run her fingers through it.
She exhaled deeply. “When do we start?”
SIX
Daniel had Catherine on his mind as he walked across the vast lawn of the Hampton estate towards the party tents set up for the charity fundraiser. She wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d found her nice enough but the idea of buddying with someone who could panic at any moment was bad news for any diver. Still, he reminded himself he’d worked with other divers who’d dealt with near tragedies. Maybe she could come through after some practice dives.
He scanned the well-heeled crowd ahead but couldn’t see Sean. She was probably angry with him for being late. And then he spied her—a cool blonde, the kind he would’ve avoided in the past. She stood behind a white wooden arch that had Kissing Booth written on top of it in large red letters. Watching her set up, he admired her form. In a red, figure-clinging sheath dress, she was a knockout—tall and slender with ample breasts. In six months, they’d be married. He thought he loved her, but then why did he find so many things that she did so irritating? Like what she was doing at the moment. It had been her idea to sell kisses for charity.
When she noticed him, she waved and puckered her lips. There were a couple of guys already lined up, and for fifty dollars, Sean wasn’t about to disappoint. Her low-cut neckline exposed her cleavage, and when she kissed the guy Daniel recognized as captain of the local polo team, she pressed against his chest and stayed there longer than necessary.
He waited until she was finished. After the polo guy left, he said, “You were liking that a little too much.”
She giggled. “Can’t blame a girl. Now that I’m out of circulation…”
“Doesn’t seem to be holding you back.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
She responded with such gleeful abandon that Daniel instinctively knew she was playing him. He tried to shrug it off. Perhaps he was jealous. He’d been drunk at the time he proposed, but he’d had his eye on her for awhile. She did excite him and as far as being a desirable catch, she had it in spades. Looks, money, and intelligence. He didn’t think he could do any better.
Bart, another jock, was next in line. “Hey, Daniel! Just because you’re engaged to her, doesn’t mean you can skip the queue.”
“Right.” Daniel said to Sean, “I’ll catch up with you later.” As he left, Bart stepped forward and bussed Sean. Daniel didn’t even look back. Instead, he kept walking past other booths, one for darts and another for raffle tickets to win a vintage green Jaguar.
When he passed yet another booth, a woman with a Slavic accent called out, “Meester, would you like fortune?”
Daniel turned in her direction. A heavy-set fortune teller in a flowing, flower-printed skirt was standing in front of a table advertising tarot card readings. She crooked her finger at him and said, “Yes, you.”
“No thanks.”
“Go for it, Daniel.” Someone punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Can’t be chicken shit all your life.” Daniel turned to see his old friend, Brian, with his wife Marjorie. Brian had been a classmate of Daniel’s at the University of Miami. He was now an environmental engineer for the state of New Jersey. Sean had managed to get both Brian and his wife involved with fund-raising.
“I don’t see you lining up,” Daniel said with a smirk on his face.
Marjorie said, “C’mon Daniel. It’s only fifty bucks. It’s for a good cause.”
“I know,” he said, reluctantly. The New York Philharmonic was in trouble again. With one conductor after the other quitting, they were losing their audience.
The woman with the Eastern European accent shouted, “Come, I tell you your life.”
Daniel frowned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Brian turned to Marjorie. “The Catholic nuns spooked him when he was a kid. Anything paranormal, and Daniel flips out.”
Daniel wasn’t
She exhaled deeply. “When do we start?”
SIX
Daniel had Catherine on his mind as he walked across the vast lawn of the Hampton estate towards the party tents set up for the charity fundraiser. She wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d found her nice enough but the idea of buddying with someone who could panic at any moment was bad news for any diver. Still, he reminded himself he’d worked with other divers who’d dealt with near tragedies. Maybe she could come through after some practice dives.
He scanned the well-heeled crowd ahead but couldn’t see Sean. She was probably angry with him for being late. And then he spied her—a cool blonde, the kind he would’ve avoided in the past. She stood behind a white wooden arch that had Kissing Booth written on top of it in large red letters. Watching her set up, he admired her form. In a red, figure-clinging sheath dress, she was a knockout—tall and slender with ample breasts. In six months, they’d be married. He thought he loved her, but then why did he find so many things that she did so irritating? Like what she was doing at the moment. It had been her idea to sell kisses for charity.
When she noticed him, she waved and puckered her lips. There were a couple of guys already lined up, and for fifty dollars, Sean wasn’t about to disappoint. Her low-cut neckline exposed her cleavage, and when she kissed the guy Daniel recognized as captain of the local polo team, she pressed against his chest and stayed there longer than necessary.
He waited until she was finished. After the polo guy left, he said, “You were liking that a little too much.”
She giggled. “Can’t blame a girl. Now that I’m out of circulation…”
“Doesn’t seem to be holding you back.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
She responded with such gleeful abandon that Daniel instinctively knew she was playing him. He tried to shrug it off. Perhaps he was jealous. He’d been drunk at the time he proposed, but he’d had his eye on her for awhile. She did excite him and as far as being a desirable catch, she had it in spades. Looks, money, and intelligence. He didn’t think he could do any better.
Bart, another jock, was next in line. “Hey, Daniel! Just because you’re engaged to her, doesn’t mean you can skip the queue.”
“Right.” Daniel said to Sean, “I’ll catch up with you later.” As he left, Bart stepped forward and bussed Sean. Daniel didn’t even look back. Instead, he kept walking past other booths, one for darts and another for raffle tickets to win a vintage green Jaguar.
When he passed yet another booth, a woman with a Slavic accent called out, “Meester, would you like fortune?”
Daniel turned in her direction. A heavy-set fortune teller in a flowing, flower-printed skirt was standing in front of a table advertising tarot card readings. She crooked her finger at him and said, “Yes, you.”
“No thanks.”
“Go for it, Daniel.” Someone punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Can’t be chicken shit all your life.” Daniel turned to see his old friend, Brian, with his wife Marjorie. Brian had been a classmate of Daniel’s at the University of Miami. He was now an environmental engineer for the state of New Jersey. Sean had managed to get both Brian and his wife involved with fund-raising.
“I don’t see you lining up,” Daniel said with a smirk on his face.
Marjorie said, “C’mon Daniel. It’s only fifty bucks. It’s for a good cause.”
“I know,” he said, reluctantly. The New York Philharmonic was in trouble again. With one conductor after the other quitting, they were losing their audience.
The woman with the Eastern European accent shouted, “Come, I tell you your life.”
Daniel frowned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Brian turned to Marjorie. “The Catholic nuns spooked him when he was a kid. Anything paranormal, and Daniel flips out.”
Daniel wasn’t
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