One Tequila Page 4

  “Current dive sounds great. You know I love the south wall.”

  “You'll want to take more wide-angle pictures then, no macro on this one,” Trace observed and I nodded, knowing he was right. With this dive, we'd need to swim against the current for the first half of the dive before riding it back to the boat for the second half. It wouldn't leave much time or thought for up-close macro photography shots.

  I pulled my camera from the bag and checked my gear, making sure everything was set just the way I liked it so I wouldn't have to make adjustments at 110 feet.

  “You go out last night?” Trace called, directing the boat from the main canal, the houses of the rich passing slowly by us.

  “Just to Lucky's for one with Luna,” I said, pulling my t-shirt over my head and shimmying out of my shorts. I wore a fairly skimpy bikini underneath, not something that I would usually lounge on the beach with, but it was easy to slip a wetsuit over. I bent over to pull my wetsuit out of the bag and, straightening, I caught Trace's eye.

  “What?” I said.

  “Nothing, I like that suit on you,” he said, turning back to the wheel to pump the speed up a bit as we left the channel.

  He liked this suit on me? I'd worn this suit easily fifty times around him. Why the compliment now? Dying to take a peek in his brain, but my ethics preventing me from doing so, I smiled at him instead.

  “Thanks, $19.99 on sale from Target.”

  “It does nice things for your curves.”

  Again, he looked at me, holding my gaze longer than usual. I wished I could see behind his glasses to his eyes, wondering desperately what game we were playing here.

  “Well, my curves have a mind of their own,” I said lamely and bent again to hide the blush on my face as I stepped into my thin skin wetsuit and pulled it up, shimmying into the suit, knowing all of my bits were bouncing about as I pulled it up to my waist and let it hang loose. It was too hot to zip all the way into the suit until we were close to getting in the water.

  Trace and I had been friends since he first moved to the Keys about six years ago. The girls of the town had flocked to his easy-going surfer vibe and he'd won over more than one girl by offering to draw her.

  Sans clothes, naturally.

  Diving had brought us together, but a shared sense of humor and an honest look at the trials of dating in a small town had cemented our friendship. My anxiety kicked up a notch as I wondered if there would be a shift in the foundation that I took for granted in our relationship.

  “You going to tell me about your hot date or not?” Trace said easily, but my back stiffened at the hint of ice under his words.

  “Word travels fast,” I observed, unaccountably angry. Why should I be? I'd lived in Tequila Key my whole life. You couldn't so much as order something from Amazon without the whole neighborhood watching the delivery driver come down the road. A hot new investor in town? I'd be crazy to think something like that would be kept under wraps. Surely half of the rich daughters in Port Atticus were pulling out their pearls and push-up bras in order to catch Cash's eye.

  “Like that's a surprise?” Trace asked. “Buoy,” he said, pointing to the front of the boat. I was grateful for the distraction. Moving to the bow of the boat, I picked up a long pole with a hook to catch the buoy line to attach the boat to. Permanent anchors had been dropped all over the coastline for dive boats to easily hook up to, thus ensuring that the coral wouldn't be constantly damaged by anchors being dropped daily.

  I didn't know what to say to the anger in Trace's voice. We'd always been able to tell each other about our various love interests and there had never been a problem before. But for the first time in years, we were both single at the same time. I wondered if he was jealous that I had a date and he didn’t. Men had a tendency to get a little ornery when they went too long without some loving. Unlike us mature women, I thought with a mild snort and moved to check that the air in my tank was on.

  “So? Where are you going?” Trace insisted on continuing the conversation, coming to stand next to me as he turned the air on for his tank.

  “I don't know. He's picking me up at seven. Is that okay with you, boss?” I asked cheekily, slipping my arms into my dive suit and turning for him to zip up the back. I gasped as he yanked me closer than necessary and slowly zipped my wetsuit up.

  “Watch yourself, Althea,” Trace said, his voice at my ear, his breath hot on my neck. Damn if tingles of excitement didn't race down my back and skitter into my stomach in a pool of lust as he held me a second too long, pressed back against his body.

  I stepped shakily away and then turned to help him zip his suit up, my eyes tracing up the muscles of his tanned back, following the line of tattoos up his arms. Finishing quickly, I stepped back and sat on the bench, sliding my BCD on over my shoulders and snapping the belt on my waist closed. Trace mirrored my motions and we both stood awkwardly under the weight of our tanks and faced each other, running our hands over each other's regulators and weight belts, doing a final safety check before we began our dive.

  “Do you have a problem with Cash?” I blurted out as we stood at the back of the boat, ready to do a giant stride into the water.

  Trace turned and met my eyes through his mask.

  “I have no problem with him. My problem is with you going on a date with him and not me,” he said before putting a regulator in his mouth and striding into the water. My mouth dropped as panic mixed with lust punched my stomach. Trace bobbed for a moment at the surface, signaling to me that he was okay.

  “It's not like you've asked me!” I shouted at him, angry that he had sprung this on me now, angry that he thought he could suddenly step into my life and muck things up for me. I slammed my regulator into my mouth and holding my mask with one arm, my camera with the other, I launched myself into the water.

  There's nothing quite like jumping off a boat into clear blue water to see unimaginable strength and delicate beauty just waiting to be discovered beneath the surface. It is an entirely different world, one where we are the observers, invited to watch the intricate dance of nature play out before us.

  I flashed an okay sign to Trace before beginning my descent to the floor below. Bubbles scattered past my face as I floated gently down to the bottom, bumping a little extra air into my BCD to neutralize my buoyancy. Together, Trace and I met at the bottom and he motioned towards a tunnel through the coral that would lead us out over the drop-off. A shot of adrenalin, far better than a morning cup of coffee, raced through me as I followed him through the coral tunnel, pulling my regulators close to keep from getting caught on the coral, and inching my way along until we both emerged, slightly giddy, to float over the wall.

  Trace immediately motioned to me to get moving and I remembered that he had said there was a current today. We turned to face it and began to swim, moving together naturally, totally in synch with each other. I snapped some pictures as I kicked against the current, stealing glances down at the 4,000-foot drop-off that loomed below me – a deep blue abyss. There was nothing like looking straight into the depths of the ocean to put some perspective on your smallness in this universe, I thought.

  The sound of clanging on a tank caused me to shoot my head up and I looked to where Trace pointed.

  A trio of eagle rays, so perfectly fluid they looked like they were flying, moved delicately through the water in front of us. I brought my camera up and took shot after shot as my heart sang, looking at their beauty and grace. I could imagine a symphony or some glorious music playing in the background as they sliced their way through the water, so sure of their place in the ocean.

  I turned back to Trace and he brought his hands to his face, mimicking a bravo kiss. I smiled, knowing that in that moment, we were back on track.

  The rest of the dive passed in a blur of giddiness, as I rode the current back to the boat with Trace, all but laughing into my regulator as we flew past the wall and startled a turtle with our movements. Hating that the dive had to be over, I kick
ed in lazy circles at our fifteen-foot safety stop, hoping that the weirdness of this morning would pass and that Trace and I would be back on even ground. I just couldn't see myself dating one of my best friends. Ultimately, our friendship was too high a price to pay for love, I decided as I held the step ladder at the back of the boat and slid my fins off my feet, chucking each one onto the boat before pulling myself up and waddling over to sit on the bench, sliding my tank into the holder behind me.

  Trace surfaced and pulled himself easily from the water, his smile saying it all.

  “Those rays!” I exclaimed, a smile lighting my face.

  “Biggest ones I've seen in months!” Trace said back, smiling at me as he sat to unbuckle his BCD.

  I blew out a breath in relief as I stood and stripped off my wetsuit, snagging a towel to wrap around me quickly. I didn't want the subject of my curves to come up again.

  “I can't wait to go through my pictures. I already know one client who has been asking for eagle rays specifically. The trio will be perfect for a nice piece over a sofa,” I gushed as I sunk my camera into the freshwater bin on the floor to rinse it of the salt water.

  “We doing another?” Trace asked, nodding towards the water.

  “What time is it?” I asked. We'd need at least an hour of surface time before another dive. I wasn't sure if I wanted to spend an hour with Trace after the weirdness of this morning. Too much going on for me to get my head mired in that today, I thought, as I pushed his comment about going on a date with him from my head.

  “Almost nine.”

  “Let's call it. I have an earlier client today,” I said, not meeting his eyes. And, I needed to run around my house to do a rush clean and pick an outfit for tonight, all before I left for the shop.

  “Fine,” Trace said shortly, moving to the front of the boat to unhook the buoy. Man, was he cranky today.

  “Yup, another glorious day of channeling dead cats and telling people that I won't give them the winning lottery numbers,” I said dryly, unwrapping a granola bar as Trace moved to the wheel of the boat and started the engine.

  Trace snorted a laugh and I felt the tension ease again.

  “I'm really annoyed that you haven't given me the winning lotto numbers yet,” he said and I laughed, loving that he didn't think twice about what I did for a living.

  “Ah well, you know, trade secrets and all that.”

  Trace laughed and then his face got serious again.

  “Well, have fun with Mr. Fancy Investor tonight,” he said, his eyes on the water ahead of him as we motored into the channel towards the docks.

  “Do you have a problem with him?” I asked for the second time, tilting my head at Trace as I tied my soggy curls in a knot on top of my head.

  “I don't like him,” Trace said simply.

  “Well, what the hell does that mean? I didn't know you knew him,” I said, exasperation lacing my voice.

  “I've met him. I don't like him.” Trace shrugged a shoulder and didn't say anything else. A part of me wondered if it was because of how good-looking Cash was. Trace was used to being one of the few hot – and available – men in Tequila Key. Deciding it had to be something like that, and not anything more sinister, I shrugged.

  “Well, I guess I'll let you know what I think after I have dinner with him,” I said lightly, wanting the subject matter to be closed. I was annoyed that this was even an issue. For the first time in ages, I had a decidedly delicious dating prospect and Trace wanted to rain on my parade. Forget it, I thought as we approached our dock and Trace slowed the boat.

  I moved to the top of the boat and jumped onto the dock with the line in my hand, my movements practiced.

  Deciding not to stay and chat like I usually did, I hopped onto the boat and grabbed my bag, slipping the straps over my shoulders and sliding my feet into my sandals.

  “Thanks, this was fun. Add it to my tab,” I said with a smile, knowing that Trace wouldn’t charge me for the air as it was just as fun for him to dive without clients as it was for me to go to take pictures.

  “Have fun tonight,” Trace said dryly, his eyes again hidden behind his sunglasses.

  “Thanks,” I said, moving down the dock. Turning, I looked back at him, standing in just his swimsuit, watching me walk away. Damn, but he was hot.

  “We on for Friday?” I asked, our routine being typically a Wednesday and Friday dive each week.

  “Can't, have a full boat. Saturday?”

  “Done,” I said, moving away before any other uncomfortable topic could come up. There were clients to be read, dresses to be picked out, and dogs to be played with. I couldn't spend time worrying about Trace's little funk this morning.

  I had bigger fish to fry today.

  Chapter Six

  A fancy car was parked outside our shop when I arrived later that morning. As I drew closer, I could see that it was an Audi done up in a white exterior with cream interior detailing. Shamelessly, I scanned the car with my mind to prepare myself and groaned.

  Debating whether to turn around and go back home for another hour, I sighed as I saw Luna at the front window of her shop, raising an arm to greet me.

  “Busted,” I said, getting off my bike and wheeling it to the front where I locked it to the rack.

  I'd had time to shower and gel my hair – in a vain attempt to keep my curls under control – throw on another cute maxi, lay out a bright red dress for dinner, and clean the house of any embarrassing articles before I biked into the store, still about a half hour early for my first appointment. I'd had a mind to talk to Luna about how weird Trace had been this morning, but now it looked like I'd be stuck with our client.

  I pushed the door open, savoring the cool wash of air on my warm skin before I pasted a bright smile on my face.

  “Morning!” I said, turning to Luna and our client.

  Mrs. Janelle Whittier was about fifteen years younger than her husband, Theodore, and I still wasn't quite sure how he had managed to marry her. Perfectly cropped blonde hair, a white sweater tied over her polka-dotted dress, and dripping in pearls, she was the antithesis of everything I loved about this town.

  “Janelle, lovely to see you again,” I said.

  “Althea, I haven't seen you in ages,” she trilled, coming over to air kiss me on each cheek. “I wanted to stop by your cute shop to see if I could find any gifts for my sister's birthday but…it's not quite to my taste,” she said, an eyebrow raised in disapproval at the row of crystals on the table next to me.

  “Really? I'm quite certain your sister would love these hand-made soaps and bath salts,” I said, steering her towards a table full of luscious soaps wrapped in hand-dyed paper.

  “Oh, I hadn't seen these. Well, yes, I suppose those would work,” she said, running her hands over her pearls, and not picking up any of the soaps. That's when I knew she'd really come to see me.

  “Did you need anything else?” I asked chirpily.

  “Well, yes, I suppose, a reading would be nice. I'll just get set up next door,” she said, trailing past the screen into my side of the shop where Luna had already turned my lamps on. My mouth dropped open at the audacity of Janelle's actions. I turned and widened my eyes at Luna, who just held up her hands helplessly. The nerve of this woman! She hadn't even asked if I had an appointment scheduled.

  “Um, Janelle, I have an appointment at eleven,” I said, glancing at my watch as I cursed softly under my breath and moved across the room, pulling the screen shut behind me.

  “That's fine, plenty of time,” Janelle said, sliding into my client's seat, her back ramrod straight. She sniffed as she looked around my room, her eyes landing on my skeleton in the corner. I could all but feel the palpable waves of disgust coming off of her.

  Moving to my table, I sat in my chair, and looked across at her. Instead of grabbing my cards right away, I needed to be clear.

  “A half hour reading is $100,” I said, upping the price slightly because of my annoyance.

 
“That's fine. Can we start?” Janelle shifted in her chair, eyeing me closely.

  “Because of the brevity of the reading I'll ask if you are interested in a general outlook or if you have specific questions that you would like answered.” It wasn’t a typical move for me but I sensed there was a mission behind Miss Country Club's arrival at my doorstep.

  “Direct question,” she decided.

  I handed her my tarot cards.

  “Shuffle as many times as you'd like and then cut the deck in three, please,” I said, allowing my shields to drop so I could tune in to that part of my brain that allowed me to catch glimpses into the future. A dark sense of foreboding crept out of the shadows of my mind and it was all I could do not to gasp. Something was very wrong.

  “Is this confidential?” Janelle asked, her fingers running over her pearls.

  “Always. I wouldn't be in business if it wasn't,” I said.

  “Okay, my first question is…” her eyes darted around the room before she lowered her face, all but whispering into the table, “should I leave Theo?”

  Thank God for years in training on schooling my facial expressions, as I didn't react in the slightest. I picked up the cards and began to deal, laying out a Celtic Cross formation.

  “What is that?”

  “This is a Celtic Cross. Each card holds different meanings towards the question you've asked, for example, this card tells you how you feel about the situation…” I began but she waved her hand in the air, cutting me off.

  “I don't care. Yes or no?”

  I stopped – shocked that she wanted such a blunt answer.

  “You have to understand there is no absolute right answer. Even if I tell you one answer, you still have free will to do as you wish. The best that I can tell you is if a situation will work out favorably if you make that decision,” I said cautiously, needing her to understand that our choices always held weight and that destiny was a fickle mistress.