Page 4 of Tormented Bastard
He brightened. “Really? Who is it?”
“Chase Hanover. Know him?”
Chance threw back his head and laughed. “Hollywood Hanover? The asshole only owns half the island. But he’s a friend of mine. We work together occasionally.”
Okay. Everything that just came out of this man’s mouth had me confused. I blinked and held up a hand. “Hold on. He owns half the island? And what kind of work do you do?”
Chance smiled. “Me? Well, I kind of do odds and ends things. Make recycled art, a few other things. But I’m handy around houses, so when I’m here, I help Hollywood keep up with his properties.” He gestured behind me. “Becky’s ready for you, love.”
I turned around and found the barista, Becky, waiting for my order. “Oh, um. I’d like a large vanilla latte, extra hot, triple shot.”
“Sure thing.”
“Becky, add Eden’s to my order, and I’ll take my usual.”
The young girl nodded. “Sure thing.”
Before I could protest to this stranger generously paying for my coffee, it was rung up and paid for, and Chance was moving me to the designated waiting area.
I smiled at him. “Thank you for that. You didn’t have to buy my coffee.”
He shrugged with a grin. “No big deal. It’s just a coffee.”
“So, do you happen to know where Chase is right now?”
“Sure. He’s probably at one of his properties getting it storm ready.” He tilted his head. “How long have you and Hollywood been friends?”
Was I the only one who called him by his actual name? “Since college.”
“Ah, college sweethearts?”
“Something like that,” I muttered.
His eyes widened, then crinkled when he smiled. “And the plot thickens.”
Before I could ask what he meant, our names were called. After we thanked the barista, we walked outside and toward the parking lot.
I changed the subject before he could ask more questions. I was here for business. Nothing personal to see here.
“So, can you give me directions to his place?”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll take you there myself.”
He walked toward the pickup truck a couple of spaces over from my SUV.
“Is that a goat?” I walked closer and peered at it. “With a collar?”
“Of course. Pixy is family.”
I suppose there were stranger pets in this world than a goat. “Right. Okay then. I’ll follow you?”
He waved as he tossed something to the goat to eat and then slid into the cab of his truck. I rolled my eyes and got into my rental.
As I followed Chance through town, I noticed there wasn’t a chain store to be had. Eventually, the small-town shops and establishments gave way to beach houses and rows of townhouses. No high-rise condo towers for Sandy Seas. The highest things around were the numerous houses on stilts to prevent flooding.
The farther we drove, the farther apart the houses became until we reached a dead end to the road. Chance took a left and then another quick left onto a street with just a handful or so houses on either side. To my right, the Gulf of Mexico stretched out in all its turquoise beauty. The waves were small and tranquil looking.
But looks could be deceiving. I may not have lived in Florida in ten years, but I knew smooth seas were just the calm before the storm. The wind had picked up a little, and the skies were still blue, but I was taking my chances, no doubt about it. As soon as I got what I needed from Chase—a yes to my request—my ass was on the next plane back to New York. As long as I made it across the bridge before the wind got a lot worse, I was good to go.
