LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Where did you hear that?”

      “Where any self-respecting gossip seeker does. The internet. There was a picture of one and everything.”

      “I don’t give every woman a gift basket.”

      “It depends on how good they are in bed, huh?”

      “What?”

      She giggled. She would think this was a mean joke if she weren’t so entertained by it. “You can drop the act now. Are you one of Asa’s friends? You’ve done a great job mimicking the voice. I’m impressed.”

      “I’m sorry, Ms. Andersen, but this is really Carlos Bradley and I really am calling to see if you will decorate my house.”

      “Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “And I was on the cover of the swimsuit issue.”

      “I’m not joking.”

      “No? Well, if you aren’t joking and you are Mr. MVP with the sexy round behind and the sleazy parting gifts, then I expect a town car waiting for me here at ten tomorrow morning and a private plane taking me to Hideaway Island. I could take the ferry, but why should I? You can afford to fly me out.”

      “A private plane?”

      “Yup and chocolate. I would like a basket of Swiss chocolates waiting for me when I get there.”

      “Fine. 10:00 a.m. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      “Great! See ya then.” She hung up the phone. Asa had gotten her good. She was going to have fun getting him back.

Chapter 2

      The next morning Virginia was sitting in her office thumbing through her recently delivered design magazines when a man in a black suit and cap came through the door.

      “Can I help you?”

      “I’m here to pick up Virginia Andersen.”

      She blinked at the man for a moment. He certainly was wearing a driver’s uniform complete with a name tag. “Pick me up for what?”

      “I’m Mr. Bradley’s Miami driver. He asked me to take you to the airstrip. There will be another driver waiting for you to take you to his house.”

      “What?” She laughed. “You’re here to take me to the airstrip?”

      “Yes, ma’am.” He looked confused for a moment and then glanced at his watch. “The pickup was requested for ten o’clock. Is that correct?”

      “Um...” She thought back to the phone call yesterday. She had requested a 10:00 a.m. pickup along with a long list of ridiculous things. Her brother had sworn he wasn’t playing a joke on her when she’d called him last night. She hadn’t believed him. He was the same guy who used to throw spiders at her when they were kids. She wouldn’t put a phone call past him, but this...this was too much. “I did say ten.”

      “Do you need more time, ma’am?”

      “No.” She stood up, grabbing her handbag from beneath her desk. “I just need to lock up. I’ll be out in a minute.”

      “I’ll be waiting outside.” He turned to leave.

      “Wait! You aren’t an ax murderer, are you?”

      “No,” he said slowly, pulling out his wallet. “I can show you my credentials.” He showed her his employee ID and his driver’s license.

      “You probably think I sound crazy. You probably are just doing what you are paid to do and have nothing to do with this whatsoever. I’ll be out in a moment. Thank you, Richard.”

      He left and Virginia pulled her cell phone out of her bag, calling her best friend Willa.

      “Hello?”

      “Hey, Wil. It’s me. I can’t talk right now, but I think my brother is playing a huge joke on me. Just in case he’s not, I want someone to know that a driver showed up at my office to take me to Carlos Bradley’s house. The story is he wants me to decorate it.”

      “What?”

      “I know.” Virginia shook her head. “It’s unbelievable. But if I don’t call you back by eight tonight, call the police.”

      “Don’t get in that car, girl. It could be because I write murder mysteries for a living that I’m crazy paranoid, but I wouldn’t do it.”

      “I really think Asa’s up to something. He called me yesterday right before all this started. He wanted me to come home. I’m wondering what it is.”

      “He wants you home? Okay. Go, but you better call me long before eight.”

      Willa was smart, the calm, sensible counterpart to Virginia’s adventurous nature. “Okay. I’ll call you after each leg of the trip.”

      “Each leg? Where the hell are you going?”

      “I think I might be headed to Hideaway Island.”

      * * *

      Carlos sat just outside his front door waiting to see if the interior designer actually showed up. He could have waited in his house for her, but curiosity about the woman he’d had the strangest conversation of his life with had driven him outdoors.

      He couldn’t remember the last time he’d just sat outside and let the sun beat down on his back. It had probably been the last time he was on the field, the same day he’d got hurt. He had spent so much of his life outside, smelling Astroturf, sweat and dirt, hearing thousands of fans cheer whenever he stepped up to bat. But it had all ended abruptly. Surgery, rehab, recovery. No fields, no fans, no career. It didn’t seem as if it made much sense for him to go outside anymore. But this morning the air-conditioning inside had become too much for him. The stuffy, too-chilled air had made him feel a little choked, so he’d escaped outside, sitting on the stone steps that led to his front door.

      He had to admit that the heat felt good, the sun felt good, and the air, even though it wasn’t dirt, sweat and grass scented the way he was used to, smelled sweet to him. Like ocean air. Like summer. He might still be sitting in his bedroom trying to block the sun out if it weren’t for his siblings and the crazy designer who didn’t believe he’d called her.

      He could have hung up, called around, hired somebody else who had a better résumé. It would have been a hell of a lot less trouble. But there was something about Virginia’s voice on the phone, something about her warm laughter that made him want to meet her. If for nothing more than to put a face to the woman who’d told him she wanted to squeeze his butt.

      People didn’t talk to him like that. At least, not to his face, and he found that intriguing.

      A black town car pulled up. Its windows were down, revealing the passenger in the backseat. Carlos couldn’t see her features clearly but he could see that her skin was just a shade lighter than milk chocolate and her hair was in wild thick curls.

      The car then came to a stop, the woman scrambling out before the driver could reach her. She was pretty. Beautiful, really, but in an earthy unglamorous way that he wasn’t used to. She wore a long, light pink dress with big flowers, and it bared her pretty shoulders and hugged her curvy body in all the right places. Her skin looked smooth and sun kissed. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Maybe someone older. Maybe someone more polished. Not a woman staring up at his house with eyes wide and her mouth open.

      He stood up, walking down the steps to meet her. She hadn’t seemed to notice him until that moment. Her eyes snapped to his face. Beautiful almond-shaped eyes with thick lashes. As he stepped closer he could see that her face was clean of makeup, her cheekbones were sharp, but her face wasn’t thin. Nice didn’t seem like a good enough word, but she was nice to look at. Like somebody he could spend hours observing and never get tired of the image.

      “Holy

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