Not in the best of moods after being rebuffed and called nuts all morning, she snatched up the phone and growled, “Hetta’s Hell.” I stuck my tongue out at her and continued working on my computer until I heard her coo, “So, Captain Fabio, you are available?” I mouthed, “Fabio? You’ve got to be kidding.” Jan frowned and motioned for me to cut the crap. She listened a minute or two and gave me a thumbs-up. “Uh, can you hold a minute?” She cushioned the phone against her sweatshirt. “Hetta, I got a hot one.” “How did he get our number?” “Who cares? He’s available.” “Tell him to fax his credentials. Where is he?” “Ensenada.” I did a little victory dance while Jan gave Captain Fabio my fax number. When she hung up, I mixed a couple of mimosas to celebrate and while we quaffed our drinks, we reveled in how much we would relish telling the Jenkins brothers we have engaged a guy named Fabio as our boat captain.
