaction would be.

  “Are you going out again?”

  “I hope so. Can we please change the subject?”

  “I planned a surprise for you,” she said with a slight smile.

  I knew it. Here was the gotcha moment. The phone conversation had been unusual, not like her at all. “What are you up to?”

  As she was about to answer, a man approached our table.

  “Madeline,” he said, and bent down to kiss her cheek.

  He was in his thirties, with a medium build, brown hair, Dockers pants, and a golf shirt. He had a look that broadcast ‘uptight’ and that he’d never done anything wrong in his life. I had an uneasy suspicion the two of them were up to something, but what?

  “Connor, I’m so glad you were able to come,” Mother said, giving him a big smile and kissing him back.

  “Oh Madeline, of course I came. I was looking forward to tonight.”

  I sat there, listening, my lips turned up in an attempt at a smile. I knew it made me appear like a crazy person.

  “This is my daughter, Madison. Madison, Connor Manning.” She waved her hand at an empty chair. “Please sit down.”

  My mother wouldn’t do this to me, fix me up without telling me.

  “Nice to meet you, Madison,” he said, extending his hand.

  “I told Connor all about you, honey,” Mother smiled.

  “Funny,” I said, “I never heard of you Connor.”

  Mother kicked me under the table.

  “Oww.” They both stared at me. “I hit my foot.” Mother gave me a ‘you better behave’ look that was all too familiar.

  “I met Connor at a party my neighbor Jean threw, and when I realized that the two of you had interests in common, I decided to get you two together. This beautiful restaurant is a good place for a first date, don’t you think?”

  I was so shocked that I didn’t trust myself to speak. My face turned bright red, and I stared at my mother. What the hell was she talking about?

  “Your mother told me you were having a hard time meeting acceptable people. She thought you needed a little push to get out into the world again. Don’t get me wrong, I understand the divorce wasn’t your fault.”

  “A date? Now?” This was one of those moments, when anything I said would sound rude.

  My mother stood up. “Honey, I’m going to leave. You and Connor enjoy your evening. Call me in the morning.” She leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Don’t embarrass me,” she whispered in my ear and beat a hasty retreat to the door. I wanted to chase after her, and wring her neck.

  “Well, this is awkward,” I said, smiling with fake sincerity. My mother had forced me into a date with a stranger.

  “I had no idea our date would be a complete surprise to you,” Connor said, looking me over intently. “Mothers always know best, don’t you agree? I insist we have a good time.”

  “So you met my mother at a party at Jean Stewart’s?” I would have thought her social set was a little old for him.

  “I’m an architect.” He made some sort of sound I assumed was laughter. “I designed Jean’s new house that is being built out on Fisher Island.”

  “Sounds interesting.” I wondered what my mother had told him. “You’ll have to tell me about yourself.” My plan was to keep him talking, eat quickly, and get out of here.

  The waitress came to take our orders and asked if we wanted more drinks.

  “No thank you, we’ve had enough,” Connor spoke up, then turned to me. “I don’t believe in drinking. I make an exception when I’m out to dinner, and limit myself to one. I don’t keep alcohol at home.”

  It irritated me he didn’t ask me what I wanted, and made my decision for me. “How do you feel about smoking?”

  “You don’t smoke, do you? That’s another nasty habit.”

  “My mother does,” I baited.

  “Your mother and I had a long talk about her smoking. On my advice, she got the patch. It’s helped her to stop,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

  If I’d had liquid in my mouth I’d have spit it all over the table. No wonder my mother practically ran out of the restaurant. She needed a cigar. Give up smoking? She might hoodwink this pompous ass, but not me.

  “So you’re an architect. Do you live and work in the Miami area?” I held onto my wrist so I wouldn’t be tempted to check the time.

  “I live in Coral Gables, not far from your mother. But I also own some undeveloped waterfront property here in The Cove.”

  “Are you designing a house for yourself?”

  “No, I’m planning a condominium and shopping mall complex.”

  “A shopping mall? Condos? In Tarpon Cove?” I was horrified. “Your plans would change the community forever. We’d los
e our small beach town charm.”

  “Every parcel of land should be built to meet a highest and best use standard,” he pointed out. “I think Tarpon Cove is ripe for updating.” He talked like a true outsider, with revenue being his only interest.

  “When are you starting this project?” “I still need to acquire a couple more parcels of land, but final plans are at the city planning commission, awaiting approval. The project has some stumbling blocks, but no one can stop progress forever.”

  What an ass, I thought. His ambitious idea would strip all the character from The Cove, and create another beach town full of second homes. I hoped the commission would never approve the plans. “I’m very surprised.”

  “This is all about the best use of my investment dollar,” Connor smiled smugly as the waitress brought our food.

  “I should’ve ordered for you,” he said, staring at my plate. “The shrimp is so high in cholesterol. Wasn’t there a brown rice substitution? An order of double vegetables would have been a healthier choice.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” I wanted to tell him that the double vegetables would ruin my order of cholesterol. “I eat what I want when I go out to dinner.”

  “You’re in pretty good shape.” He didn’t sound as if he believed what he said. “I hoped that wouldn’t be an exaggeration on your mother’s part. I work out every day. A person who lets themself go lacks discipline. You should work out with me sometime. I can get you in much better shape.”

  I don’t work out in the traditional sense, but I swim and bike, and make it a habit to steer clear of a real gym. “Next time I’m at my mother’s, the three of us should work out together. She loves to exercise,” I said, knowing how she hated exercise. As much as I would love to get back at her, by insisting she go to the gym, a second anything with this idiot would never happen.

  “In fact, I think bad habits, in general, are just a lack of discipline,” he went on.

  “What are you talking about?” This conversation was exhausting.

  “I set strict standards for myself and I would expect my girlfriend to do the same.”