Crazy For You (3 page)

“Listen—” He didn’t want to miss the opportunity to
see her again. “—If I give you my phone number, would you promise
to call me...even if it’s only to say goodbye?”

“Sure.”

Frank wrote his number on a napkin and Roxanne stuck
it inside her purse without looking at it.

“Can I see you and your sister to your car?” he
offered because it seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do.

“No...but you can walk us to my van.” She chuckled,
as if she’d realized the humor in her remark.

“Cute.” Frank had no choice but to laugh. “I owe
you,” he promised.

Candy couldn’t imagine seeing Roxanne in such a
frisky mood. This wasn’t her nature at all. But Roxanne was
laughing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Roxanne
laugh. At that moment, Candy decided she liked Frank Garrett.

The three of them walked through the parking lot and
Frank decided to see if he could get Candy on his side. “Candy, I
was telling Roxie that if you girls decide to stick around for
awhile, maybe you can come see my band play sometime.”

“That’d be fun,” Candy said without much interest,
then got in the van.

Frank turned to Roxanne. “Well …” He slid his hands
inside his pockets and smiled. “I guess I’d better let you go.” Was
he nuts? It must be so. Why was he not trying to close the deal
tonight? His instincts were telling him to wait. It was a move he
hoped he didn’t end up regretting.

“It was nice meeting you,” Roxanne said.

“May I kiss your cheek?”

“I’d like that.”

Frank’s lips brushed against her face, swathing her
in chills fueled by a craving she’d never experienced—not to this
extent. She shuddered, unsure about what to do with the unfamiliar
desires.

“Good night.” He looked like he was pushing himself
to leave. Finally, when he did turn to walk away, Roxanne felt like
a part of her was leaving with him.

“Night…” Her voice trailed off as she watched him
go. Granted, Chuck was the only man who’d ever kissed her—before
tonight—but she couldn’t remember a single one of his kisses ever
leaving her feeling so indefensible.

“Hey, Rocky…” Candy called to her. “He’s gone. You
can get in the van now.”

Roxanne hesitated, trying to bury the emotion she
was sure had found its way to her face. She couldn’t let
Candy—Chuck’s sister—see what she was feeling. She climbed into the
van on the passenger’s side and avoided looking at Candy.

“What’s wrong?” Candy asked.

“Nothing.” Roxanne went for casual, but feared she
missed.

“I thought you liked him?”

“I do.” Finally, she looked at Candy. “But maybe I
should just forget the whole thing.”

“Why?” Candy gave her a scrutinizing glance. “You
like him. He definitely likes you. So what’s the problem?”

“Well…” Roxanne knew it was a bad idea but she said
it anyway, “I guess I feel guilty.”

“Guilty?” Candy said, confused. “For what?”

“For feeling the way I do.”

Candy’s eyes lit up like a lightbulb had turned on
inside her head. “You’ve got the hots for Frank!” She pointed an
accusatory finger at Roxanne.

“Is that bad?”

“No...” Candy shook her head. “Listen, you shouldn’t
feel guilty because you want Frank. Chuck wouldn’t want you to feel
guilty. My brother would want you to do whatever it takes to make
yourself happy.”

Roxanne knew Candy was right about that. Chuck
wouldn’t want either of them to stop living just because he had.
She felt a rush of confidence as Candy gave her a quick nod, then
Roxanne remembered what she’d said about Frank liking her. “Do you
really think he likes me?” she asked. “Or do you think he just
wants a piece?”

“Well…he probably wants a piece,” Candy said. “But I
don’t think that’s all he wants.”

“Why me?”

“Look, don’t sell yourself short.” Candy started the
van and shifted into gear. “I believe that Frank genuinely likes
you.”

And everybody knew, Candy was a good judge of
character.

S
unning by the motel’s
pool, Candy looked down at herself. In a matter of days she’d
acquired a nice tan. There was something to be said for Florida.
Another month and she’d be a gorgeous bronze color—something that
Kathy Pritchard, back home, would kill for.

She looked at Roxanne, wondering if she’d been
thinking about Frank at all. Candy sure had. She hadn’t forgotten
how he’d made Roxanne laugh. He needed to do that again, but
Roxanne had to call him before that could happen. Apparently, Candy
was going to have to light that fire.

“Rocky—” She put forth extra effort to sound casual.
“—do you like it here?”

“Sure,” Roxanne said, a bit indifferently.

“Well let’s stay here then.”

Roxanne’s head popped up. She shaded her eyes and
looked at Candy. “You really want to?”

“Sure.” Candy didn’t want to leave Tampa without
Roxanne exploring the possibility of what might happen with Frank.
If he could help her mend her heart, even a little bit, then it
would be worth it. “And you could call your friend, Frank. Maybe
he’s got a really cute friend in that band of his who’s looking for
a gorgeous petite blonde.”

Candy’s contagious laughter filled the air,
infecting Roxanne. Yep, Candy was pretty much convinced. Frank
Garrett was just the medicine Roxanne needed.

***

Chapter 2

R
oxanne and Candy scoured
Tampa in search of somewhere to live. They found the perfect place
in Temple Terrace. The price took about half of Roxanne’s money,
but it was a sound investment.

They decorated the two-story condo in a tropical
atmosphere, accentuating it with lots of plants and the colors of
sandy beaches, sunrises, sunsets, and the ocean. In the spacious
open floor plan, the living room sank cozily down and flowed into a
screened-in terrace. Off to the right, the dining room and kitchen
blended in with the sweeping atmosphere. Candy’s bedroom suite was
down a hallway just behind the kitchen. A bathroom and another
small bedroom were on the opposite side of the hall.

To the right of the front door, stairs disappeared
up toward Roxanne’s domain. Halfway up, she’d placed a loveseat in
a small landing, and from there it took a few more strides to get
to her master suite. Large towering windows spanned the far wall
and filtered sunshine over the king-size bed. On the opposite side
of the room a closet and a dressing area led into the condominium’s
best feature, a Romanesque-styled bathroom complete with an
oversized Jacuzzi tub.

It took the girls a couple of weeks to settle in,
then Candy proceeded to badger Roxanne until she agreed to call
Frank.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Roxanne fiddled with
the napkin Frank had written his number on at the bar, and tried to
convince herself to pick up the phone. What if he’d lost interest?
Or worse yet, what if he didn’t remember her? She considered the
odds of whether or not Candy would believe that. In the end,
Roxanne decided Candy wouldn’t be satisfied until she had
thoroughly humiliated herself. Roxanne gathered the courage to dial
the number on the napkin.

The butterflies began to stir.

“Hello…” A deep voice answered the phone, but
Roxanne knew it wasn’t Frank.

“Hi.” She swallowed hard as the butterflies began to
flutter about. “Is Frank there?”

“Sure,” he said. “Can I say who’s calling?”

“Yes.” Roxanne remembered how Frank had wanted to
call her Roxie. “It’s Roxie.”

“You’re real...?” His disbelief reached across the
wire. “I was beginning to think he was losing it. But you’re
real.”

“Well of course I’m real.”

“Hold on.”

Silence crowded the next few seconds and it dragged
on for what seemed an eternity, until she heard Frank say,
“Roxie?”

His voice calmed the butterflies.

“I hope I’m not calling at a bad time,” she
said.

“No, not at all.” He quickly offered reassurance. “I
was beginning to think you weren’t going to call me though.”

“Sorry about that,” she said, “but we’ve been really
busy.”

“Getting a place to live, I hope.”

“As a matter of fact, we did.”

“That’s good news.” Relief poured out in his tone.
“I was hoping you weren’t calling to say goodbye,” he said with a
bit of nervous laughter. “Think you and Candy might want to come
see my band play this evening?”

“I’d like that,” she said, elated that he still
wanted to see her.

A
t a quarter till seven the
doorbell rang. Candy had hot rollers in her hair and she was in the
midst of putting on her makeup.

Damn. She should probably get it since it was
doubtful that Roxanne was ready. Candy couldn’t care less if Frank
saw her like this. “I got it!” she yelled, heading for the
door.

Candy expected to see Frank standing outside the
door. She also expected him to be alone, but he wasn’t. She slammed
the door.

“Candy...?” Frank’s voice filtered in as he pounded
on the door. “Open up.”

She leaned against the door. “Frank. Count to ten.
Then you can come inside.” Candy made a mad dash for her
bedroom.

Frank opened the door carefully and peered in.
“Candy?”

Nothing. It was quiet and still. He pushed the door
open and cautiously stepped inside. “Come on, Rich,” he said to his
friend.

Frank stopped just inside the doorway. Rich paused
at his side. “Got yourself a rich girl, huh Frank?”

“She’s not rich.” Frank shook his head. He had no
facts to go on. It was just a feeling.

“This place belongs to a rich person,” Rich said,
looking around.

Frank glanced at Rich and frowned. Intuitively, he
knew he’d find Roxanne upstairs. “Wait here,” he said to Rich and
took the steps two at a time. Halfway up, he saw the loveseat and
sat down. For some reason—and why, he couldn’t explain—giving
Roxanne the chance to come out seemed like a really good idea.

Frank, a gentleman? Who knew?

W
hat the hell
, Rich
decided he’d go find the mystery girl. She hadn’t exactly been
thrilled to see him standing behind Frank, but Rich was never one
to back down from a challenge. And she was just his type—a pretty
blonde with nice legs and a great rack.

He headed into the hallway off the kitchen and
opened the door on the right. An empty room.

Rich glanced farther down the passage and saw two
more doors, one on each side. The one on the left was closer and
slightly ajar, so he opted to try it. He tapped on the door, but
got no response. So, being an adventurous guy, he opened it enough
to stick his head inside. “Hey, lady?” he called out playfully.

Another door slammed shut.

With a surplus of confidence, Rich went to the
closed door inside the bedroom. “Hey, lady?” he called out
lightheartedly. The door obviously led to the bathroom, and
therefore, she’d cornered herself. “You got any more doors in there
to slam in my face?” He laughed softly, amusing himself if no one
else.

“Who are you?” Her sharp tone traveled through the
door.

“Rich.” He tried not to laugh, but it was hard.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, still through
the door.

“Hey look,” he said. “Can’t you at least come out
here and give me the third degree face to face?” He turned away
from the door and rolled his gaze around the room. “Am I that
ugly?”

The door swung open and her finger flew up in his
face. “You know,” she said in a scolding tone, “you got a lot of
nerve—”

Candy stopped mid-sentence. Every word had abandoned
her.

He wasn’t ugly at all. A wild mane of golden
ringlets hung down just past his shoulders and filled her mind with
thoughts of tangling it in her hands in the heat of the moment.
Sable eyes, dangerously alluring, appeared to emit sparks of fire
and electricity, snagging what little sensibility she had left.

Candy was impressed.

F
rank fidgeted, still
sitting on the loveseat halfway up the stairs. His anticipation was
about to get the better of him. He’d waited long enough to see her.
“Roxie…”

Instantly, she appeared at the top of the stairs.
When their eyes met, she smiled.

He stood. “Hi.”

“I’m almost ready,” she said. “Come on up.”

Frank sprinted up the stairs and stopped inside the
doorway, looking around. “This is a really nice place you got
here.” He sat in the chair next to the door. “I wasn’t aware they
rented them out,” he added, offhandedly. Fishing for information
hadn’t been his intention.

“They don’t.” She disappeared through a door on the
far side of the room.

Frank got up and followed her. Even though the
evidence was mounting suggesting otherwise, she didn’t seem like
the type that’d been bred with money. He’d known some trust-fund
debs in his day, but she didn’t have that superior air about her.
No—there was only one way a girl like Roxanne could come by a place
like this. He didn’t want to believe that either.

“This may be none of my business,” he said, “but how
did you come by this place?”

She saw the confusion on his face, although she
didn’t understand it. “I…ah…I inherited some money from a death in
the family.” Roxanne told the truth, in a roundabout way. She
looked around the room. “This place took almost all of it,” she
said with a shrug and a smile.

“I’m sorry about the death.”

“Thanks.” She looked away and went back to adding
the finishing touches to her makeup and hair.

Maybe she should have told him about Chuck right
then and there. But she didn’t want to think about Chuck anymore.
The only thing she wanted to concern herself with now was Frank
Garrett.

***

Chapter 3

T
hat evening, Frank’s band
was scheduled to play at a club called
Mark Twain
. He,
Roxanne, Rich, and Candy arrived at the already crowded bar a
little past nine. The locals loved Garrett-Hollander and when they
played anywhere in Tampa Bay their fans packed the clubs.