Read I Want Candy for Free Online Page B

miserably. “What an unusual but wonderful name!”
    “Right,” he said, picking up the phone and dialing a few numbers. He turned away, his shoulder to Candy. “Mrs. Carmichael, you have a visitor at the front desk. You weren’t scheduled for anyone, so if you’d like I’ll ask her to—” Gerrall stopped. He turned and frowned at Candy again, then let his eyes roam from her forehead to her shoes, with another brief derailment occurring at her boobs. “Yeah,” he said into the phone. “That would be her. Okay, Mrs. Carmichael.”
    Gerrall—no d —hung up and pointed to an uncomfortable-looking settee in front of the bay window. “Have a seat. She’ll be out in a minute. But it’s almost lunchtime, so I can’t promise she’ll be much interested in visiting.”
    Candy didn’t understand that bit about lunch, but nodded anyway. “Great. Thank you.”
    She was so nervous that her tummy felt like it was home to several dozen butterflies and small birds, all crashing around in the tight quarters. She sat down on the sofa and pressed her knees together, comforted by the feel of Sophie stuck to the inside of her left thigh. She began looking around the place. Dusty rose carpet. Muted striped wallpaper. Real crystal chandeliers. Fresh flowers. Oil paintings of sun-dappled landscapes that had to be straight from the starving artists’ sale in the Howard Johnson’s ballroom.
    She tried to smile at the sour and pimply Gerrall, who continued to glare at her over the raised reception desk, when it dawned on her— Kid Rock. Gerrall looked like a young Kid Rock after a shave, shampoo, and cut. But not a good cut.
    His glare darkened.
    Wasn’t it the same everywhere? she thought. A dorky dude who’s accustomed to lurking near the bottom of the food chain gets a hold of a little power and gets drunk with it. Not on the list . Of course she wasn’t on any damn list! That would mean she had advance permission to show up here, that her mother was actually looking forward to her visit.
    Maybe she should have just stayed with Viv. She could probably find a way to live with the pimping and the poking around in her love life. Or, maybe she could move back with Gladys! Hell! Now that she thought about it, the old lady could have her underwear. In the scheme of things, would it really matter all that much?
    “Is there a problem?”
    A rotund, middle-aged man stuffed into a suit and tie came around the corner and hovered near the reception desk. His question was for Gerrall but his eyes were on Candy. She stood up.
    “She says she’s Jacinta’s daughter,” Gerrall whispered.
    “I see.”
    The man blinked with annoyance and took a few steps toward Candy. She could smell his aftershave from twenty feet. His thinning and too-long black hair was slicked back away from his ruddy face.
    “Wainright Miller, here. Executive director of Cherokee Pines.”
    “Oh, hey, Mr. Miller.” Candace held out her hand and smiled. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m—”
    “Candace!”
    Jacinta swept into the foyer with a sense of purpose, the sleeves of her Hawaiian-print caftan drifting behind her like flags in the wind. The first thing Candy noticed about her mother was that she didn’t look a day older than the last time she’d seen her, which was well over five years ago. Her hair was still a blond bouffant, her blush still applied with a spatula. The next thing Candy noticed was the scowl in her eyes.
    Mr. Miller stepped aside as Jacinta approached.
    “How nice to see you, dear,” she said, coming to an eye-to-eye halt before her only child, her hands on her hips. “I’m assuming you’re here to return my nest egg plus the ten percent interest you promised.”
    Before Candy could open her mouth to produce an answer, a series of digital beeps rang out from an intercom system and a gaggle of senior citizens appeared out of nowhere, rushing toward the open double doors across the lobby.
    Jacinta’s head spun around and she sighed