I couldn’t begin to imagine how beautiful and sexy the blond he’d left her for was. Em is one good-looking woman, but Jackie Fuentes was unbelievable. Maybe a little Latin and Italian and just plain gorgeous thrown in together.
Her cute, almost-naked butt led the way back to the house. She picked up a short robe from a chair by the pool and threw it around her shoulders. An attempt at decency, but the indecent part was already burned into my mind.
She opened the door and walked into the foyer. Marble tile continued from the porch and a huge living area spread out in all directions. I glanced up and saw the largest chandelier I’d ever seen in my life, even in a picture. Shining brass and hundreds of bulbs in a free-form fixture cast shadows below.
She escorted us down a wide hallway, carpeted like an expensive hotel. All right, the only expensive hotel I’d ever stayed in was when our high school swim team went up to Gainsville and I beat Fred Rea in the 100-meter breaststroke. But that was a pretty fancy hotel and this carpet reminded me of it.
“That’s the theater there.” We passed a room with five rows of seats and a large screen mounted on the wall. “And over there was ,” she said the word in a chilly tone of voice, “his weight room. I hope you guys are up to moving his weights.”
James finally got his voice. I’d never seen him so awed. By the house, by the ocean view, and by Mrs. Jackie Fuentes. “Mrs. Fuentes, we’ll move whatever you have.”
She stopped and looked back at him, smiling a delicious smile. “It’s James?”
“It is.”
“And I’m Jackie. Not Mrs. Fuentes. I never want to be called Mrs. Fuentes again.”
“I never meant to offend you.”
“You’re cute, you know that?”
Em rolled her eyes.
At the end of the hall we entered a large room with boxes piled eight feet high. Clothing hung on wheeled aluminum racks, and in the far corner someone had set out his weights, a bench, and several barbells. I hadn’t lifted weights in six years. I’d like to think that I’m still in shape, but I don’t condition anymore, my diet isn’t exactly the best, and the number of beers consumed each week seems to increase at an alarming rate. What the hell, there were two of us. We could lift them.
I had a brief flirtation with the idea of buying them from her. We’d set them up on our patio and work out every afternoon after work. I weighed the two options. Lift weights, drink beer. As I said, it was a brief flirtation.
James, on the other hand, seemed to have more than a brief flirtation with Jackie Fuentes. She laughed at something he’d said and I could see the old James Lessor confidence oozing from him.
“Jackie?” Em broke in. She didn’t seem to like where this was going. “Why don’t you tell the guys what goes and if you have any specific packing instructions.”
“Sure.” She shook that pretty head and pulled the robe around her. “There’s a back entrance just at the end of the next hall. You can back your truck up there and just load it all in. I’ve got the address you’ll be taking it to.”
James touched her hand. “Leave it to us, Jackie. We’ll take care of everything.”
James was being a total idiot. For a minute I thought he might offer to do it for free, or for the chance to see her without that swimsuit. No, this was our future. You can’t screw up your first job because of a good-looking lady. I mean, it’s conceivable you’d find a good-looking lady at a number of your jobs. But, as I said, if I’d known what was in store, I would have stopped the whole project then and there.
I looked at Jackie Fuentes, and imagined her without the robe or bikini. It was cheaper that way.
CHAPTER SEVEN
J AMES MANEUVERED THE TRUCK up to the door. Em had been right. Backing up was a bitch. He swerved this way and that trying to get a feel for what he was seeing in the side mirrors. I stood by the door, yelling when he was in danger of hitting
Her cute, almost-naked butt led the way back to the house. She picked up a short robe from a chair by the pool and threw it around her shoulders. An attempt at decency, but the indecent part was already burned into my mind.
She opened the door and walked into the foyer. Marble tile continued from the porch and a huge living area spread out in all directions. I glanced up and saw the largest chandelier I’d ever seen in my life, even in a picture. Shining brass and hundreds of bulbs in a free-form fixture cast shadows below.
She escorted us down a wide hallway, carpeted like an expensive hotel. All right, the only expensive hotel I’d ever stayed in was when our high school swim team went up to Gainsville and I beat Fred Rea in the 100-meter breaststroke. But that was a pretty fancy hotel and this carpet reminded me of it.
“That’s the theater there.” We passed a room with five rows of seats and a large screen mounted on the wall. “And over there was ,” she said the word in a chilly tone of voice, “his weight room. I hope you guys are up to moving his weights.”
James finally got his voice. I’d never seen him so awed. By the house, by the ocean view, and by Mrs. Jackie Fuentes. “Mrs. Fuentes, we’ll move whatever you have.”
She stopped and looked back at him, smiling a delicious smile. “It’s James?”
“It is.”
“And I’m Jackie. Not Mrs. Fuentes. I never want to be called Mrs. Fuentes again.”
“I never meant to offend you.”
“You’re cute, you know that?”
Em rolled her eyes.
At the end of the hall we entered a large room with boxes piled eight feet high. Clothing hung on wheeled aluminum racks, and in the far corner someone had set out his weights, a bench, and several barbells. I hadn’t lifted weights in six years. I’d like to think that I’m still in shape, but I don’t condition anymore, my diet isn’t exactly the best, and the number of beers consumed each week seems to increase at an alarming rate. What the hell, there were two of us. We could lift them.
I had a brief flirtation with the idea of buying them from her. We’d set them up on our patio and work out every afternoon after work. I weighed the two options. Lift weights, drink beer. As I said, it was a brief flirtation.
James, on the other hand, seemed to have more than a brief flirtation with Jackie Fuentes. She laughed at something he’d said and I could see the old James Lessor confidence oozing from him.
“Jackie?” Em broke in. She didn’t seem to like where this was going. “Why don’t you tell the guys what goes and if you have any specific packing instructions.”
“Sure.” She shook that pretty head and pulled the robe around her. “There’s a back entrance just at the end of the next hall. You can back your truck up there and just load it all in. I’ve got the address you’ll be taking it to.”
James touched her hand. “Leave it to us, Jackie. We’ll take care of everything.”
James was being a total idiot. For a minute I thought he might offer to do it for free, or for the chance to see her without that swimsuit. No, this was our future. You can’t screw up your first job because of a good-looking lady. I mean, it’s conceivable you’d find a good-looking lady at a number of your jobs. But, as I said, if I’d known what was in store, I would have stopped the whole project then and there.
I looked at Jackie Fuentes, and imagined her without the robe or bikini. It was cheaper that way.
CHAPTER SEVEN
J AMES MANEUVERED THE TRUCK up to the door. Em had been right. Backing up was a bitch. He swerved this way and that trying to get a feel for what he was seeing in the side mirrors. I stood by the door, yelling when he was in danger of hitting
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