Definitely, I need
something else to wear.
With a sudden desperate tug at her
heart she realized she didn’t have enough money to even buy
underwear in the shops they were passing, especially not a
dress.
“
I can’t afford these
shops,” Lucy said, grabbing hold of Luvici’s wrist as he jerked her
toward a boutique’s entrance.
Luvici rolled his eyes. “It’s on me,
kid.”
“
Thought you were broke?”
she groused, stopping in her tracks, hands on hips.
“
I can’t afford your little
blackmail scheme, but I can tote the bill for a dress.” He looked
down at Lucy’s shoes. “Maybe we can find something that will go
with those shoes.”
Maybe,
she thought as she followed Luvici into the boutique. Lucy had
to stop. She turned and breathed in the scents: designer clothes,
Italian leather, silk, Egyptian cotton. And all of it
new...
She suddenly felt a little light
headed.
“
Lucy!” Luvici shouted,
tearing her out of her reverie. “Get in here.”
He was holding open the door to a
changing room.
She stood there and just stared at the
big man.
“
Get in here and strip.” he
said. “I’ll pick something out.”
Lucy shook her head. There
was no way this overgrown slouch could pick out something pretty,
refined, and appropriate.
Just look at
Darla.
Luvici caught her by the arm and
shoved her into the five by five, mirror clad changing room. “How
are you going to pick me out something?”
Silence.
“
I mean, not that I’m
doubting your fashion sense,”
But, oh god I
am
.
Look at the way
you dress.
“You don’t even know what size I
am!”
Suddenly something flew over the
changing room door and dangled from Luvici’s meaty fingers until
Lucy finally reached out and took it. It was a dress, ivory colored
silk with a delicate pattern of exotic flowers. Gold thread was
woven into the fabric. And low and behold, it was her
size.
I hate that everyone seems
to know what size I am now!
But just touching the soft, soft silk,
and holding it up against her, looking in the full-length mirror in
front of her, she couldn’t deny the big oaf had incredible
taste.
“
Thanks...
Frank.”
“
You’re welcome. Now try it
on.” Lucy could hear him pacing outside the little room. “If we
hurry, we can get you manicured and your hair done... maybe some
demure makeup.”
Lucy had to agree. Her makeup was
overdone. She’d been aiming for sultry with a side of dangerous.
But that didn’t go well with the dress. And her hair and nails
really needed work.
He had a good eye.
“
And please tell me those
shoes match the dress.”
Lucy looked down at her
shoes and smiled. “Perfectly. Where did you get such a good eye?”
Then Lucy remembered that Luvici liked girls
and
guys. There had to be some
gay/bi-sexual fashion gene in there, somewhere.
There was a long silence, but just as
she started pulling off her top Luvici started talking.
“
I was going to be an art
major, in college.”
“
You’re an artist?” She
couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
“
Not good enough to be a
professional... but I really wanted to own a gallery someday.” She
heard him chuckle unhappily to himself. “But the family—my
father—insisted I go to law school.”
She recognized the edge to Luvici’s
voice. His father hadn’t approved of him, and it still cut him like
a knife. She could relate.
She slipped into the dress, easily
zipping herself up, then inspected her reflection in the panorama
of the mirrored walls. The dress was a knock out: elegant, yet
fresh and young.
Lucy came out into the store with a
flourish, turning in a grand gesture, smiling up at
Luvici.
“
Not bad.” He handed his
charge card to the rather intimidated looking sales
clerk.
Moments later he was ushering Lucy
into a small beauty parlor with oriental decor, and an all oriental
staff.
He walked right up to the gorgeous
woman standing behind the counter. Her hair was like black glass,
not a fly away or split end anywhere, and her skin was
flawless.
“
Ming Na… my friend here
needs a mani-pedi, a trim, style—maybe a twist—and makeup.” Luvici
gave the woman that raised eyebrow look Lucy already
hated.
“
Sure thing Luvici,” The
woman sounded like she hated that look too. “Why don’t you ever
bring in that secretary of yours? She needs a lot more work than
this one does.”
Luvici smiled. “I like Darla just the
way she is. Now can you hurry? We’ve got...” He looked down at his
watch. “Forty-five minutes.”
“
It’ll cost you, dog.” Lucy
almost didn’t catch the “dog” reference. She’d said it so
matter-of-factly. Lucy suddenly wondered how many women Luvici was
cavorting with. Or was he just that infamous?
The woman named Ming Na whisked Lucy
back to the sinks and scrubbed her hair with the most enticing
smelling shampoo. Exotic essences of flowers and fruit enveloped
Lucy’s senses. Then she ushered her into a salon chair, and as she
snipped away all of Lucy’s damaged ends, two other women started
work on her hands and feet.
“
No fake nails!” Lucy and
Luvici said simultaneously.
“
Just make them even, and
match the dress,” Luvici finished.
By the time they were done, her nails
and toenails shone a lovely pale pink, and her hair had been
flat-ironed to perfection. It was almost as glassy as her
hairdresser’s. Two minutes later Ming Na had washed and moisturized
her face, and was already making quick work of Lucy’s
makeup.
As she walked out of the salon, Lucy
had to admit, besides being ten pounds overweight, and wearing
designer rip off shoes, she’d possibly never looked so
good.
Finally,
Lucy sighed to herself with relief as she looked in the salon
mirror.
Mirrors love me again.
~*~
Walking into Caulderon’s, Lucy felt
more than good, she felt fabulous. She hadn’t felt pretty in a very
long time, and now she felt absolutely beautiful. No. She felt
stunning and gorgeous, and she knew without a doubt that every head
in the restaurant was turning to look at her.
She felt the self-confidence return to
her step. She suddenly felt powerful.
Luvici stopped at the maître d’s
podium, and after only a moment’s pause to take in Luvici, the
host’s face turned warm and inviting as he beckoned them into the
restaurant.
The place seemed larger to Lucy, now.
Even though she’d only been here once, she’d taken it all in with
an air of entitlement. Now, she knew that your life could be
changed, leveled to dirt and mud—and special sauce—so now she was
taking everything in with much more care, savoring the
moment.
But something in Lucy decided she
didn’t like the way she was feeling. An expensive dress, a quickie
salon experience and getting to enter a high priced eatery weren’t
things she had ever imagined she would be thankful for.
What’s wrong with
me?
Luckily, Lucy didn’t have time to
ponder this. In seconds the host had shown them to what was most
certainly the best table in the house. Center stage, two waiters
and two assistant waiters stood like sentinels, waiting to act on
their customer’s every command and wish.
Okay, this is
nice
, Lucy thought as one of the wait staff
pulled out her seat and then gently pushed it in once she sat
down.
Lucy was so taken with this formality
that she almost didn’t notice the two men who had stood to greet
her. They were still standing, looking down on her with matching
looks of mild irritation.
Lucy shot up out of her chair, and
thankfully didn’t knock anything over in her haste.
“
I’m so sorry,” Lucy said,
suddenly feeling clumsy and rude—though she wasn’t quite sure
why.
The older man spoke, extending his
hand, “Not at all.” It was creepy phone guy, a.k.a Mr. Enoch. “I’m
afraid I should be more… flexible. Regrettably, I’m old and set in
my ways. Please forgive me, Miss Hart.”
Okay, his voice may still be
kind of creepy.
She took his rather warm
hand,
but he really couldn’t be any more
handsome and ingratiating
. She could well
imagine him holding court with royalty, and she was sure he and
Shirley would get along perfectly.
She smiled to herself just thinking of
Shirley chatting him up on her bus. The idea was
preposterous.
Mr. Enoch released her hand, giving
her a tiny dip of his silver haired head in salute. Then he turned
to the other man at the table.
Wow!
Lucy thought, looking up into his handsome, dark featured
face. Dark chocolate brown eyes you could get lost in. His lips
were kissably thick, with just a touch of pink. And his bone
structure was perfect; Prince charming in the flesh. Not to mention
how his suit was tailored to hug his lithe body to utter
perfection. The chocolate and caramel in the suit only accentuated
his dark skin and hair.
Oh, and his eyes—drowning
deep.
Can’t get over those eyes.
But then she noticed the look on the
handsome younger man’s face. It was a look she’d never seen coming
from a man. Usually men looked at her with admiration and longing.
She was used to that. But this guy, he looked at her with clear
disdain. Lucy had never had a perfect stranger look at her with
such pure contempt.
“
This is my nephew, Gabriel
Enoch,” Mr. Enoch said, introducing them. “Gabriel, this is Lucy
Hart.”
Lucy beamed her brightest smile at
him, thinking that maybe he was uncertain of her, or that he was
just shy. She offered him her hand.
He looked at it as if he
didn’t know if her hand was clean enough to touch.
Obsessive
Compulsive
disorder?
There were no less than six kids
in her old school who had extreme cases of the illness. She almost
sighed with empathy. Those kids were a mess, and miserable as all
get out.
But then Gabriel Enoch reached out and
took her hand. He was hot. Not as in visually appealing, which he
was. His hand, his flesh, was hot to the touch. He shook her hand
and then suddenly let it go, looking at his own hand as if it had
been infected or something.
“
She won’t work,” he said to
Dante Enoch.
“
Gabriel?” The lawyer’s
voice was smooth as silk, but there was irritation there
too.
“
It won’t work. She’s so…”
He was glaring at Lucy with loathing.
“
She’s beautiful,” Dante
tried to finish for his nephew.
“
Shallow and greedy, I’d
say.”
Luvici cut in. “She comes from a good
family. That is what you were looking for.”
“
Not that good,” Gabriel
said. “Not if she’d do this for money.”
Both lawyers stood there with shocked
expressions on their faces. Gabriel turned to Dante. “I’m sorry,
Uncle, but I have things I need to take care of.”
Lucy knew she should have been hurt.
Any other girl in the world would have been pushed to tears by the
words that fell from Gabriel Enoch’s lips. But she wasn’t like any
of those girls. She’d already had every kind of degradation visited
upon her in the last six months. She needed this, no matter what
kind of jerk she had to work with.
Lucy blocked his escape by walking up
to him and laying one of her freshly manicured hands on his chest.
The gesture was intimate, as was the smile that she knew would
bring out her dimples. This made Gabriel gulp, which was good. It
meant she had his full attention.
“
I might be shallow and
greedy, and I may be the sort of girl that would do…” she gave him
a slow, dismissive up and down look, “this for money. But you need
this just as much as I do.”
He scoffed.
“
Come on, Gabe…” His eyes
flashed angrily at Lucy nicknaming him.
Interesting
. “What is it
anyways?”
“
What is what?”
Lucy noted how his irritated tone
suddenly shot down in volume.
“
Well, from your lack of an
accent, I’d say you don’t need a fiancée for immigration purposes,
so this all has to do with the object of your
affections.”
Gabriel scowled, anger glowing in his
gaze.
“
So what’s the what? Is your
family racist or something, so you can’t bring your non-Anglo Saxon
girlfriend home to meet the folks? Or…” Lucy laughed and rolled her
eyes. “I get it. I get it.” She sat down and took a sip of the ice
cold bubbling water that sat at her place setting. “I’m going to be
your beard.”