each of our laps. His muscular hand brushed my thigh, and my skin hummed. Heat rushed to my face.
“I’ll send your waiter right over.” He bowed again and left us.
“Karen, that’s the guy.” I grabbed her elbow. “The one I told you about. My potential future boyfriend.”
“You said you were giving up on men altogether. As I recall, you said there were no good men left on the planet, remember?”
“You’re right, I’m giving up on men. I mean it. But man-oh-Manischewitz, I may have spoken in haste.” Garr greeted a couple at the door and escorted them to a nearby table.
“I admit Garr is a first-class hunk of beefcake, but he’s old enough to be your father.”
“Ooh, you’re just being mean.” I stuck my tongue out at her. “You said Russ. You mean as in Mad Otto’s son?”
Mad Otto earned his nickname during prohibition, and added to his family fortune by supplying bootleg whiskey and gin to speakeasies all over the northeast. Mad Otto’s reputation for ruthlessness and dangerous associates had always kept local law enforcement at a distance. These days, rumors hinted at his dementia and need for round-the-clock nursing care.
“Yes, Garr is Mad Otto’s one and only. Garr took over the restaurant a few years ago. When Otto passes on, Garr is set for life.” Karen raised her eyebrow. “And he is available. Not that you’re interested, I’m sure.”
“Of course not. I’m just curious. How do you know so much?”
“Martin and Garr are old friends and business associates. They play tennis together, and we come here for dinner all the time. Their spinach salads are the best.”
“Maybe I should come here more often.”
“This is probably the last time we’ll eat here. Martin says the place is closing next month.”
“Why? The Sand Castle has been here forever.”
“It’s going to be torn down to make way for the new marina.”
“What a shame. I guess the restaurant business isn’t what it used to be. By the way, I drove by Mystic Properties on my way over, but it was closed.”
“Just call and make an appointment. Sonja says the mage is a spelunker. Is that fascinating or what?”
I rolled my eyes. “Alright, speak English. What the heck is a spelunker?”
“He explores caves.”
I made a face. “Not my idea of a good time.” I gazed longingly at Garr, as he chatted up a party seated at another table. “I like tennis, though. I do like a man with big hands.”
Karen snorted. “Forget the hands, it’s the shoe size that matters. I still can’t believe you stayed with that loser Kip for as long as you did. You probably should stop dating.”
“Are you going to make rude comments about my love life or tell me what you found?”
Karen handed me a stack of copies. “Take a look at this.”
“Why can’t you just tell me? The sooner I get my strange little problem taken care of, the sooner I can resume my normal um, social activities.” I admired how well Garr’s shoulders filled out his suit jacket; I’d bet money the suit was custom tailored.
“Okay, but pay attention.” She put on her glasses and patted the pile of paper sitting in front of me.
“The top article talks about spirit guides, and says you don’t need to be from an indigenous culture to encounter them, and they’re always present in our sub-consciousness. You don’t even have to believe in them to experience them. Sound familiar? And look, here it says clairvoyants are most likely to come in contact with them.”
I nodded and finished skimming the article. “Oh, it says here they can be both animal and spirit.” What a relief. I glanced over and smiled at my gaggle of spirit guides, but they did not respond. “I’ll bet somewhere in that stack of copies you have information on what each animal means.”
“Ta da!” She handed me several more
“I’ll send your waiter right over.” He bowed again and left us.
“Karen, that’s the guy.” I grabbed her elbow. “The one I told you about. My potential future boyfriend.”
“You said you were giving up on men altogether. As I recall, you said there were no good men left on the planet, remember?”
“You’re right, I’m giving up on men. I mean it. But man-oh-Manischewitz, I may have spoken in haste.” Garr greeted a couple at the door and escorted them to a nearby table.
“I admit Garr is a first-class hunk of beefcake, but he’s old enough to be your father.”
“Ooh, you’re just being mean.” I stuck my tongue out at her. “You said Russ. You mean as in Mad Otto’s son?”
Mad Otto earned his nickname during prohibition, and added to his family fortune by supplying bootleg whiskey and gin to speakeasies all over the northeast. Mad Otto’s reputation for ruthlessness and dangerous associates had always kept local law enforcement at a distance. These days, rumors hinted at his dementia and need for round-the-clock nursing care.
“Yes, Garr is Mad Otto’s one and only. Garr took over the restaurant a few years ago. When Otto passes on, Garr is set for life.” Karen raised her eyebrow. “And he is available. Not that you’re interested, I’m sure.”
“Of course not. I’m just curious. How do you know so much?”
“Martin and Garr are old friends and business associates. They play tennis together, and we come here for dinner all the time. Their spinach salads are the best.”
“Maybe I should come here more often.”
“This is probably the last time we’ll eat here. Martin says the place is closing next month.”
“Why? The Sand Castle has been here forever.”
“It’s going to be torn down to make way for the new marina.”
“What a shame. I guess the restaurant business isn’t what it used to be. By the way, I drove by Mystic Properties on my way over, but it was closed.”
“Just call and make an appointment. Sonja says the mage is a spelunker. Is that fascinating or what?”
I rolled my eyes. “Alright, speak English. What the heck is a spelunker?”
“He explores caves.”
I made a face. “Not my idea of a good time.” I gazed longingly at Garr, as he chatted up a party seated at another table. “I like tennis, though. I do like a man with big hands.”
Karen snorted. “Forget the hands, it’s the shoe size that matters. I still can’t believe you stayed with that loser Kip for as long as you did. You probably should stop dating.”
“Are you going to make rude comments about my love life or tell me what you found?”
Karen handed me a stack of copies. “Take a look at this.”
“Why can’t you just tell me? The sooner I get my strange little problem taken care of, the sooner I can resume my normal um, social activities.” I admired how well Garr’s shoulders filled out his suit jacket; I’d bet money the suit was custom tailored.
“Okay, but pay attention.” She put on her glasses and patted the pile of paper sitting in front of me.
“The top article talks about spirit guides, and says you don’t need to be from an indigenous culture to encounter them, and they’re always present in our sub-consciousness. You don’t even have to believe in them to experience them. Sound familiar? And look, here it says clairvoyants are most likely to come in contact with them.”
I nodded and finished skimming the article. “Oh, it says here they can be both animal and spirit.” What a relief. I glanced over and smiled at my gaggle of spirit guides, but they did not respond. “I’ll bet somewhere in that stack of copies you have information on what each animal means.”
“Ta da!” She handed me several more
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