Page 41 of Love Overboard
Silence.
Gerry and Althea averted their gazes.
Daisy blinked twice. She placed her oversize sunglasses on her trim nose and rose from the table. “I’m a bit tired. Perhaps I’ll lie down for a spell.”
She glided away, and tension took her place. The distant noise of children playing in the pool accentuated the awkwardness. Emily brushed at a loose thread on her shirt.
Althea crossed her arms in front of her generous bosom. “You’re going to apologize for that, right?”
Emily deflated. “I’m sorry. This case has got me all twisted. I’ll be sure to make it right with Daisy.” She leaned back and glared at the bright Mexican sky. “Lord, why won’t Lacey cooperate? Did you have to put so much stubborn in that girl?”
“Takes one to know one,” said Gerry.
Emily cut her eyes over, but her friend’s face hid behind the usual romance novel. No use denying the statement. Once she accepted a mission, it was full speed ahead. Emily prided herself on her stick-to-itiveness. But her impatience was another story, a chronic flaw that caused her to hurt the people she loved.
The chair legs scraped against the deck floor as she stood. “At least one of you stay here and report when Lacey returns. If you get tired, call me, and I’ll relieve you. I need to find Daisy.”
Althea grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Try the art gallery. She wanders around there when she’s upset.”
Emily left them on guard duty. She wanted to race down the gangplank and keep tabs on Lacey. But friendship was more important than matchmaking. Time to do something she had plenty of practice at—apologizing.
CHAPTER 18
LACEY AVERAGED A COMPLIMENT Aminute from her date during dinner. He declared her hair shone in the candlelight. The color of her outfit made her skin glow. Every man in the room wished she were at his table. One thing was certain, Ricardo knew how to treat a lady.
Saturated with praise, Lacey floated out of the restaurant. Almost. Her screaming toes kept intruding on the fantasy.
She tried not to hobble as she walked, her purse and flower bouquet clutched in her arms. Her attentive date pointed out local landmarks and made her laugh with funny stories of his restaurant-owner friend and himself. They wandered through the city streets without a set destination. Exuberant mariachi music floated out of a café, and locals and tourists bustled around in a talkative, noisy herd. The sweet smell of fresh-cooked churros wafted from a vendor’s cart.
Lacey pointed at the sugar-coated sticks. “How about I buy us dessert?”
“I would lo—” Ricardo froze when he saw the time on a large neon clock in a store window. “Is it eight?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Ricardo smacked his forehead. “This is when I am supposed to be in the kitchen. We must go.”
He grabbed her wrist and towed her down the sidewalk. They stopped at a four-way intersection, but all the taxis were taken. The traffic light shone red. No cars crossed in front of them.
Ricardo muttered in Spanish and tapped his phone against his leg. He looked from right to left and thrust a finger at the other side of the road. “Go now.” He jetted into the street without waiting for a response.
Lacey hurried to follow. She tripped off the curb, and her right heel caught in the wide hem of her pantsuit. Her arms flailed as her body propelled forward. Her left knee hit the hard pavement, followed by her hand. The roses scattered on the asphalt. Her skinny purse flung open, and the contents spilled across the street. A tube of lipstick rolled past her nose.
Ricardo raced to her. “Are you hurt?Pobrecita.”
He reached down, and Lacey scrambled to retrieve her things, ignoring the throb in her left knee. The humiliation hurt worse. She didn’t dare make eye contact with the drivers waiting at the stoplight, sure they were laughing at the spectacle.
“I’m fine.” She shoved the items in her purse and staggered to her feet.
It wasn’t really a lie. Shewasfine, compared with starving people in impoverished countries. Tripping in her high heels on the way to a luxury cruise ship was a first world problem.
Ricardo took her by the elbow. “Let me help you. These terrible streets. Why don’t they time their traffic lights better?”
He helped her onto the sidewalk. Lacey dared a quick glance at the cars and met a familiar pair of eyes as she scanned the road. Jon stood on the opposite corner, a blank expression on his face.
“Of course,” Lacey murmured.
“What did you say?” Ricardo asked.
