Connie's Silver Shoes (The Candy Cane Girls Book 4)

by Bonnie Engstrom

  Then came the photographs – dozens it seemed. From every angle, even up. “Miss Connie will use these for inspiration. Especially, if she has trouble remembering what you look like.” She giggled. “Doubt that, though.”

  He put on his real clothes in a flimsy dressing room. Maybe female models didn’t mind the curtain that barely closed it off, but he did. When he stepped out, Alice was gone, but another beautiful woman stood beside Connie. Tall. Naturally dark blonde hair swept up.

  “Jaeda, this is Doreen, another Candy Cane. She is one of my models.”

  Doreen extended her hand and grasped his firmly which made him like her immediately. Other than Connie, few women did that. Most had wimpy milkshake handclasps. Why did they think that was appealing?

  ~

  Doreen turned to Connie. Jaeda had finally left on his unique motorcycle after an obligatory hug to Connie.

  “Wow! Where did you find the dude?” Doreen’s comment unnerved Connie.

  “Bank. Bank officer. Long story.”

  “So, tell. I have time.”

  Connie hesitated. “Remember my telling you about the financial backing from the mystery group?”

  Doreen nodded. “He a part of it?”

  “No, he is an intermediary. But, I had to meet with him to budget the money I was receiving.”

  “Go on. This sounds intriguing.” Doreen locked eyes with Connie. “You sweet on him?”

  “Didn’t think so,” she paused, “until today. He is quite a hunk, huh?”

  “You betcha, as my Swedish grandpa used to say. You betcha!”

  “Can’t go anywhere. Big social problem, right?”

  “I don’t know. Might be less social and more family problem. Get my drift?”

  Connie did. For once in her twenty seven years Mom had seemed happy for her. She tried to recall the conversation. All she could remember was a mumbled “I am proud of you.” That was enough. Now, if she decided, or chose, to date a man of color, how would Mom react? She wasn’t sure she had the courage to go there. Then she remembered her friend Marchesa in fifth grade, the first friend of color she had brought home. So many new people had moved into the neighborhood, and Connie was thrilled to make a new friend. It had upset her that some of the snooty girls ignored Marchesa. Was it because she was new, or because she was African-American? Connie hadn’t cared. Mom had greeted both of them with cookies and milk, shook Marchesa’s hand, even hugged her hello. Both moms had become friends often chatting together on their phones. No cell phones then, but both worrying about their daughters.

  Connie remembered the time she and Marchesa and two other friends were shopping at Ralphs for treats to have after a movie night at her house. The clerk looked at Marchesa and said, “How do you do that? How do you get your hair in all those tiny braids? Does it take hours?”

  Connie was appalled and embarrassed for her friend. She wanted to crawl into one of the grocery bags. But, Marchesa looked the insensitive woman in the eye and said, “Yes, it does take hours, but it lasts for weeks.” She was so proud of her friend. When they got home she told Mom who shook her head in disgust and hugged Marchesa. Would Mom remember that incident?

  ~

  Jaeda tossed his helmet on the sofa. Usually he stored it in the bike. But, today he was filled with strange uncertainties. He was out of routine. His little dog Jake leaped around his legs begging for attention. How could he refuse? Jake was all he had now that Keona was gone. He still had hopes of moving to Scottsdale. He loved the area and all it offered, and he especially loved that it supported motorcycle events. Maybe he could share that with Connie. Or, maybe he shouldn’t.

  He fried a steak and put a pre-wrapped sweet potato in the microwave. He depended on easy to prepare food and good old Stouffer’s. As often as he ate their entrees maybe he should buy some stock in Nestle the distributor. He cut open the golden potato slicing it down the middle, then loaded it with huge chunks of butter and fresh ground pepper over the two halves. Suddenly, he felt guilty. If he was going to help Connie out by modeling, he had better cut back on the calories. Since Keona left he had been lax, probably trying to silently defy her for all those leafy green dinners. Now, he had a whole new budding career to think about. Or a part-time career, at least.

  He was just reaching in the freezer for a Ghirardelli dark chocolate square when his cell buzzed. He really should take the ring tone of a revving motorcycle off. Not very professional. The screen told him it was a call from Connie. What now?

  “Hi! You busy?” Her voice trilled over the phone like music.

  “Not really. What’s up?” He hoped no more fittings to schedule.

  “Uh . . .” Silence. Finally, “Wondered if you were free for a cup of coffee.”

  “Sure. Where?” They arranged to meet at the Corona del Mar Starbucks. But, he wondered … was this a date?

  ~

  She did it. Sort of. She initiated the plans. Now she wasn’t sure. Maybe he would think it was a business meeting. Maybe he would think it too forward of her. She put on a light blue low-cut blouse, one of her own favorite designs. The flirty patterned skirt swirled around her legs just above the knees. Adding about ten jangle bracelets and a watch with a blue band that matched the blouse, she felt very feminine. How would he see her?

  At the last minute she decided on long, dangly silver earrings that hung below her hairline. They complimented the strappy silver five inch heels with her blue polished toes peeking out. How would he react? She wasn’t the uncertain girl who he first met when she sat across from him in the bank. She leaned forward toward the full length mirror. A tiny bit of cleavage showed emphasizing her snowy skin. Although Jaeda wasn’t dark black, more cocoa colored, they would be an interesting study in contrasts. If anyone even noticed.

  ~

  Jaeda got there first and grabbed a tiny table out front on the busy sidewalk. He loved the evening air, even with the noise of traffic and the occasional fumes. Maybe all the cycle riding had made him immune. He saw a vision of loveliness in over-sized sunglasses practically skipping up the sidewalk. Who was that doll with the flirty hair and the moist crimson lips? As she got closer, his chest tightened. The low sun illuminated the whiteness of her arms. Very white, pristine. Way out of his league.

  “Good evening, Jaeda.” She pushed the sunglasses on top of her head and touched his shoulder with a delicate, blue-tipped hand. He looked up from the tabletop where he’d been day-dreaming, and almost tipped over the metal chair when he scooted back to stand.

  “Connie?” How stupid was that, Jaeda. Use your wits, or what’s left of them. “Y – you look lovely, ravishing.” Did he say that right? He didn’t want to be too forward, but she honestly did.

  “Thank you, Sir.” Her face broke into a teasing grin, and she laughed a quick tinkling sound. “Tonight I am not the business woman in the power suit. Tonight I want to relax and have fun.”

  He nodded. About all he could do. Where was his voice?

  “Oh, you wore my fav shirt.” She tweaked the collar of the dark red one he’d worn the day they met. “I love that color on you.”

  He was going to lose it. Where had this metamorphosis come from? “I – I thought you maybe wanted to discuss business. I was wrong?”

  She licked her lips, like she’d told him models were instructed to do before a photo. She batted her eyes and displayed that mischievous grin again. “You betcha you were wrong.” She laughed softly. “One of Doreen’s Swedish grandpa’s expressions. You betcha,” she repeated and laughed again. She was flirting, with him. And, he liked it. Maybe too much.

  “What did you have in mind for fun and relaxing?” He needed to process this and be prepared.

  She cocked her head. “Do you like to dance?”

  “Love to, but I’m not very good.” There, he’d admitted it. He really should look up Arthur Murray. Keona always chastised him at weddings for not even knowing how to waltz.

  “Not to worry. I’m not very good, either. But, I l
ove to. Maybe we can lead each other.”

  “You have a place in mind?” He had lost control of this. Was it a date?

  “Sort of. I remember the Balboa Pavilion used to have dance nights. Wonder if it still does. Mmm. Should have checked before inviting you.” She raised those expressive eyebrows and clasped his hand. “If not tonight, there is always the bumper cars, the Ferris wheel, even that windy, but romantic boat ride. Come on. Let’s do it.”

  ~

  Connie’s insides were shaking like they’d been put in a blender on high speed. How had she had the nerve to do this? Something had overcome her normal reticence. Had she lost all discernment? She wasn’t usually a forward person, not with men anyhow. After a bad college experience, she avoided them. Especially male models. But, she had succumbed to gorgeous Bill Lord Junior and gone out to dinner with him that one time. He had been almost too polite, giving her the message he wasn’t all that interested in her. When he started dating Doreen, she knew why.

  She slid into the passenger seat of Jaeda’s little sport car and prayed silently.

  He started to laugh. “This will be a fun evening. Thanks, Connie. I am excited about it.”

  She gave a wan smile. “Hope so.”

  He reached across the console and laid his hand on hers. “You sorry you invited me?”

  She sighed. No, she wasn’t, but would she have the nerve to tell him about her reservations? “No,” she finally said. “I like you a lot. But, I’ve never asked any man on a date before, in all my twenty-seven years.”

  “Especially a black man, I bet?”

  “That has nothing to do with anything. Honest,” she said. But, she knew she was lying. It had everything to do with them.

  “Connie,” he said. “I am so flattered you asked me to join you this evening, but,” he hesitated, “we are not the ideal Newport Beach couple. I am sure heads will turn and eyebrows will raise. We may even hear whispered snide remarks.” He squeezed her hand. “Can you handle that?” He glanced over at her. “Maybe we should cancel.”

  “NO! Not on your life, or mine,” she chuckled. “I have made a grown up decision, and I will stick with it. I like you a lot. You are more than my banker, more than a model, you are my friend. At least I hope so.” She looked at him questioningly. Did he believe her?

  ~

  They were in luck. It was Friday evening and the Pavilion was having dance night, for a fee. Jaeda insisted on paying even though he was Connie’s guest. Was that what he was? He still had reservations about this non-date, as Connie called it. He loved being with her, being seen with her. Didn’t matter her skin color. She was a beautiful, dynamic woman. If only she wasn’t exuding so much sex. Besides her lovely attire and her beautiful face and figure, she projected sensuality. He didn’t think it was intentional, as if she was deliberately trying to come on to him. He knew she was a Christian, and when she had explained about the Candy Canes, he knew all the girls had taken a vow of celibacy until marriage. But, he had been married, and whether it was testosterone or hormones or just being male, he desired her.

  Jaeda made a special effort to straighten his tie, tuck in his shirt and pull up his pants to sit at the right spot on his waist. He wanted her to be proud of him. Then he thought, why shouldn’t she? He was a bank manager for one of the biggest corporations, and now, he was a model. All that had no association to his skin color.

  The funky band started to play, and he pulled Connie into his arms. Strong arms. He hoped she realized that. The first tune was a waltz. She smiled up at him, and he let her guide him. Someday, he would learn the simple steps. But, for now, he was just happy to have her in his arms.

  He was rewarded with be-bop. Was it still called that? At least it was what he knew and was more comfortable with. He swung her around, thrilled her skirt lifted and twirled like it was flying into the wind. When she leaned toward him, he saw the pristine whiteness of her chest. He was a goner.

  ~

  “That was so fun!” She was panting, trying to catch her breath. “I loved it when you twirled me. I hope you like to dance as much as I do?” She had made it a question and waited for his answer.

  “I do. Now. I was never into dancing, but with you I love it.” He hoped he had given the right answer because it was the truth. With her he could do anything. Hadn’t he proved that standing for hours to be measured on a pedestal by Alice with her cloudy glasses? Surely, he had demonstrated his attraction to her by coming here tonight.

  “Why. Don’t. You. Take off that tie?” She tugged at the four in hand knot and loosened it. “Seems so restrictive.” He got caught up in her melodic laughter and yanked the offending noose off to tuck it into his pocket. He drew her into his arms again just as a blonde woman tapped her on the arm. She was about Connie’s age and seemed friendly. So, he released her, assuming Connie would want to chat with an old friend. Connie pulled back. She said a simple “Hi, nice to see you, Vicki. Excuse us, please.”

  What was that all about? The other girl persisted.

  “But, aren’t you going to introduce me? He is so handsome, and so …” Her words faded off. But, he could guess.

  “Okay, but quickly. We are having such a good time.” She gestured to Jaeda. “This is my friend, Jaeda. Jaeda, Vicki from high school.”

  He did the “Nice to meet you,” and extended his hand, but Vicki seemed reluctant to take it. She did the fingertip touch, then withdrew and wiped her hand on her clothes. Did she think his skin color would rub off on her?

  ~

  They were back at Starbucks, finally having coffee.

  “This isn’t going to work, Connie, my Funny Connie.” He had started to call her that during one of the more enthusiastic dances when she couldn’t stop twirling and spinning. What right did he have to call her “My Funny Connie?” None.

  “What isn’t?” She tilted her head and seemed to be peering at his eyes. Was she playing dumb?

  “Surely, you know what I mean. You and me.” Suddenly he felt a foot caressing his leg under the table. She had slipped off a shoe and slid her toes under the hem of his pant leg. “Stop that, Connie, please.”

  “Why? You embarrassed?” She giggled and tickled his ankle more. “This, may I remind you, Jaeda, is the twenty-first century. And, it’s California, not Arkansas.”

  He shoved back his chair and towered above her. “Let me walk you to your car.” Then, he remembered. “Do I have a fitting tomorrow?”

  “Thank you. But, I can walk myself to my car. And, yes, you do. Two p.m.” She reached down and slipped her silver sandal back on, stood up to face him and even with the five inch heels only reached his chin. Giving a little bird wave, she said, “See you then.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Oh, Nat, what am I going to do? I am so attracted to him.” She waited for Natalie’s reply on the other end of the call. But, all she heard was silence broken periodically with a tsk sound. “Nat, you there? I really need advice.”

  “Aw, Con. This is tricky. More difficult than the Cindy and Rob situation. You did say Jayden is a Christian, right?”

  “Yes, and his name is Jaeda.” She spelled it. “I know, unusual.”

  “Very.”

  “He said his little sister named him. Cute, huh?”

  “Uh, yeh. What else do you know about him?”

  “ I know he’s smart, obviously, since he is an officer at the bank. He was born and pretty much brought up in New York; got the West Coast bug. But, not for acting, just business. Has an MBA, dresses real snazzy.” She raised her voice a tad. “Very classy guy.”

  “Well, is color the only problem he has with dating you?”

  “I – I think so. That’s what he brought up. But, it doesn’t bother me at all.” Then she remembered. “Do you recall that Vicki shrew in high school. The one who was always making fun of us being a group called the Candy Canes?”

  “The one with the rich parents who owned a yacht? If that’s the one, yes, I remember her. Super jealous, wan
ted to be on the swim team but didn’t have the strokes down, nor the stamina.”

  “That’s the one. I think her last name was Hamilton. Her dad also owned a yacht brokerage, not just a yacht. Parents got divorced when the mom ran off with the little brother’s soccer coach.” She started to giggle remembering the neighborhood gossip. Then she remembered the dad, as rich as he was, had a drinking problem. So sad. She shared that with Natalie. “No wonder Vicki is the way she is.”

  “Why are we talking about her?” Natalie asked.

  “Oops, sorry. She was at the Pavilion last night; insisted on being introduced to Jaeda. Sort of sneered at him. Or, was it me? Or, both of us? Anyway, she managed to spoil the moment.”

  “I wouldn’t let a girl like that even bother you. She was either just curious or jealous. Probably jealous now that word has gotten around you are an almost famous fashion designer.”

  Connie laughed out loud. “I wish. But sweet of you to say so. You might be part right, though.” She smiled to herself. “Maybe you should meet him. Then you would know why I like him so much.”

  ~

  Doreen! Connie snapped her fingers. Of course she should call Doreen. She at least had met Jaeda. As she pressed the little symbol on the phone for Doreen’s number, she got an idea.

  “Hey, Connie, what’s up? You need me today?” Doreen was such a wonderful friend, and now employee. Always eager to help. She wasn’t scheduled for a fitting today, but Connie was sure she’d be agreeable to come in. She would pay her, of course, both in salary and clothes. Doreen loved the clothes Connie had designed for her, and Connie allowed her a lot of input about color and fabric and how they felt. For instance, “These pants swish around my ankles too much and get caught up in my orthopedic shoe.” Doreen’s assessments were very helpful and a big reason Connie’s special disability line was gaining acclaim. Two Orange County publications, one a local magazine and one a newspaper, had written it up with a stunning picture of Doreen on the L.A. runway. The contest to name the line was still going on, so hopefully there would be more publicity and more entries.