Three Blonde Mice by Jane Heller

Author:Jane Heller [Heller, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781682302842
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2016-03-07T05:00:00+00:00

19

I called Jonathan when I got back to my cottage to let him know I was free and ready for our date. His phone went straight to voice mail, so I left a message in my most seductive voice suggesting we rendezvous on the terrace again.

While I waited, I decided to do more due diligence than merely google Jonathan. I knew one person in Palm Beach—Olivia Martindale—and it made sense to shoot her an e-mail. Olivia ran Pearson & Strulley’s satellite office there, and we’d bumped into each other at various corporate functions over the years. It was her job to know everything about everybody in South Florida, so I asked her for a thumbnail sketch of Jonathan Birnbaum, Esq, explaining that I’d met him on vacation and that a romance between us might be developing. She was British and communicated in clipped, rather abrupt shorthand, but I trusted that she’d tell me if Jonathan had any blemishes on his reputation.

When he returned my call, he asked if we could meet at my cottage instead of on Whitley’s terrace—“more private,” he said—and I agreed. And then I changed my mind. “You’ve already seen my digs here. I’d like to see yours.” What I wanted to see, of course, were clues that might link Jonathan to the letter.

“My cottage awaits,” he said. “Come as soon as you can.”

I changed out of the clothes I’d been wearing, since they had a distinctly low-tide smell after all the fish I’d handled, put on a black V-neck top and white jeans, fluffed my hair, applied lipstick and blush, and dabbed a little Shalimar behind my ears.

Not bad, I thought as I gave myself the once-over in the mirror above the sink. Not Heidi Klum, but good enough not to scare small children.

“For you,” he said when I arrived, presenting me with a bouquet of wildflowers in a pretty earthenware vase. Don’t ask me what the flowers were—that was Jackie’s domain— but they were bursting with color and very summery.

“Did you pick these yourself?” I asked as I set the flowers on the coffee table. He had showered before I came over, judging by the slight dampness at the ends of his hair.

He chuckled. “I can cook, but my gardening skills are limited. I bought them in the hotel gift shop.” He gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

“You’re so thoughtful, Jonathan,” I said, and meant it. I’m telling you, this guy would not have given me a microwave for my birthday.

“Not thoughtful. I just like you, Elaine. A lot,” he said after another quick kiss, this one on the tip of my nose. “I’m hoping this will turn into something.”

“But we hardly know each other,” I said not for the first time. “And your ex-wives didn’t exactly treat you well, from what you told me. Aren’t you a little hesitant to jump into another relationship?”

“You’re nothing like my ex-wives,” he said between nibbles on my neck. “You’re steady and dependable.”

I laughed. “You make me sound like a Maytag washing machine.

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