Free Flamingo Place (Mills & Boon Kimani) by Marcia King-Gamble

heart and was making going after her his personal crusade.
    “Nah, I don’t think so.” Chere’s head moved from right to left. “My girls say the equipment works fine but it’s been out of commission for the last few months, and no one knows why.”
    “He’s probably found himself a partner.”
    “No, Iwould have heard.”
    Chet was now yakking a mile a minute. He was passionate on his subject. “Even more states need to get with the program,” he said. “Homosexuality is a reality in today’s world. There’s at least one of us in each family. Progressive companies are offering insurance to those in same sex partnerships so…”
    “Which makes it even more disheartening when a newcomer to our town sets our effort back several years.”
    “Our,” Jen pointed out. “See.” She and Chere exchanged looks.
    “Nah,” Chere repeated, “Don’t even go there. I told you he was all male.”
    “You had to have been offended by Dear Jenna using the word queer, instead of gay,” WARP’s host stated, no longer interested in beating around the bush.
    “As I said before,” Chet answered, “I didn’t take it personally. I wasn’t offended. ‘Queer’ is perfectly acceptable lingo today.”
    “So why the huge uproar? Why are my phones ringing off the hook? Why are people looking to hang and quarter Dear Jenna? ”
    “It’s her advice that was a problem.” Chet was speaking rapidly now, warming to his subject. “There’s nothing you can do to change genetics. That’swhat Dear Jenna’ s trying to get this mother to do. She’s trying to force the man into becoming something he’s not. That’s just wrong.”
    “Hold that thought,” D’Dawg practically shouted. “We’ve got to make time for our advertisers.”
    During the break, Chere helped herself to yet another beer while Jen settled for a chilled bottle of water. She needed all her wits about her to plan her counterattack when it was her turn to go on WARP.
    The following fifteen minutes D’Dawg entertained questions and comments. It seemed all of Flamingo Beach had tuned in. The conversation now shifted from the perceived slur to the advice that was given. The audience was equally divided and some had quickly changed positions. Instead of wanting to crucify Dear Jenna, they were now praising her for staying on the cutting edge.
    In many ways Jen considered this a victory. She had won over many people, and that translated, hopefully, to new fans and more newspapers purchased.
    At the end of the hour, D’Dawg called a halt to the questions. He thanked Chet and confirmed that Chet’s dad, Mayor Rabinowitz would be on the air the following night.
    “It wouldn’t be fair if Aunt Jemima doesn’t have her say as well,” D’Dawg said. “Two nights fromnow WARP’s going to have Jenna on this show. Stay tuned—temperatures in Flamingo Beach are about to rise even more.”
    “What about me?” Chere said, pointing to her ample chest. “Don’t I deserve my fifteen minutes of fame too? I help you.”
    “You’ll have more than fifteen minutes,” Jen said high-fiving her. “ The Flamingo Beach Chronicle’ s distribution’s about to increase. That should mean money in both of our pockets. There’s a cruise in our future. We’ll be slurping down those Bahama Mamas in no time.”
    “From your mouth to God’s ear.”
    Chere’s palms were in the air, her overdeveloped bootie swung left, right, forward and center. She had that calypso music playing in her ear. In her mind she was already boogying on the upper deck of that cruise ship.
    Temperatures had soared into the nineties, unseasonable for that time of year. Tre having awakened from his afternoon nap, decided lying poolside in the sweltering heat was a pleasant alternative to sitting around an air-conditioned apartment listening to tunes. He’d decided to bring his iPod with him.
    He lay poolside on a cedar lounge chair with aplump striped cushion under him, gulping iced tea, and