the work. At cheaper rates, too, without a referral service.”
She scanned the pages. Problems with the foundation on Janya’s cottage. Possible roof repair or replacement at Wanda’s. She looked up. “I had a leak patched over Wanda’s bathroom right after I moved in.”
“Stopgap measure. How many buckets does she have?”
She was reading again. “Outside wiring at Alice’s? And you really think there’s a problem with the well and the pump?”
“One of these days you’ll wake up and find it’s as dry as the Mojave at Happiness Key.”
“Man…” She shook her head. “What did you do to me, CJ?”
“What was the point of making long-term repairs when the whole place was going to be smashed flat and hauled away?”
The list was too depressing to contemplate. “I’m assuming you’re not volunteering to take on these projects yourself.”
He smiled, and she had to admit that the way the smile creased his cheeks and warmed his eyes was charm itself. “I don’t get my hands dirty, TK. You know that.”
CJ had called her TK from the moment he’d discovered her middle name was Katherine. They’d been a matched set. If they’d had kids, they could have used up the alphabet. She had never liked the nickname, but for a moment it made her feel like the old Tracy, the one with the sexy, generous husband other women envied. The one whose life had been simpler.
She pulled herself back to reality. Life was never simple.
“I bet you got your hands dirty at Victorville,” she said, folding the pages in half. “Or did you wheedle your way into an office job?”
“There were better wheedlers, so I started out washing pots and pans. Eventually they moved me to record keeping.”
“Because you promised somebody something.”
“What could I promise? I didn’t have anything left.”
She stuffed the pages in her pocket. “I’ve got to get going. Thanks. I suppose now I’ll have to look into all these repairs.”
“I put them in order of importance. Some can wait a good long time. I can supervise and make sure you’re not getting cheated. Edward has a slew of guys who work for him. I’ll get names.”
“No way. I’ll find somebody on my own. The only thing I know about Edward Statler is that you two were going into business together. I’d like to keep him far, far away from Happiness Key.”
He looked amused. “I’ll keep poking around, unless you don’t want me here. I owe you.”
“So you do. But, I’ll warn you, I don’t think that’s all there is to this.”
“I need something to do while I contemplate my navel, okay? You know how much I hate to sit still. So I’m killing two birds with one stone. I’m paying a debt to you, and I’m rethinking my life.”
That she didn’t buy. “You know what? I do know you. The moment you had all your limbs and a beating heart, you decided you were going to take over the world. I can’t believe you have anything to rethink, CJ, unless you’re planning how to make good use of this little mess you got yourself into.”
“If I could take over the world, TK, I’d lay it at your feet.”
She snatched the empty coffee cup out of his hand and plopped it on the counter. “You are such a con artist.” But even to her own ears, she sounded half-hearted.
“You don’t mind having me around? I’d like to work on house plans using the footprint of those old cottages. I can work up a development plan for you. Nobody else is going to bother. There’s nothing in it for them.”
She didn’t buy any of this. Still, while CJ was feeling philanthropic and even, possibly, sentimental, he might actually be of some use to her.
She gave a slight nod. “But you do anything even halfway bogus and you’re out of here.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Those boxers made my morning.”
She steeled herself. “Don’t count on ogling me again. From now on I’m sleeping in a flannel nightgown.”
“Not in this heat.” Smiling, he left the way he’d come.
Half bait shop, half gourmet grocery, Randall’s was as much a statement about the changing character of Palmetto Grove Key as a local hangout. Tracy liked to stop on the way into work, so she could rub shoulders with bare-chested good old boys snacking on pork rinds, or businessmen with Lincolns idling while they slipped in for a latte from Randall’s brand-new cappuccino machine. The lattes were out of her price range, and the pork rinds were loaded with sodium,