Marcia King-Gamble - Down And Out In Flamingo Beach

“I don’t keep track of her comings and goings,” LaTisha answered sulkily. She accepted the quilts Joya handed her and stomped off.

Joya was suddenly conscious of the man hovering at the front entrance. His energy was electric. It reached out and zapped her. Derek Morse stood at the doorway taking in the scene, aviator glasses still shading his eyes.

“Was there something you wanted?” Joya asked.

LaTisha did an amazing turn about when she spotted Derek. With a smile a mile wide, and rolling her hips she headed his way.

“Can I help you find something?”

Derek smiled vaguely at LaTisha as he entered the store. “Do you have a minute to talk?” He asked Joya, dipping his head at the saleswoman who looked as if she might hand him her panties any minute. “Privately.”

Joya led him into the back room where the quilt guild met. She closed the door so LaTisha would not overhear them.

“Have a seat,” she said, waving Derek toward one of the straight-back chairs that suddenly seemed ridiculously small. “What is it you want to talk to me about?”

Derek removed his sunglasses and set them down on the table. He sat, legs apart, blue jeans molding themselves over a bulge that Joya had no business gaping at. She suddenly wished for air-conditioning, something a heck of a lot cooler than the ocean breeze that floated through the open windows.

“I’d like you to speak with your grandmother,” Derek said.

“About what?”

“Renovating the store. My crew’s working on the florist’s shop and the wine and cheese place to the right. This is the center store. If everyone surrounding her has a restored facade and updated interiors, Joya’s is really going to look dated and worn.”

While Joya didn’t care for how he put it, he made a good point.

“My grandmother’s a very stubborn woman,” she said. “Part of the problem is she doesn’t like owing anyone for anything.”

“My great-grandmother is much the same. These ladies come from a different time. They didn’t grow up with credit cards or equity lines they could dip into. I’m saying this because I don’t want to see her lose out, especially when the bank is practically giving money away. Improving the store will increase the property value, and a refurbished exterior and interior will bring in a spending crowd.”

Regardless of whether he was sincere, or simply out to feather his own nest, Derek made sense. And he didn’t sound like any construction worker she knew. Not that Joya knew many. He’d presented his case in a well-thought-out and articulate manner. What he said was worth considering.

“I’ll talk to Granny J after she gets out of the hospital,” Joya agreed. “And we’ll get back to you.”

Derek rose, towering above her. He smelled clean, like soap, surprising because ripping out drywall, hauling debris and pounding nails usually made you sweat.

The phone rang, and Joya was glad to escape to get it. Something about being this close to Derek made her feel flushed and scatterbrained. She felt as if she’d been running a mile and couldn’t catch her breath.

He waved at her and said over his shoulder, “Let me know what you and your granny decide.”

Joya picked up the receiver of the old-fashioned phone.

“Hello.”

“You left a message.”

“Who is this?”

“Deborah.”

The other saleswoman.

“Shouldn’t you be here?” Joya asked.

“I don’t feel well.”

“And you’re calling at this hour?”

There was a pause on the other end, then, “I’ll be in tomorrow, if I feel better. It’s payday and you owe me for the two weeks before.”

Joya hung up, wondering how long these two had been getting away with murder. She couldn’t imagine why Granny J would keep two losers like these on her payroll.

And then she remembered the woman’s words. Granny J owed her for the two weeks before.

Perhaps it was time to take a closer look at her grandmother’s books.

“Too bad all of our jobs aren’t like the one on Flamingo Row,” Preston Shore, Derek’s boss, said, clinking his bottle of beer against Derek’s.

Derek took a slug of his own drink then said, “It’s nice to be doing something different, preserving rather than destroying.”

“I was talking about the fringe benefits. That Joya Hamill sure is eye candy. Just looking at her makes me horny.”

Derek grunted something unintelligible and stuck his fingers in the bowl of peanuts on the bar. He tossed a handful in his mouth and chewed slowly and thoughtfully. Joya was attractive all right but definitely full of herself. The way she’d looked down her nose at him when he’d spoken to her in the store earlier. And he hadn’t imagined it, either. He knew that look. He’d once had a woman just like her at home.

It was always, “gimme, gimme, gimme.” That kind of demanding, self-focused woman could drain the life out of you. And he’d given until he’d had nothing more to give and then she’d walked away. Women!

“Okay, she’s hot but obviously high-maintenance,” Derek responded when Preston nudged him with his elbow. “She’s also not at all what I’m looking for.”

“What are you looking for?” Preston asked.

“I’ll know her when I meet her.”

Friendship aside, Preston had agreed to take Derek on as a worker, warning him up front that he’d better hold his own. Preston’s big concern was that a trained engineer would not want to get down and dirty with the boys.

Derek had been forced to prove himself over and over. He now had the nicks, cuts, aches and pains that went with the construction business to show for it.

But he was happy. After years of corporate down-sizing and sophisticated backstabbing, he was free of meetings and kowtowing to anyone. Now he showed up when he was supposed to, put in a full day’s work and went home tired but content.

After the last restructuring at the aircraft-manufacturing company where he’d been a manager, he’d decided the stress just wasn’t worth it. He’d left, taking his bonus and stock options with him. Derek’s sights were now on owning his own construction business, and he’d decided he’d do what he needed to do to learn the job from the bottom up.

Preston was still waiting, regarding him carefully, an eyebrow hiked. “And Joya Hamill doesn’t fit the bill of what you’re looking for?”

Derek shook his head. He really didn’t want to talk about women. He was over talking about women. But Preston was expecting an answer.

“Look, I don’t want anything too hot or heavy right now. My energies need to be focused on learning all you can teach me about running a profitable construction firm.”

Preston’s index finger stabbed the air. “Gotcha! But you still gotta make time for fun. If I wasn’t already involved, I’d be hooking up with Joya Hamill, that’s for sure.”

Derek couldn’t help smiling. “Guess I’ve never been interested in trouble.”

“Something about trouble can be appealing. Any of those babes worth a second glance?”

Derek surveyed the packed Haul Out where an after-work crowd was winding down. The patrons were primarily a blue- and pink-collar group, the men still in uniforms, name tags on their chest. Some played pool or darts off to the side while women with pumped-up boobs and gold ankle bracelets sat on high banquettes yakking up a storm and checking out would-be prospects.

“No babes,” Derek said firmly. “Not until I get my own business up and running.”

“Whatever.”

They returned to their beers, and Derek indulged in a brief fantasy about a woman at the end of the bar with legs that wouldn’t stop. Unfortunately the Hamill woman kept popping into his head, screwing up his sexy little daydreams.