Operation Burlesque BBW Romance (22 page)

She wouldn’t let me get off so easily, which is how I ended up doing several morning show interviews. I drew the line at a movie script though, and I refused to even acknowledge the idea of a Broadway musical.

At least we made some good money off the interview circuit. Enough that we didn’t have any immediate financial concerns. Lilli herded me through it all, carefully fussing over my clothes and make-up and running interference with the news shows’ producers. She fielded most of the questions, making it so all I had to do was agree with her. I appreciated the small mercy, grateful that I had a mother hen. Even if she wore glitter.

Yes, the first thing Lilli did was buy all new make-up and a wardrobe that made Liberace jealous from beyond the grave. She’d been through hell and I didn’t blame her for wanting to look like she came through the other side better than before. I just didn’t have the heart to join her in the triumphant homecoming.

See also: The previous bit about how my heart was back in Morocco, buried somewhere in the rubble of a bombed out building.

I thought of Blake constantly. I dreamed of him. I saw him in the edge of a random stranger’s jaw or the flicker of heat dancing in the darkness of their eyes. Once, I followed a man for several blocks, convinced he might be Blake, hoping he wasn’t really dead.

I was always wrong.

After a week in New York, Lilli flew us out to Los Angeles, thinking to revert to our original plan to design and produce a new burlesque show. Her knee was still healing from surgery and she needed a few months of therapy before she could perform again. In LA we could work on the new show while she worked on her knee.

She paid someone to drive the RV from where it had been abandoned deep in the heartland out to California. We took up residence on the beach, brainstorming the new show and drinking a lot of margaritas.

Or rather,
Lilli
brainstormed while I doodled in my sketch pad and drank too much.

She made phone calls, looked at venues, reviewed music and roughed out choreography. Somehow, whereas I came back deflated as a sad little donut tire, Lilli returned reborn and charged with enough energy to seize the world and shake it up.

I couldn’t keep up.

Worse, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

But there was no stopping Lilli.

“So, is that a…umm..mermaid?” Her tone was mild, but didn’t completely mask a thin thread of frustration in her upper register. I was supposed to be drawing bird costumes.

“Sorry, I was daydreaming.” Flustered I closed the sketchbook and made to retreat to the beach. I would sit out there for hours watching the horizon as if hypnotized. Maybe that’s where the mermaid came from, some half-baked hallucination.

Lilli put a hand on my shoulder. “Take your time, Ruby.”

A flush burned up my cheeks. “You don’t have to wait on me, Lil.” I loved her too much to hold her back. I could rent a place somewhere and burrow there until…what exactly I couldn’t say.
Something
.

She shook her head and sat next to me on the little sofa inside her RV. Today she wore a turquoise bathing suit cover-up, underneath was her customary black bathing suit…blinged out like a disco ball on steroids, naturally. When she took off the cover-up, the sun cast rainbows all around her as the crystals on her suit fractured the light. To complete her look, her nails, both hands and feet, were a perfect pink and she’d elaborately curled her hair like a black-and-white movie starlet.

Clearing her throat, Lilli said, “Costumes are a second skin, a soul you try on and breathe life into. These costumes need to be special, they need to be more than fabric. You’re the only one I trust to do that.” Lilli leaned forward and patted my knee. “Take your time. We don’t have a production schedule.”

“But for how long?” I asked her, frustrated myself now. I didn’t want her to wait for me to catch up. I didn’t think I could. Sooner or later there would be dates and deadlines and where would I be? On the beach drawing mermaids?

“As long as you need, Ruby. As long as you need.” She stood up. “I’m going to make margaritas. You want one?”

I shrugged, which she took as assent. Watching her prep the blender, I asked, “You told me he was worth it. You still think that?”

She froze and then looked at me, her gaze probing. “It’s not what I think, it’s what you
feel.
Was he worth it?” When I didn’t answer right away, she busied herself with margarita making. When the drinks were poured, she handed me a glass and prompted, “Well?”

I sighed, still conflicted. Finally I said, “It just hurts so bad.”

“So if it hurts, he wasn’t worth it?” She settled back into the couch, one leg tucked under her looking every inch the 1940s glamazon.

I shook my head, “No, but--”

She cut me off, “There’s no but. It’s a yes or no question.”

“He was worth it,” I whispered. And then I started to cry because he was dead and the whole time I was with him, all I had wanted to do was leave. Lilli wrapped her arms around me and rocked me back and forth. She didn’t talk, just held me while I sobbed.

When I finally calmed down, she spoke. “You know, I got hurt too and it was worth it.” She swept my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear, rocking me with my head on her shoulder the way a mother soothes a baby. “You know why?”

I sniffed and shook my head, confused. She’d had all the violence without the romance. Frankie had worked her over like a punching bag. The bruising on her stomach had taken weeks to heal. What could possibly make that a good thing?

“Because I know I’m alive.” She tightened her arms around me. “I know I
want
to be alive. I know I’m strong, that I can survive and that is a gift you can’t buy at the mall.”

I sniffed and wiped my eyes, trying to regain control of myself.

“You survived, Ruby. Just like me. I’m not going to let you waste it.” She gave me a little shake. “You’re going to put on your big girl panties and make some fantabulous costumes. We are going to burlesque like burlesque has never burlesqued before.”

“In a peacock outfit,” I said, smiling. The plumage alone in my sketches made me wonder if the over-the-top costumes would actually be capable of flight. There were no half-measures with Lilli. It was either
all
the feathers or none.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She pretended to be offended.

“It is a lot of feathers.” I was pretty sure we were going to break world records in the ‘number of plumes used in a costume’ category.

“Well,” she said primly. “In my experience, more is what makes a life.”

More. I contemplated the word. Such an odd way to look at things, but Lilli didn’t see the world in a linear way. She didn’t see black-and-white either, but rather rainbow. Maybe instead of dwelling on everything I’d lost, I should look for what more I wanted to add in. The simple, yet positive thought lightened the load on my shoulders.

“Thanks, Lil.” I broke our hug and stood up. “I think that’s what I needed to hear. I’m going to go out to the beach and sketch, okay?”

“Working on a costume, yes?”

I nodded as I gathered up my sketchbook and pencils. “The quetzal. I’m going to finish it today.”

She clapped her hands and bounced happily in her seat. “Yay. Go, Ruby go.”

Chapter Twenty

The quetzal was a beautiful bird often referred to as ‘resplendent.’ I crafted a costume with a burgundy corset made out of painted aluminum. Bird experts also described the plumage color as ‘metallic’ so I used that to inspire material choice. It would be my first time incorporating such a large metal piece into a costume. The rest of the costume would be a mix of green feathers covered with sequins and jewels. Over that, the dancers would wear my version of traditional Mayan dress since the ancient Maya had held the Quetzal sacred. Lilli had already picked out an interesting music track blending techno club tracks with traditional Guatemalan music. The act wasn’t a striptease per se, but a metaphor for freedom, for unshackling our wings and allowing ourselves to soar.

Which is why there would be wires to lift the performers up into the air. That added a whole new layer of complexity to the costume design and I had to make several sketches to balance the need for safety and the needs of the performance.

The beach was quiet and the ocean moved in a gentle swaying motion. I worked for several hours while I soaked up the heat from the sun and the calm of the scenery around me. It was the most at peace I’d felt in weeks.

Trust Lilli to set me straight.

When my neck began to kink from hunching over my sketch pad, I called it quits. A smile on my face, a lightness in my step I headed back to the RV, my pace slowing as I saw what waited there.

A limo.

Another damned limo.

This couldn’t be good.

Holding my sketch pad across my chest like a shield, I headed for the RV. My heart thumped against my ribs and I calmed myself by listing all the ways that limo was so not about me. No one knew we were here. We’d purposely kept our location a secret just to be safe. Ferrid or Frankie might still be out there and I had no desire to meet either of them again. More importantly, I wasn’t famous, wasn’t somebody people would send a limo for..

Maybe it was some famous fancy pants who wanted to go to the beach. A rock star with a drinking problem and a suspended license would be just the type to use a limo, right? Sounded good to me.

I made my way up to the front door of the RV, ignoring the limo and refusing to make eye contact with the driver. As my hand pulled on the door handle, a voice behind me said, “Miss Palmer?”

A chill went up my spine. This was how Morocco had started. I turned around and faced the limo driver. He looked friendly enough, his silver hair and light blue eyes spoke of age and wisdom. He had a grandfatherly air to him, like he would buy me ice cream and read me a story. The last limo driver had been okay, too. It had been the people that came after who’d been a problem.

I relaxed a fraction of an inch. “Yes?”

“I have a message for you.” He reached into the breast pocket of his black suit jacket and extended an envelope toward me.

I blinked and then blinked again. The déjà vu was so strong it made me dizzy.

“Miss?” He took a step forward and lifted the envelope higher.

I took the envelope and gingerly opened it. Inside the RV, Lilli called for me, “Ruby?”

“Just a sec,” I hollered. I unfolded the letter and then gasped, staggering back to lean against the RV door. My heart bungee jumped from my rib cage down into my stomach and then snapped back in place with an audible, life changing thump.

Ruby,

Will you come meet me?

-Blake

I rubbed my eyes and then read the note again. I tried squinting when the words stayed the same. It didn’t work.

“This isn’t real.” I dropped the note as if it had burned me and pressed my back against the RV door.

“He thought you might say that.” The driver gave me a kind smile and pulled another envelope out of his jacket.

This time the note said:

You’ll be safe. I promise. Just come. I’ve missed you.

-Blake

I dropped that one, too. By then, Lilli had grown curious, and tried to open the door to see what was going on. She pushed against my back and I reluctantly stepped onto the parking lot asphalt.

“What’s going on?” She frowned at the limo driver and then looked at me, curiosity lighting her eyes.

I pointed to the notes which she scooped up and read. “What the hell?”

“Yeah, what the hell?” I crossed my arms.

She looked up from the note and frowned. “Well, what are you going to do?”

I studied the driver who regarded me with his steady blue eyes. “You know where he is?”

He tipped his head slightly in assent. “He moves a lot, but I know where he is for the next few hours.”

That was long enough for what I had in mind. “Do you have a pen?”

He nodded and handed one over. I scrawled a quick message on the back of Blake’s first note.

You know where I am. Come and get me. I don’t accept rides from strangers.

-Ruby

“Take it to him.” I folded the paper and put it back in its envelope. Feeling bold, I went up to the driver and pulled his jacket open. I kind of wanted to know if there were any other notes, but his pocket was empty. Stuffing my note into his jacket, I let the fabric fall back into place and gave the man a little pat on the chest.

The driver tipped his hat and returned to his limo. The sleek vehicle smoothly drove away.

“What did you do that for?” Lilli looked confused.

“So we have time to run,” I said. “We don’t know who it is or what they really want. Blake is dead, Lil. Dead. You saw the explosion same as I did. He’s gone. Whoever is behind that note is playing a sick game.” My stomach sank as I thought of who would do such a thing. “It could be Ferrid. Or Frankie.”

“Oh shit.” Lilli sagged against the door same as I had just a few minutes earlier. “I didn’t even think of that.”