Free Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 04 - Killer Kool by Marty Ambrose Page B

gloves. He looked
like a scarecrow. “I thought you might need this, since
the cold front came through, and I know your Airstream
is kind of old.”
    Holding up a space heater in one hand, he managed
to balance the oxygen tank and a bouquet of flowers in
the other.
    I grinned at the sight of the heater and seized it as if
it were a lifeline.
    “I have to take care of you now that we’re dating.” He
held out the flowers.
    The grin faded. Huh?
    “We most definitely are not a couple, but I will take
the heater.” I closed the door on him quickly. That’s all I
needed: a geriatric suitor to fill in the gap left by the hasty
departures of Cole and Nick last night. I wasn’t that desperate. Besides, they’d be back-or so I hoped.
    I peeped out my window and saw Pop Pop rev off in
his golf cart. My glance slid over to Cole’s van-still no
sign of him.
    Regretful, I turned away from the window, heater in hand. At least Pop Pop had left before anyone had seen
him at my door with flowers.

    I headed for the shower.
    An hour later, I strolled into the Observer office. Sandy
greeted me from her desk, ensconced in a brown and yellow knit poncho. Anita stood next to her, sporting a pea
green velour warm-up suit. Needless to say, my own outfit of jeans and moth-eaten sweater wasn’t exactly an
ensemble out of Vogue. But it so rarely turned this frigid
in Florida, people tended not to invest in cold-weather
gear-including me.
    “That temperature drop last night caught me off guard,”
I commented, sitting at my desk and flipping on the computer. “Brr.”
    I rubbed my hands together for emphasis.
    Sandy giggled.
    “What’s up?” I swiveled my chair around. “I thought
you’d be a basket case after Madame Geri’s prediction
and the events at Little Tuscany yesterday.”
    “That’s before we heard you were dating Pop Pop,”
Anita responded with a wry nod. “You’re hitting the bottom of the barrel, kiddo.”
    My mouth thinned. “I am not dating Pop Pop!”
    “But we heard that you had dinner with him last
night at Le Sink,” Sandy said in an amused voice. “That
must’ve been fun-“
    “Oh, for goodness’ sake, it wasn’t like a date-the man has to be a hundred and fifty if he’s a day,” I protested. “The only reason I went with him is I got busted
trying to go out with Cole and Nick Billie on the same
night-“

    “What?” Sandy’s brown eyes widened into saucers.
“Nick and Cole together? Yow. Did they have a fistfight?
I’ll bet Nick Billie could kick butt.”
    “No, they didn’t get physical. When they saw each
other, they both just left-with me holding flowers and
chocolates but no guy.”
    “Chocolates?” Sandy’s tone turned wistful. “Godiva?”
    I nodded.
    “My favorite.” She smacked her lips. “The dark kind?
Or the-“
    “Okay, enough of this crap,” Anita cut in, sitting on the
corner of Sandy’s desk. “And for the record, if you want
to date a guy who hasn’t chewed his own food since the
disco era, I could care less. But I do care that you did
your restaurant review.”
    I produced my flash drive with a flourish. “Finished it
this morning.” Placing it in her outstretched palm, I
continued, “Also for the record, Pop Pop has a nice set
of dentures.”
    Her fingers closed around the small drive. “Spoken
like a woman in love.”
    I leveled a mean glare in her direction and headed for
the Mr. Coffee.
    She cackled. “Did you include anything about Marco’s
death? That would make a tasty little dessert-“

    “Wait a minute.” I stopped mid-pour. “I reviewed Le
Sink-and skipped Little Tuscany because Marco died.
I was going to drop by Pelican’s Grill today-“
    “Jeez Louise. Do I have to explain everything?” She
tossed the drive onto my desk, as I strolled back with my
steaming cup of java. “Post the Le Sink review, skip
the stop at Pelican’s Grill, and add a blog update of Little
Tuscany, complete with the