I hate feeling vulnerable and sad, but I’m in danger of losing the best guy I’ve ever met. I love Harrison. The realization nearly knocks me to the floor with despair. What if he doesn’t love me back?
My iPhone pings with a text from Chloe: Your trophy date awaits you, sir.
I have to get going. If I don’t move fast I’ll be late for my event. On the way there, I’ll pick Chloe’s brain and she’ll give me advice on Harrison.
I text Vinny and remind him to put Chloe’s name on the list in my place. He already knows she’ll be arriving with her date, Camilo Ortiz, a multi-millionaire businessman from Brazil.
On the taxi ride over, I tell Chloe, “I’m worried about Harrison.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, he’s been acting aloof lately compared to last week when he was doting on me.”
“Hmm.” She pauses a moment to mull it over. “Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know.” I take a deep breath. “Chloe, you never told me about Harrison’s ex. What is she like?”
“Um.” I get a weird vibe from the way she looks at me, as if she’s uneasy answering my question. “Why do you want to know?”
“I’m curious about her and why they broke up.”
She shifts on the leather seat and bites her lower lip. I’m beginning to wonder about the way she’s avoiding my gaze. “Did Harrison tell you that his ex is meeting him at the Grand Canyon?”
Chloe’s question floors me. I am utterly flabbergasted. “What? No, he didn’t mention anything about her! Is she meeting him there?” Please, Chloe, say he’s not. Say he told her he’s not interested anymore.
Chloe meets my probing gaze with a troubled look. “I’m not sure, Frankie. All I know is that she called him and they were discussing it.”
My heart plummets into my belly like a lead ball. “What did he say when he hung up with her? You did ask him about it, didn’t you?”
This can’t be happening. Why was I was so smug about Harrison being only interested in me? Here I was mistakenly worrying about his attraction to Fizzy, but I never imagined he’d still be in touch with his ex, let alone planning a trip to meet her.
“I asked him, Frankie, but he shrugged and said, ‘maybe’.”
“Maybe? What does that mean? Is that all he said? I hate when he says maybe!” I say vehemently. “I thought he was over his ex.”
“So did I.”
“What is she like?” My mind races with a million questions as my heart feels like it’s shattering. “Is she pretty?” I hate asking, but I want to know my competition!
Chloe shrugs. “She’s cute, I guess. I only met her once over the Christmas holidays. She’s the outdoorsy type—crunchy granola all the way down to her Birkenstocks.”
“What does she do?” I feel like I’m pulling every answer from Chloe. This isn’t like her.
“She’s a vet like Harrison and she loves extreme sports,” Chloe says, looking as worried as I am.
“Like Harrison,” I wail. “What’s her name, anyway?”
“Daphne.”
“Daphne,” I repeat dully. “Might as well be Delilah. I wonder if she’s his weakness.” A dark cloud of gloom settles over me and I can’t seem to shake it.
“How serious were they? I mean were they engaged?”
“No, but they were living together.”
“Do you know why they broke up?”
Chloe’s brow creases as she mulls it over. “I’m not sure. Harrison is a closed book about his love life. I think it had something to do with him wanting to relocate to Miami and she didn’t.”
“Didn’t they try to work it out?”
“I don’t know details, Frankie. If I did, I’d tell you.” Chloe gives a troubled sigh. “It seemed complicated and he never elaborated. I wish I knew more, but…” She doesn’t finish because the taxi pulls up to Lucky Strikes and we have to get out.
I think I’m going to be sick.
Romeo: Rrrrufff! Lady, why did you keep me away from my main man, Harrison? If I wasn’t still mellow over my tryst with Coquette, I’d be snarling mad.
No wonder Harrison couldn’t stop laughing. I never figured Francesca for a cross dresser. If she was trying to dress like a guy, she should have chosen someone cute like Justin Bieber, who she was supposed to interview last month. The weird look she’s trying to pull off isn’t very attractive—in my humble opinion.
Is she losing her mind?
Chapter Thirty
I force my thoughts away from Harrison and his ex long enough to pull myself together for the event. My body is one big cramp of tension and my palms are sweating as we pass by Vinny, who is officiously manning the semi-circular greeting desk of Lucky Strike Bowling Lanes. So far so good. We just spent all of five seconds checking in while he barely looked at me, and instead sent Chloe a seductive look with his dark, Latin lover eyes.
I hope Chloe and I don’t draw too much attention because we sure make an odd couple. Chloe looks dazzling in a sleeveless royal purple silk top with a deep V neckline and dark skinny jeans with pewter platform sandals. Her emerald eyes are enhanced by smoky amethyst eye shadow and black kohl eyeliner. We’re standing below a rotating sparkly dome hanging from the ceiling and she preens before a news cameraman who snaps our picture. When he asks for our names, she coyly declines. I keep my mouth shut so I don’t ruin things.
Several inches taller than me in stop-the-traffic platform sandals, Chloe looks every bit the trophy date as she hangs onto my arm and surveys the room. People must be thinking, that puny old guy with her must be loaded.
“Where should we go?” she whispers, tossing her long hair over her shoulder as she clutches my arm.
“We can bypass the shoe rental area on our left,” I say in a low voice. Earlier, we’d agreed that we wouldn’t be bowling tonight. I don’t think I could manage to score a strike and hold on to my hat at the same time.
“Let’s get a drink before we circulate.” I need all the help I can get to stop twitching nervously.
“Good idea. People are beginning to stare.” She purses her mauve-glossed lips into a sexy pout. She better cut that out or Devon will be on her like a dog with a ham bone!
“Do you blame them?” I mumble under my beard.
Chloe and I enter the lounge area and sidle up to the bar. “Two mojitos, please,” Chloe says, smiling at the bartender. Within seconds, he hands us oversized mojitos with a big smile.
I inhale the delicious scent of crushed mint leaves mingled with lime and rum and take a long, satisfying sip. Cocktails in hand, we stroll to the eating area and Chloe helps herself to a few BBQ chicken bites and spinach and cheese pita triangles. I don’t want to get it on my beard, so I pass on eating even though everything looks good.
“Look, there’s Devon,” I whisper to Chloe, nodding toward the far end of the room. He cuts a charismatic, handsome presence standing at a podium in front of a large panoramic screen that is flashing images of women exercising.
“Whoa, you forgot to mention he’s so good-looking.” Chloe sizes him up with a smile playing at her lips. “Look at all the women around him. He’s got a fan base already.”
“That he does. This should be interesting. Since nobody knows you here, we can be totally anonymous. Let’s sit in the back.”
When we get situated in the last row, Chloe turns to me. “Do you know that blonde woman next to him? She looks like she’s in love with him.”
“Uh, yeah…that’s my boss, Antoinette. We need to stay far away from her today. Very far.” I swallow against the panicky knot that’s threatening to close up my throat.
Chloe makes a wry face. “Gotcha. Quit looking so worried.” She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll fool everyone.”
The room grows silent when Antoinette takes the mic and introduces Dr. Hamme. In a deferential tone, she lavishes him with accolades about his qualifications as a medical doctor, in addition to his expertise in sex therapy.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our esteemed speaker, Dr. Devon Hamme. Dr. Hamme is soon to be the host of WBCG’s new lifestyle segment on women’s sexuality called “Shall We Talk?” Let’s have a round of applause for Dr. Devon Hamme!” Antoinette says in a rallying voice as if she’s about to lead a cheer.
Dr. Hamme flashes his movie star smile and basks in the enthusiastic burst of applause from the audience of mostly women and a few men.
“Good afternoon, ladies. I see some of you have brought your men today. Excellent. It is my supreme pleasure to welcome you to Bowled Over, an event organized by WBCG’s own Francesca Lake. Francesca laments she could not be here today due to a bout with chicken pox.” He pauses at the sympathetic groan in the audience.
“No worries,” he says, beaming. “She’s on the mend and would be delighted to see your enthusiastic turnout today. The aim of this event is to promote and maintain heart health, especially among women like Francesca’s mother who is a heart attack survivor.”
Devon’s piercing silver eyes scan the audience. “How many of you lovely ladies exercise regularly?” The look on his face says, “If you don’t, then start now.”
Several women raise their hands.
“Splendid!” Devon says effusively. “For those who don’t exercise, it’s never too late to start. A woman’s heart is not to be trifled with or to be ignored. It is to be cherished and tended to lovingly. Good nutrition, exercise and stress management are key elements to excellent heart health.” He pauses and smiles. “But we must not neglect a woman’s second heart…”
“Oh brother,” I mutter under my breath. “He better not be leading where I think he is.”
“Does anyone know to which heart I am referring?” Devon intones, sending a sizzling look into the audience.
“This is way inappropriate. Say something, Chloe!” I implore her.
Chloe raises her hand. “A woman’s second heart is her soul,” she says, challenging him with her chin thrust high in the air.
Devon gives her an enigmatic smile. “Well put, miss. But I was referring to another part.”
I hear a few titters coming from the mostly female audience.
“Wait, I know,” Chloe interrupts, shooting up from her seat. “Her second heart is her passion for living.”
I glance at Chloe and almost lose it. Her green eyes look fiery, a sure sign that she won’t let it go. Several women turn to look at her as if she’s an unwelcome heckler.
I touch her arm. “Sit down,” I say behind my hand. “People are staring at us.”
“You’re right, without passion, a woman’s second heart would not thrive and blossom.” Devon gives Chloe a sly smile. “At the end of my speech, we will have a question and answer session and I encourage you to share your recipe for keeping passion alive in your second heart,” he continues shamelessly.
Defeated, Chloe slumps in her chair.
“I can’t take this,” I whisper. “Let’s go check out the bowling teams.”
Chloe and I sneak out while Devon entertains his rapt audience with a rousing speech about love, passion and healthy self-indulgence.
“You think he noticed us leave?” Chloe asks.
“Yeah. He looked surprised that an audience member would leave so soon.”
“Big ego, huh? Too bad he’s so gorgeous.”
I nod and grin under my beard. “Oh, look there’s a photo booth. Let’s take some pictures before we head to the bowling lanes.”
Chloe and I pile into the photo booth and select the option for double sets of color prints. She sits on my lap and we mug for the camera, laughing like a pair of loons.
“These turned out hilarious. I can’t wait to show Harrison tonight,” Chloe says, giggling at the pictures.
“Please don’t. Especially not that one.” I point at the one where Chloe is cradling my head and kissing my bearded cheek while I make googly eyes at the camera. “Put them away before someone sees them.” The mention of Harrison makes my heart hurt.
“Okay,” she says and slips them into her handbag.
We head over to watch the bowling teams competing to bring in lots of money from their pledges. Posing like a couple, we take a seat on one of the plush brown sofas behind the twelve bowling lanes to watch the action. Chloe waves to a waiter and orders a second round of mojitos and a veggie pizza.
I really hope Chloe moves down to Miami, she is so much fun.
We have just toasted to each other’s health, when an Australian male voice from behind us makes me freeze. I widen my eyes and make a face at Chloe that says “uh oh, watch out” when Devon rounds the corner of the sofa to join us.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you, Miss…?” he says, smiling at Chloe.
“Taylor,” Chloe fills in, smiling back at him. “And this is Mr. Camilo Ortiz. He is visiting from Rio de Janeiro.”
Devon sits beside me and shakes my hand. “Muito prazer, Senhor Ortiz,” he says to me and I almost lose it. Who would have guessed that Devon spoke Portuguese?
“Mmm hmm,” I croak, pretending I have a frog in my throat. I nod and keep my eyes diverted from Devon’s penetrating gaze. Luckily, he lets go of my hand and turns his attention back to Chloe.
“Why did you leave during my speech? Did I say something to offend you and your…date?” He gives me a fleeting, odd look and flashes a devastatingly charming grin at Chloe.
Chloe’s cheeks turn bright pink and her mouth looks contorted as she tries to hold back giggles. “No, not at all. Your speech was fascinating and…and um…inspiring. We left because I got a cramp in my leg, and I needed to exercise it.” Her voice is strangled—a dead giveaway that she’s trying not to laugh.
Devon eyes her leg with interest. “A massage would do it a world of good. I—”
Before he can offer his services, Chloe snuggles up to me and purrs, “Good thing Camilo is a genius at massage.”
Suddenly the second mojito cocktail kicks in and I let out a high-pitched giggle.
Devon turns toward me and raises my chin with his hand. He peers into my eyes and says, “Francesca, is that you?”
“Shhh,” I implore him. “How did you know?”
“Your pheromones are unmistakable, darling. Although your giggle tipped me off, your soft hands and delicate shoulders screamed woman,” Devon says, beaming at me as he squeezes my shoulder.
Chloe lets out a peal of laughter and I nudge her when several bowlers turn around to stare at us.
“Why are you dressed like an old man? Do you have certain preferences I don’t know about, Francesca darling?” Devon’s voice booms out teasingly. “That would explain why you don’t fancy my expertise and charms. I hope Miss Taylor doesn’t share the same inclinations as you,” he says, clearly taken with Chloe.
“Please, lower your voice. Antoinette cannot find out I’m here,” I plead.
“Antoinette? Why would she deny you entrance here?” the dense man persists, only lowering his voice a notch. He peers into my eyes with interest.
“Having a good time, Devon?” I hear Antoinette’s shrill, flirtatious voice inquire.
The three of us stiffen in unison as she approaches.
“Delightful,” Devon says. “I was just telling Senhor Ortiz and his beautiful date that Francesca has outdone herself today. What a wonderful event she planned! Quite impressive.”
“I helped her considerably,” Antoinette says, ignoring Chloe and me. “As you know, the poor girl came down with a vicious case of chicken pox and looked utterly dreadful. It was pathetic.”
My eyes pop open at her rude comment. Antoinette never even saw me.
“Impossible. Francesca could never look dreadful,” Devon says, winking at me. What is he doing? Now Antoinette’s attention will be drawn to me. Oh no, it is. She just did a quick once-over on me and is now staring at Chloe.
“Did you see her?” Devon asks Antoinette.
“No, but I’m sure she was pock marked and scratching like a
flea-bitten mongrel,” Antoinette replies, trilling with mocking laughter. “The silly girl was insisting on coming today, but I had to ban her. She would have ruined everything.”
“Urgh, argh,” I gurgle, barely able to stop myself from lunging at her. Chloe decides to sit on my lap and hold me down.
“I wouldn’t say that. Would you, Senhor Ortiz, er…I mean Francesca?” Devon inquires wickedly. “Toni, don’t you think Francesca looks comical today?”
Nooo. Why would Devon out me? I throw him a horrified look and his response is a grin from ear-to-ear. What a troublemaker! I’m sure he finds this very amusing. Of course, he’s not in danger of losing his job. Antoinette grimaces as her beady eyes zero in on me with hawk like precision. When realization dawns that she is staring in the face of her insubordinate employee, she goes ballistic. The scary look on her face screams Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction menacing with a knife as she leans toward me.
Please don’t hurt me. I cringe and hide behind Chloe, who can’t seem to control a fit of hysterical giggles.
“Get up!” Antoinette hisses.
I shoot up from the couch, nearly toppling Chloe to the ground.
“How dare you disobey my orders? I forbade you to come and you showed up anyway! You look ridiculous,” Antoinette sneers. “What if one of our viewers recognizes you?”
Backing away from her, I stutter, “I…I…I’m so sorry, Antoinette. I wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly. Look at what a huge success it is,” I say in a bright tone, even though I’m feeling far from bright.
“Shut up and don’t bother coming to work on Monday morning,” she snarls, red in the face. “You’re fired!”
Chloe and I gasp out loud. Dumbstruck, I stare at Antoinette, my heart racing and my hands shaking by my sides. I’ve just lost my dream job and now that Elise was back in the saddle, I was going do it fulltime again! I’ll need to find a way to support myself and Romeo ASAP. How will I pay for my rent and my car payments? And what about my medical insurance, car insurance… God, I don’t even want to think about it.
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