Free 1 Sunshine Hunter by Maddie Cochere

it all out when we were home again.
    We left the restaurant and headed toward the elevators. He pushed the button for seven. “Have you called Mick yet?” he asked.
    “I tried last night,” I said shrugging, “but he didn’t answer. “I don’t know if he deliberately ignored my call, or if he really wasn’t available.”
    “I’m sure he was unavailable,” Darby said sympathetically as he slipped his arm around my shoulder and gave me a light squeeze. “Don’t read too much into it. If he calls, answer your phone; otherwise, call him later.”
    “You’re right ,” I said. “I’ll do that. Will I see you for dinner this evening?”
    “Of course. How about a pizza? ” he asked. “There’s a place over by the Yacht Club that was featured on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives. Want to check it out?”
    “Sounds great,” I told him as he stepped into the elevator. I gave him a little wave good-bye before the doors closed and said, “I’ll see you later.”
    We went our separate ways.
     
    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
     
    I was driving north on Gulf Boulevard, on my way to a small elite shopping plaza in South Pasadena where I intended to give my credit cards a healthy workout. The windows were up, the air conditioner was on full blast, and a top 40 station was blaring on the radio. Traffic was moving along at a good clip, but I was in no hurry and didn’t feel like speeding. I was singing along with the radio - loudly. Humph, I could have given Darby a run for his money at karaoke.
    A green Sonic flew past me on the left at a high rate of speed. I didn’t see who was driving. My heart skipped a beat. Was that Skinny Guy again? I turned the radio down to concentrate on my driving and surroundings. A minute later , I saw what looked like another green Sonic going past me in the southbound lane. Before I arrived at the plaza, another green Sonic, driven by a young girl talking on her cell phone, passed me. My paranoia factor was running high. I was either starring in a Hitchcock thriller, or, with a calmer head, I could only surmise this was an obviously popular color and model of car around here.
    I parked the rental car at the south end of the lot and went into the first boutique, Rainforest Skins . I was taken aback by the amount of lush, tropical plants in the small space. Interspersed throughout the plants were handbags and belts made from exotic skins. The handbags were so beautiful they took my breath away. There were crocodile, python, and ostrich purses in some lovely hues. The belts were mostly snakeskin, but a hot pink crocodile belt caught my eye. It was thin with a gold buckle and would be a perfect accent for the ivory linen dress I bought last month. The price tag told me the belt was out of my league, but not by much. The clerk swiped my card, and I was on my way to the next shop.
    Shopping always cured what ailed me. Tensions slipped away when I was spending money, especially on clothing and shoes. The reason I worked two jobs was to support my shopping habit. At least it was at first. I enjoyed working at th e racquetball club so much, I would still work there even if I didn’t want the extra money.
    I stepped into the next small shop which specialized in Italian silk ties. There was very little decor outside of a few wooden accents. The small spa ce was filled with racks, some extending from floor to ceiling. The lone male clerk behind the main counter was fussing with merchandise in the case. It crossed my mind that Mick always wore such handsome ties to work and he would love these beautiful silk ties. I picked out a power pink Versace tie with a faint Roman coin motif. The tie was more salmon than pink, in my opinion. If things didn’t work out for me and Mick, I could always give the tie to my dad at Christmas.
    I also wanted to get something for Darby as a thank you for allowing me to crash his vacation, but I had never seen him wear a tie and didn’t think one would be appreciated. I held up a purple