Page 62 of Sunset Beach
“And I’ll have a plain burger and a Fresca,” Vera said.
“You girls want fries or no?”
“Yes,” Vera said.
“No thanks,” Colleen said.
The server brought their soft drinks, and the two women sat back and looked around. The walls of the bar were covered with dozens of stuffed and mounted game fish, predominantly tarpon, and old autographed black-and-white photos of baseball players, mostly St. Louis Cardinals, who frequented the bar during spring training games at nearby Al Lang Field.
“Any plans for the weekend?” Colleen asked. She’d spotted the two men at the end of the bar, but was trying not to glance their way.
“Nothing special,” Vera reported. “My sister talked me into babysitting for her two brats. What about you?”
Colleen rolled her eyes. “Dinner party at the in-laws’. It’s Rosemary’s birthday. Not my idea of fun.”
“What have you got against Allen’s family?”
“Theyhateme,” Colleen said. “Everybody thinks Dr. Hicks is so great, you know, because he’s this beloved doctor, big in Rotary and at the yachtclub, but believe me, he is such a phony.” She lowered her voice. “It’s an open secret at Bayfront that he’s screwed half the nurses working there.”
“You’re kidding!” Vera said breathlessly.
“It’s the truth. Of course, I guess you can’t blame him, because most of the time Rosemary is zonked out of her gourd.”
“She drinks?”
Colleen looked around, then lowered her voice. “She likes vodka, because she thinks you can’t smell it on her breath. And diet pills even though she’s a size four. One guess where she gets the pills.”
The server set their plates on the table. “Here you go.”
“Thanks so much,” Colleen said, flashing her brilliant smile. She picked up her knife and cut the cheeseburger into quarters.
Vera watched, then did the same. “I get why you don’t like them, but what do his parents have against you?”
“Where do I start?” Colleen asked. “They don’t approve of the fact that I bleach my hair. They think I dress trashy. They don’t like me working as a dental hygienist. But mostly they hate the fact that I’m not the girl they had all picked out for their baby boy Allen.”
“Really?” Vera dabbed a french fry in the puddle of ketchup on her plate. “Did they actually have somebody else in mind?”
“Oh yes,” Colleen said. “Morton’s partner’s oldest daughter, Suzanne. Miss Perfect. Miss Debutante. Miss Sun Goddess beauty queen.”
“And then you had to show up and make Allen fall in love with you, and spoil everything,” Vera said, giggling.
“Yeah. Something like that.” Colleen stood up and slung her shoulder bag strap over her arm. “I’ve gotta find the bathroom. Be right back.”
She walked slowly toward the back of the room, as though she had no idea where the ladies’ room was, although, of course, she’d used it when she’d been here three months ago. And she’d used it four more times, each time she’d come back to Mastry’s.
He was watching her. His partner was watching too. They’d turned halfway around on the bar stools, waiting for her to pass by.
Should she speak, or wait to see if he would?
His partner, the shorter, older one, reached out, brushing her arm with his fingertips.
“Look here, Officer Campbell,” he said. “Isn’t this our damsel in distress from the Dreamland?”
“I believe you’re right,” Brice said, a slow smile spreading across his face.
She stopped, blushed, looked away. “Oh hi.”
“Everything okay at home now?” the partner asked, his eyes stern.
