helmets together. Helen stayed sitting on the bike, a little dazed. Daniel dismounted and kissed her. Hard. She dropped the helmet and kissed him back, her fingers tangled in his long dark hair, her chest pressed against his black leather jacket.
“I have to leave now,” he said finally. “But I want to see you tomorrow night. Seven-thirty OK? We’ll go for a longer ride.”
“Oh, yes,” Helen said, knowing he was not talking about his motorcycle.
Chapter 25
“I have a new system to win the lottery,” Peggy the parrot lady said.
“Hmmmm,” Helen said absently. She was still dazed by Daniel’s kisses. Her lips were swollen and bruised. Her cheeks burned, rubbed raw by his beard, which was pleasantly rough. Like his kisses.
Tomorrow night she would have that perfect body all to herself. If those kisses were any preview, Daniel was even better than he looked.
Helen plopped down at the picnic table and stared into the night, wishing it would go away and become tomorrow, so she could be with Daniel.
“Are you OK?” Peggy said, then looked closer at Helen. “No, you’re not. You look like you’ve been hit on the head with a coconut.”
“I went for a ride on Daniel’s new Harley.”
Peggy whistled. So did Pete the parrot.
“He wants to take me riding tomorrow night,” Helen said.
“Well, well,” Peggy said. “Are you going?”
“Oh, yes,” Helen sighed. “He’s absolutely perfect. I think this is it.”
“Oh, oh. What kind of protection do you have?”
“Huh?” Helen said.
“I thought so,” Peggy said. “Don’t pretend he’s swept you off your feet when you wind up in his bed tomorrow night. Do you have any condoms?”
Helen could feel a blush creeping up her neck. “No,” she said.
“I have a box I’ll never use. I’ll get it for you.”
Helen was content to daydream in the dark until Peggy returned with the condoms. “Helen, I hate to sound like your mother, but do you know what you’re doing? You aren’t the type who has casual affairs. You’re a serious person. This guy dates strippers. If you just want a good time, Daniel could be fun. But he’s not for the long haul. If you’re looking for any kind of commitment, he’ll probably take off. Can you live with that?”
“Daniel may not be Mr. Right, but he’s Mr. Right Now,” Helen said. She was surprised to hear herself say that, but she meant it. “I don’t care if I only have one night with Daniel. No woman can expect perfection forever. I’ll take what I can get.”
“Then put these in your purse.”
“Thirty-six condoms?” Helen said.
“Hope you use them all,” Peggy said, and winked.
“Thanks,” Helen said. She went to her apartment as if she were sleepwalking. On the way, she passed through Phil’s perpetual cloud of burning hemp.
Phil had his dreams. So did Peggy. Tomorrow, Helen would have hers.
Helen was not sure how she made it through work the next day. She brought the wrong sizes for her customers. She counted out the wrong change. She forgot to buzz in Brittney and left her standing outside the green door tapping her foot impatiently. Tara finally noticed Brittney and admitted her. When Brittney asked about the progress of Christina’s police investigation, Helen simply smiled and stared into space, which shocked Brittney. No wonder she left in a huff.
After that disaster, Helen tried drinking black coffee until her nerves screeched like a badly tuned violin. The caffeine did not make her more alert. She picked at her lunch. She said, “What?” when Tara asked her questions. But mostly Helen stared into nothing, like a woman in a trance. She’d been put into that trance by Daniel’s kiss. Only another kiss would break the spell.
Yesterday, she’d been dying to examine the other CD tower. But that was before Daniel. Now she didn’t care about Juliana’s ugly secrets. All Helen could think about was Daniel, the man with the dashing black leather, the magnificent muscles, the beautiful manners.
Tonight, she had a date with the perfect man. Daniel could ask out any woman in South Florida, but he wanted to spend the evening—and the night—with Helen.
What should she wear on their first date? She mentally went through her closet, discarding one outfit after another as too old, too dowdy, too dull. Helen would have broken into her precious stash and bought something spectacular at Juliana’s except she could not wear any of the store’s midget sizes.
Helen finally decided on her black pantsuit, which always made her look slim. She had some flimsy French underwear, which she hadn’t worn since before her divorce. She wished she had time for a facial, a makeover, a complete exercise program.
That afternoon, Helen jammed the cash register, and it took Tara half an hour to fix it. Then she knocked over Tara’s soda and ruined a Chanel scarf.
“You are useless today,” Tara said. “It’s five-thirty. Why don’t you go home?”
“What if something happens while you’re here alone? Paulie will never forgive me.”
“Paulie will never know. You’re doing more damage than an army of looters,” Tara said, and pushed Helen toward the door.
Helen went. Maybe Tara wanted another chance to search the store. Helen didn’t care. She doubted Tara would stumble on the photos in the CD towers.
Helen ran all the way home. All she could think about was getting ready for her date with Daniel. She took a long steamy shower, washed her hair, painted her nails, creamed her skin, and put on the black French bra that gave her the incredible cleavage. She carefully applied her makeup. But her hands shook so badly, she smeared her dark eyeliner. Helen tried to wipe it off with a Q-tip, and wound up with black raccoon circles around her eyes.
Helen took off all her makeup and reapplied it.
The last things Helen put on were the diamond earrings Rob gave her on their wedding night. They were the only good jewelry she kept from her old life. Her engagement ring had been sold, along with her Rolex watch and the diamond pendant Rob bought her for their tenth anniversary. She threw her gold wedding band in the Mississippi when she left St. Louis.
When she finished, Helen twirled in front of the mirror and decided she didn’t look half bad. It was seven- twenty-five. Helen went outside. Peggy and Pete the parrot were out by the pool with Margery. Her landlady was wearing a tie-dyed purple shorts set and magenta suede mules.
Peggy began whistling, “Here Comes the Bride.” Margery told her to hush.
“You look lovely, dear,” Margery said. “It’s about time that boy dated a real woman. What time are you going out?”
“Seven-thirty,” Helen said. “Any minute now.”
They heard cars squeal into the parking lot and then the blare of police radios. A uniformed police officer went running to the back exit of the Coronado.
“What the heck?” Margery said, and got up.
Another uniform ran to the foot of the staircase. Two men in plain clothes and dark windbreakers that said FDLE walked purposefully up the steps to Daniel’s second-floor apartment, hands hovering above their weapons. Helen had lived here long enough to know they were the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. One knocked on
