A Man to Waste Time On

by Nina Barrett

“It’s too much.” Cinna’s pink tongue played with the dollop of whipped cream on her fork. “I can’t tell you when I’ve eaten like this. Maybe the last time I was home for the holidays. Mags and I are pretty much into what’s quick and fast.”

  Despite Vegas’s reputation for fine dining, it didn’t sound like there were a lot of dinner dates in her life.

  “So when was the last time you saw everyone?” he asked.

  Had he said something wrong? She was the one who had brought up the word home. She sat up reaching for her goblet, her fingers tightening around the stem as she looked away.

  “Last Christmas, we were all together. Sage had to leave the day after to prepare for an appearance before a committee on a research grant he was up for. Then Mom and Dad were here in February for a quick weekend to celebrate their anniversary.”

  Her parents, Sage. No mention of Rosemary. Over the years, he’d wondered how he could apologize for just taking off the way he had. Maybe it was better he’d never gotten the chance. Surely a girl like Rosemary would have long forgotten him.

  She pushed her dessert plate away.

  “Any suggestions?”

  “It was all great. Well, maybe, the cream sauce on the Yorkshire pudding had too much horseradish for me, but I’m probably being picky. You didn’t see me refuse a lot.”

  “Glad you like it. Oh, Kyle.”

  Their waiter had returned to collect the dishes.

  “Would you have someone bring the Jag around? I think we’re done here.” As much as he might wish to extend the evening, tomorrow would be another long workday for her.

  “The Jag?” She cocked her head and looked at him curiously.

  “Not mine, strictly a loaner. It’s a 1959 XK, the old-time classic car. Jim keeps several one of a kind, top-notch cars for senior staff and our preferred players. We have a Bentley too. He says it makes a good impression for the Imperial. I have something a little more downscale for running around.” He took a last sip of his water and rose to get her chair.

  The silver XK was under the awning gathering admiring glances from passers-by. The doorman got the door for her as she sank into the leather seat, wiggling her way down.

  “I only wish I lived farther away so I could enjoy the ride longer.” She smiled over at him.

  “It’s a beauty. So where do you live?”

  She gave him an address off downtown, not the best neighborhood.

  “Mags and I usually just walk to work if we don’t have stuff to carry. With the price of gas and finding parking, it’s usually easier.”

  “I could manage a guest pass for you in our parking garage, if that would help. So you two have been living together since you came out here?”

  “Right. It’s a one-bedroom place we found after we rented the shop. We trade off using the bedroom and the couch. This is an expensive city so we’ve been trying to keep expenses down. We furnished it from thrift shops.” As he got her door, she craned her neck and looked up at the darkened building. Spanish-style stucco, the roof was missing some of its red tiles. “Looks like she’s not home yet.”

  “Why don’t I swing by your store and see if she’s ready to leave? It’s not that far away.”

  “Well…” Cinna bit her lip. “She usually just gets a cab at this hour.”

  “It’s no trouble.” He followed her into the building and waited as she found her key.

  “Okay, well then, thank you, Tom, that’s kind of you. And thank you for dinner. It was great.” She extended her hand.

  Evidently, that was going to be it. No chaste goodnight kiss.

  He squeezed her palm, feeling the fingers under his for a moment.

  “My pleasure. Hope everything turns out well with your company this weekend.”

  Chapter Four

  Magdalena had her hair wrapped in a towel as she emerged from the bathroom.

  “Your turn,” she said, bending over to dry her heavy, dark hair.

  “Thanks. So did you hear from David Witheroe last night?”

  “Sure did. I would have told you about it when I got in, but you were sacked out on the couch, dead to the world, when your date brought me home.”

  “Tom was not my date,” Cinna emphasized. “This banquet he’s taking me to is strictly business since he is, as he so eloquently put it, between girlfriends.”

  “Yeah, well with a ride like that I’d be tempted to mix business with pleasure if I thought he had a thing for tall, brunette ex-showgirls.”

  “Please be my guest.”

  “Actually, my current fantasy has a killer New Zealand accent. We talked for quite a while. The closer he gets, the closer I want him. Don’t raise your eyebrows at me. You know how long it’s been for both of us.”

  “Who’s reminding whom about business?”

  “Speaking of which my dream date is bringing along some special white and green teas for us he’s really excited about. I love a man who can talk about flavonoids.” Magdalena straightened and ran her hands through her hair.

  “There still have to be limits as to what we’ll do for business.”

  “Barbara Anthony called last night.” Magdalena went over to stand with her back to the window, lifting her hair off the nape of her neck in the sunlight.

  “How’s she getting along with the twins?”

  “Super. They’re weaned, even trying to sit up, and she’s ready to leave them for a while. Stan has the day off today and she’s going to let him have some quality daddy-time with the twosome and come into the shop for us this afternoon. We need to do some major shopping, girl. We’re in a time crunch.”

  “Oh, Mags. I could…I could just…” Her voice trailed off as Magdalena stared at her disbelieving.

  “You could what? Wear a clean apron to the awards dinner? Wouldn’t that make them sit up and take notice?”

  Magdalena carried her towel into the bathroom, returning with her blow dryer and round brush. “Cinnamon, the Las Vegas Hospitality Industry Association banquet is a big deal. Very big. Millions of dollars hang on getting these awards. For the Imperial, it could be the breakout event. You and your date, kind-of date, semi-date, whatever, are going to be photographed, scrutinized, and evaluated up the ying-yang. You need to be the drop-dead, gorgeous, young business woman on the rise we both know you can be.”

  “Sounds drop-dead expensive,” she muttered as Magdalena plugged in her dryer.

  “What?” Magdalena started the dryer and ran her fingers through her bangs.

  “Money.” She scratched her palm.

  “Well, I’ve got the names of some places off the Strip to try.” Magdalena rolled up a section of her hair and dried it. “We’ll scout out the whole package—dress, shoes, accessories…classy, lacy things.”

  “Oh, no, we won’t, Magdalena. Tom isn’t getting anywhere near any classy, lacy things. Forget about that.”

  “It’s part of the package. Trust me. I want you to be the seducer out there. You need to project an image that will have those people panting for a good cup of tea.”

  “I don’t think people in this town are going to connect lace undies with a good cup of tea.”

  “We’ll see. Anyway, there was one more call.” Her roommate turned down the dryer and scrunched her curls. “Another Smith girl has hit Sin City.”

  “Rosemary got in?”

  “The one and only. She and her boyfriend…Ned, Jed, Ted? I was in swoon mode dreaming of David when I picked up her call. Had just checked into their hotel. They’re staying at the Cote d’Azur. She didn’t know their schedule, but she said she’d call back later.”

  “Oh, great.” Life was getting complicated. Over the past few years, her sister’s life had been taken up with dental school, a post-graduate internship, and setting up her own practice. Now if Rose had a man in her life, she might be more interested in him than what was going on with her kid sister. And with her hotel on the strip, she was safely away from Fremont Street, the Imperial, and Tom.

  “Well, th
ere’s a world out there awaiting their morning caffeine. I’m going to get dressed and go on in. Take your time here.”

  “I won’t be long.” Cinna stood and found the throw pillows, tossing them back on the couch and disguising its use as a bed again.

  “Should be an easy day with Barbara coming in. We’ll take off, grab lunch somewhere, and find an outfit to make Tom forget he ever knew Rosemary.”

  Going on into the small bedroom with its adjoining bath, Cinna shook her head. She’d lain awake last night thinking about Tom’s parting remark until she realized he’d been talking about the arrival of their tea scout.

  Forget he knew Rosemary? If only it worked both ways.

  ****

  The expression on Magdalena’s face mirrored her own.

  “No, yes?”

  “Yes, no.” Her partner shook her head. “The trouble with knock-offs is that it looks like you’re trying hard to be hip.”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to be a wanna be.” Cinna sighed and returned to the dressing room to wiggle out of possibility number seventeen.

  “So how did the outfit work for you?” The young sales clerk had returned to where Magdalena was gathering their things as she emerged.

  “Thank you, but we’ll think about it. We’re still gathering ideas.” She collected her purse from Magdalena.

  “It’s really hot. I don’t know how long we’ll have it in stock. DeAnna Davis was photographed just the other day in a dead-ringer for it,” the salesclerk called after them.

  “How about it? You could have the paparazzi chasing you.” Magdalena held the door for her as they emerged back into the afternoon heat.

  “Yeah, what’s her latest claim to fame? Being arrested twice in one night?”

  “Right. You know…” Magdalena paused at the curb, tilting her head and wrinkling her brow. “Maybe we need to try a different approach. Something less au courant.”

  “Maybe the Dress isn’t out there. Maybe I should just find something that fits and call it a day.”

  “Not so fast. I have an idea. Let’s head back north. There’s a shop on Fremont, out of this high rent craziness. I haven’t been inside, but I’ve admired their windows. It’s called VinTauge.”

  “I know where it is, but isn’t it secondhand, used stuff, Mags? Like you said, this hospitality association banquet is a big deal.” What enthusiasm she’d started with was ebbing away. “I mean I don’t really want to wear someone else’s castoffs.”

  “Trust me. It’s upscale recycled designer duds. C’mon, girl. It’s worth a try. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to look and we’ll be back close to the shop again.”

  Magdalena found a pen and a copy of their take-out menu in her purse as they exchanged the monorail for the bus.

  “I probably have enough make-up left over from my days at the Strike to fix you up Saturday, but we’ll need hair stuff.” Turning the menu over, she started a list.

  “Mags, there isn’t enough conditioner in Las Vegas to tame this mop.” Cinna shook her head sending her curls flying.

  “Not trying to. I figure Tom likes you the way you are. Don’t look at me that way.” Magdalena stared back at her. “We just need to glam you up a bit.”

  “Tom’s only interested in having a female on his arm.”

  “Honey, if he’s male, conscious, and breathing, he’s interested in more than that. Nylons, not nylons.” Magdalena bit her lip debating. “With us working inside pretty much 24/7 neither of us has much color. Maybe we can pick up a bronzer too. Tanned legs, a pair of open-toed stilettos.”

  “Come on, I don’t wear heels, let alone fancy ones. I’ll walk in and fall on my face. Won’t that stop people in their tracks?”

  “Tom will be there to catch you. Okay, this is our stop. Once more into the breech, girlfriend.”

  Cinna followed her down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Even with a break for lunch and a pick-me-up cocktail, the afternoon seemed long. The sun was lowering in the sky. Surely, Barbara would be glancing at her watch and thinking about getting home soon. She stopped short. Magdalena stood transfixed in front of a store window as passers-by made their way around her.

  “Isn’t it divine?” She drew a shaky breath and pointed a finger at a mannequin modeling a square-necked, black cocktail dress. “Cinna, Cinna, Cinna. Can’t you just see Audrey Hepburn in that? Maybe with a big hat.”

  “Audrey, yes. Cinnamon, no.” But Magdalena was pushing through the door, not listening to her.

  The shop was nicer than she’d anticipated. Definitely an improvement on the used clothing shop she’d had in mind. Discreet racks stood on the polished bamboo floors under offset lighting. Something low and relaxing was playing on the store’s sound system.

  “Can I help you?” In a retro, double-breasted blue blazer, the young man seemed suitably attired.

  “I love your window.” Magdalena clasped her hands. “I’ve been past a number of times, but never stopped in.”

  “Thank you. Welcome to VinTauge. I’m Evan Kirkpatrick. My mother and a friend opened the store some years back as a venue to offer gently-used quality clothing. We do get a number of compliments on our windows. So how can I help you today?”

  “It’s for my friend here.”

  She looked up from the rack she’d been flipping through.

  “Cinnamon is going to the annual awards dinner at the Convention Center this Saturday,” Magdalena explained.

  “Oh, the Las Vegas Hospitality Industry Association banquet. How special!”

  “Yes, we know it’s short notice.”

  “It’s kind-of a last minute thing,” she explained as the sales associate circled around, hand on chin studying her.

  “Size eight, I’d venture.”

  “More like a ten usually.”

  “Go with the eight. We want to show off your curves, girl. So what do you think?” Magdalena asked. “I loved the dress in your window.”

  “Hm. Yes, it’s quite nice. But…well, black is always classic, but it can be done to death, you know. I’m thinking…” He bit his lip before nodding decisively. “Yes, I have something that just came in. It’s still in the back. Let me get it for you.”

  “Isn’t this exciting? This is the place where we can find a one of a kind gown for you. Not a tartlet-starlet rip-off.”

  “Gown? Let’s remember this is not a ball at the palace I’m going to.”

  She didn’t like the way her friend snorted, but before she could say anything, Evan was back with something on a hanger.

  For the first time in her life, her jaw actually sagged in shock as he held it out to them.

  “Oh, Cinna.” Magdalena moved over to pick up the dress with a tentative hand and let it drape over her fingers. “It’s perfect. Talk about retro glamour.”

  “The blonde bombshell look,” Evan assured her knowingly.

  Blonde bombshell? Cinnamon Smith? When did those two things ever go together?

  “Oh, Mags, that doesn’t sound like me.”

  “Try it on. Just try it on. I want to see how you look in it. Do it, do it, do it, Cinna.”

  “I…” But Evan was taking her by the elbow over to one of the dressing rooms, hanging the hanger from a hook before he closed the louvered door.

  Okay, well she could be a good sport. She kicked off her sandals, pulled off her T-shirt, and stepped out of her skirt as she contemplated the dress. The gold lamé sheath had slightly padded shoulders, elbow length sleeves, a V-neck and belted waist. The skirt split just above the knee, falling away in the back.

  Probably worth more originally than she and Mags cleared in a week. She inhaled, stiffed her upper lip, and slid the dress over her head. It settled around her as she fastened the belt. The waist was snug, but not uncomfortable; the neckline low enough just to hint at something. She ran her hands through her curls to fluff them before emerging from the dressing room.

  Evan’s face broke into a smile as Magdalena stared at her wide-eyed.

  �
�Well, va-va-voom, girl!”

  ****

  She pushed the door open with one hand and held it for Magdalena. From the counter, Barbara looked up and waved a hand.

  “Welcome back. How did it go?” she asked.

  “Mission accomplished. We found the most fabulous dress at VinTauge, the classic resell shop over on Fremont. We left it there for alterations. So then, of course, we had to find some things to go with it, right?” Magdalena opened a bag. “A sparkly barrette, highlighting to glam up our princess—”

  “Cinna does not stand for Cinderella.”

  “Close enough. Some dangly earrings to add interest, yes?”

  “I love them!” Barbara reached out a hand.

  “And, courtesy of Shoe World, the latest in glass slippers and matching clutch. Ta-da!” Magdalena produced the last items triumphantly.

  “Well, you girls made out like bandits, didn’t you?”

  “So how were things here?” She circled the counter and hit the no sale button on the register to open the cash drawer. “Well!”

  “Yeah, business was good. We had a number of people coming by to redeem these things.” Barbara held up one of the coupons they had included in their gift bags for the Imperial. “And we had a big run on the tins of tea you had over there.” She pointed to an empty shelf.

  Magdalena looked over at her. “That was our new Celestial Harmony blend, wasn’t it?”

  “Right. The guests at the hotel must really have liked it,” she said.

  “I looked in the back for more when we ran out, but I couldn’t find. So I started a mailing list.” Barbara picked up a paper from the counter and handed it to her. “We’ve got quite a few names.”

  “Sacramento, Portland, Port Arthur. Bar Harbor, Maine. Wow, Mags. We may really have a hit on our hands.”

  “They were adamant about getting more of it. Really, the men as well as the women.” Barbara looked thoughtful. “It was kind of strange almost. I guess I didn’t appreciate how into tea some people can be.”

  “We worked hard getting the balance of flavors correct. So everything went all right? Stan able to cope with things on the home front?”

  “Aside from one panicked phone call about a missing binky, I think so. It ought to give him a little more appreciation for me anyway.” Barbara took off her apron and stretched. At six feet something, she had played for UNLV on a basketball scholarship.