“No worries. My brother is fine, really.” She patted his arm.
His silver eyebrows hiked up for just a moment before he forced indifference across his face. “She was found, then?”
“She’s somewhere, sinking her claws into a richer man. My brother gives most of his money away to charity.”
“Ah,” he said noncommittally.
“Now, what about it?” Maria asked. “Do you have anything my friend and I can try on?”
“We shall see. Come this way.” Lucas eyeballed me. “You’re a size, what, eight in the United States?” he said in perfect English.
“Why, yes.” I was stunned.
“I have something for you to try.” He ushered me into a dressing room and asked me to wait. I could hear the two of them chatting. Gowns rustled as I imagined his long fingers filtering through them. “Maria, why have you stayed away so long? I missed you.”
“It couldn’t be helped, but now I’m back. To stay.”
“Fabulous. Here you go, I think you will like this one best, but knowing you, you’ll try them all. I’ll bring this gown to your friend.”
“Only one for her?” Maria asked.
“Ah bella, wait until you see it.” Gently, as if it were a baby made of lace, he handed the gown to me. He tugged the curtain closed with a loud scraping of hooks on a metal rod. “Call if you need any help fastening the back.”
After putting it on, I stood for a long moment staring at the mirror. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.
The pearl-colored chiffon flowed to the floor. The scooped neck bared the upper part of my shoulders. The dress plummeted lower than I really dared to go in the back, ending a few scant centimeters above the tip of my tailbone. It was fitted, but not grossly snug, across my hips. A slit traveled decadently up the right side to my thigh. The whole thing fastened together delicately by a single gold chain dangling down the length of my back. A handful of pearls elegantly finished off the chain, which dipped and swayed against me as I moved.
“Erin, what’s taking so long?” Maria poked her head into my dressing room. “Oh my God. Buy it. Buy it now.”
The closest I’d come recently to a night on the town was pizza delivery in Jack’s office. Not the sort of place where ball gowns were mandatory attire. I mentally wiped the slate clean.
Jack is the past. The new Erin, goddess in training, simply had to have the gown.
“So?” Maria asked impatiently.
“One question—does Lucas sell matching shoes?”
Maria clapped her hands together gleefully, “Of course.” Her chin tipped up proudly. “You have not lived until you’ve worn Spanish stilettos.”
“That’s what I want. To live in Spanish stilettos.”
Chapter Five
After making our purchases, we sat in an outdoor café in the Plaza Mayor and watched hundreds of people pass by. The Spanish people were attractive and well-groomed even when shopping in the heat of the summer. I smiled at a little boy who could not have been more than five skipping along at his mother’s side. His socks were color coordinated to his shorts and hat.
“Maria, how in the world could you trade this paradise for the fabric-walled cubicles at DH&L?”
She shrugged. “What can I say? Karma catches up with you sometimes and boots your fat ass to California.”
I snorted. “Fat? Ple-ease.”
“All right. Cute, perky, near-perfect ass.”
“Near-perfect?”
“I’ve got a mole.”
“Of course. So? Tell me about the karma part.”
Her hand swished through the air like she was batting a fly. “Long story.”
“I’ve got time.” I took a sip of my agua con gas.
“You forget, we’ve got a huge party tonight.”
“That’s hours away. You’re subject changing. What’s the story?”
“It’s not just long, it’s nasty. Who wants to put a damper on such a beautiful day?”
“Come on, you can’t mess up this day. Did you see the shoes I bought?” I lifted the tote bag. “I’ve died and gone to heaven. So spit it out, why did you spend five years in what I now see was the pit of hell?”
She frowned. “It’s not important. I’m here now, back where I belong. And I’m lucky to have such a great friend.”
My, my how she could redirect the conversation. “Yes, you are, however I am luckier. You rescued me from likely death by takeout and brought me to this romantic café.” I waved my hand at the view. “Our friendship would be perfect if you were a little fatter and uglier.”
“Perfect for you.” She playfully slapped my hand.
“Seriously Maria, you don’t have to be so strong, you know. You can talk to me about anything, remember?”
She stared at me a long moment, debating, chewing on her pink lip. “Five years ago I had this…it was…kind of like a…” her laughter was raspy, “…great big disastrous meltdown.”
I scooted closer to her. “What happened?”
She fell silent, unwilling, or unable, to go on.
“Why don’t you try me?” I gave her my best, encouraging smile. “I know my way around a meltdown or two.”
“I…I can’t,” she whispered. “It hurts.”
“It was a guy, wasn’t it?”
Her face fell, distorting before my eyes like a melting candle. She started fiddling with her things.
“Oh Maria, don’t go—”
“I can’t talk about this.” She snatched up all her bags and stood. “Bad memories are like rotting trash. Best to throw them out.”
dc
“Santiago used to laugh when I played ‘makeup’.” Maria applied the finishing touches of rouge on my cheeks. “This is fun. Kind of like having a sister.”
I smiled. “Better. All the fun, no one stealing my clothes.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I might rip that dress right off your body when you’re not looking. I like this thing—” she ran her hands down the slinky black satin clinging to her hips, “—but yours is the second-best dress Lucas ever made.”
“The first being the one he made for Santiago’s wedding?”
She nodded, a strange look rippling across her face.
“Well, sorry, sis. This one won’t fit you. If I could squeeze into your size two, and we took this one in a bit, I might want to trade next time.”
“If there is a next time. Santiago is a lot of things, but party animal he is not.” She nodded. “Okay Cinderella, stand up. Let’s have a look at you.” When I rose, she clapped her hand to her heart. “Simply gorgeous.”
“You too, my friend. You too.” After our conversation in the Plaza Mayor, I’d vowed to help Maria find a great guy. She deserved someone who could make her smile and had nice wide shoulders to lean on. Lord willing, Mr. Great would show up at the party tonight.
“Boy, if Jack could see you now,” she said.
“Shit, do I know a Jack?” I mimicked her, batting my mascara-thick eyelashes.
“Good attitude.”
“No, really, hardly thought of him at all.”
“No?” She cocked her head trying to read me, “Good. He doesn’t deserve a single thought. Sorry I brought him up.”
I took some deep breaths. No matter how brave I sounded, the nerves were voracious mice gnawing at my stomach. It had been a decade since I’d been to a non-working party.
I grabbed my Get a Life Journal and wrote: 3) Be the goddess. Be the goddess. Be the goddess. Then I added. And don’t go crazy.
“Hey, what’s that?” Maria asked from the doorway.
“Nothing.” I quickly shoved the journal in my drawer. “Ready to go?”
We glided down the winding stairwell. I have to admit, several heads did turn when we made our entrance. To my delight, the one head I wanted to spin looked straight at us.
“You both look gorgeous. Quiet everybody, please.” Santiago’s eloquent Spanish filled the air. “A toast to my sister, who ha
s come home at last, and to her American friend, Erin Carter. Rumor has it, gentlemen, these two beauties are unattached. If I were you, I would acquaint myself with them pronto.”
Laughter filled the hall, especially after Maria elbowed her brother in the ribs.
“Okay, okay.” Santiago laughed. “Now, we celebrate!”
The crowd cheered and the music began again. While we were getting ready, a crew had come in and moved all the sofas and chairs from the living room. The rugs had been rolled up and a square wooden dance floor brought in. The large formal table had been replaced by half a dozen round ones, each covered with light pink tablecloths, Maria’s favorite color. Several bouquets of pink roses and lilies mixed with white gardenias had been scattered around the house. Candles and luminaries lit up the inside while strands of twinkling lights were draped across the balcony. Tuxedoed bartenders manned two long rectangular bars. Another table was covered with a divine spread including jumbo shrimps, dips and cheeses.
When it came to a party, Santiago didn’t mess around.
Maria was quickly whisked away to dance. I wasn’t alone for long. Like bashful barracudas the gentlemen encircled me, slowly coming in for the kill. When I proved able to converse in their native tongue, the dance proposals flooded in one after the other. The Spanish gentlemen eyed me eagerly, curious about the new chica who knew her moves.
I was thrilled. Dancing has always been one of my passions. While the other girls in my college dormitory spent their free time at the gym, I learned ballroom, swing, jazz and salsa.
I enjoyed the attention, was flattered by their smiles and wolfish grins, but my thoughts kept drifting toward the dark-haired man with dreamy emerald eyes. Every now and then, I would sneak glances his way. He was spending most of his time with a redheaded beauty.
Helena.
I scrutinized the way they conversed with the eye of a jealous lover. Helena was a chatterbox. Even on the dance floor, she wouldn’t shut up. Man, with a chance to wrap her arms around that hunky guy, she chose to yap instead? What was she thinking?
More than once Santiago’s gaze swung my way. And when he smiled at me? Oh Lordy, how that man could make my legs weak.
“I beg your pardon?” I asked, realizing I was not paying attention to the four men talking to me. “No, thank you, I have some champagne right here.” I reached behind me and retrieved my glass from the table and took a sip.
Mmm, champagne, my favorite, and not some cheap brand either. The lord of the manor sure knows how to throw a swanky party.
I took another sip. While pretending to be immersed in the group conversation, my eyes wandered again.
Uh-oh. Santiago and Helena were no longer on the dance floor.
Maria was, though, right in the in the middle, gyrating like crazy. The band was playing an old B-52 favorite, “Rock Lobster”, and Maria was dancing with two—no, make it three handsome men. The bun I had so fastidiously worked into place had come loose. Her black hair was swinging wildly about her head as her feet pranced to the fast beat. I smiled. Good for her. With any luck, Mr. Great was one of the three. Oh heck, make it all three.
Helena wandered off to speak with an acquaintance. Santiago moved off the dance floor.
“Hey, bro,” Maria called to him. “Great party.”
He smiled at her. “Looks like you’re having fun.”
“These three hunks?” She winked at the men she was dancing with. “Nobody moves a girl like a Spanish man.”
He grimaced. “Never say stuff like that to your brother.”
She turned to the men. “Can you get me something to drink?”
Santiago shook his head as all three men fast-walked to be the first to the bar. “Disgusting. I used to like those guys.”
“Ah, don’t fault them. They missed me. So? What do you think of my friend?”
“Erin? Uh, Carter?”
He didn’t like her knowing smile. “Yep. The one you’ve been making goo-goo eyes at all evening. Why don’t you ask her to dance?”
His face warmed. “She’s a little out of my league. Have you seen her out there?”
Maria snorted. “Oh, please. Who watched Dirty Dancing seven times?”
“It was six. And stop smiling at me.”
Her smile got bigger. “I knew you would like her. So what’s the problem? Go for it, Swayze.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Didn’t you say she has issues?”
“Don’t we all?”
He crossed his arms and gave her a look.
She patted his shoulder. “Relax, she has teensy-weensy run-of-the-mill problems. And she’s only staying for a short time, why don’t you have some fun for a change?”
His mind couldn’t stop replaying past history. Whenever he let his guard down, the worst always happened. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t save any of the women he loved. He wasn’t strong enough. “Fun?”
“Yeah, you know what that is, don’t you?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s certainly not dating a woman with—” He stopped short of saying, emotional problems.
“What?” Maria asked.
“With all the women here. Why limit myself? You haven’t.” He nodded at the three men pushing through the crowds toward them, bumping into each other to be first to Maria’s side. Each was carrying two glasses of champagne.
“True. As long as you’re happy.” Her wink was wicked. “Oh, good. Erin’s having fun too. And so is Raúl.”
Erin was dancing with Santiago’s childhood friend. Raúl had a stupid grin on his face and his hands were heading too far south down Erin’s back. Santiago had the sudden desire to punch the daylights out of Raúl.
“Sorry, sis. I’ve got to—”
Raúl’s damn hands slipped further. Against his better judgment, Santiago raced across the dance floor to rescue another woman he had no business saving.
“May I cut in?” Santiago’s voice came up behind me, sending electric fingers up my spine.
Thank God. I had just moved my dance partner’s hands off my ass for the fifth time. “Absolutely. Gracias, um, Raúl?” The man gave me a lecherous smile and moved off the dance floor.
I put my hands on Santiago’s shoulders. A shiver of delight sparked through me when his hands rested on my waist.
“I’ve been watching you,” he said.
“You have?” I squeaked.
“You’re a great dancer.”
“Oh. That. Well, you’re no slouch yourself,” I teased, forcing my voice back to normal. “I’ve been watching you too.”
He grinned. “Shall we show the others how it’s done?”
He took my hand, twirling me under his arm. We danced one song, and then another, moving effortlessly from swing to salsa. His hips were poetry in motion, his long fingers hooking mine like a dream. He was good, really good, and together we sizzled. He was so smooth, so elegant, so…sexy.
I let go of my inhibitions and our movements went from innocent to the R-rated version, dipping closer and closer to X. It was exhilarating and, as Maria would say, h-o-t. When the rumba started, his hands slid further down until his thumbs rested on my hipbones. My pelvis swiveled under his fingers. I had the crazy desire to slide his hands lower, lower, until he caressed my…
When a few onlookers clapped, Santiago’s cheeks colored. “Would you like to rest?”
Um, not exactly what I wanted to do at the moment. “Sure.”
We sat at a small table a few feet off the floor and watched the others dance. I gloated. None of them could cut the rug nearly as well as we did.
A large open-mouthed vase filled with floating pink candles sat in the middle of the table between us. Candlelight glowed in his eyes. I toyed with the base of my champagne flute, trying to control myself. Somehow simple things, like breathing, were more difficult when he looked at me like that.
Serena was shocked and thrilled to find herself at some sort of a ball. Wandering through the crowd, she searched for
familiar faces. She did not recognize a soul. The music was so loud it hurt her ears and reverberated through her entire body. When she put up her hands to block the sound, she bumped a man carrying a silver tray loaded with food morsels.
“Perdón,” she said.
The man did not answer and the tray did not waver. Strange, he acted as if he hadn’t seen her at all.
Erin sat at a round table gazing lovingly into the face of a handsome nobleman.
Ah, he is her love. Serena made her way to Erin’s side.
“You worked with Maria?” Santiago asked.
“I am…was…am a stockbroker.” I laughed. “It’s a little confusing right now. I’m taking a break from it all.” I sat back. “Call it a vacation.”
“Ah,” was his polite answer. He probably suspected I’d been canned. I let him think whatever he wanted. Somehow being fired from my job would have been better than losing my mind, heart, and soul to it.
“It’s a difficult business, especially for a woman.”
My hackles rose. “For a woman?”
His eyebrows rose to match my tone. “It’s not?”
“It’s a hard business for many. A woman dedicated to succeeding in her career can handle it just fine.”
“You’re a career woman.”
“I most certainly am—hey, watch out!” A fist to my shoulder blade rudely cut off my thoughts. Spinning around in my chair, I was ready to scream at the brute who had the audacity to sock a woman in the back. Oddly, no one was there.
Dear God, I’m imagining things?
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Facing him again, my hackles had gone down, replaced by goose bumps all over my skin. “Did you see who hit me in the—?” I closed my mouth.
His dark eyebrows hitched up in confusion.
No, I scolded myself, Stick to Plan 3 in my Get a Life Journal—don’t go crazy.
“Nothing.” The old fight to stand up for myself and my gender was gone. I sighed. “To answer your question, I’m trying to be all right. Sometimes…it’s hard.”
Catch Me in Castile Page 6
