by Tia Louise
“Are we going to Bal Harbor Shops?” Her voice is breathless as she practically skips beside us. “I’ve always dreamed of strolling the promenade, stopping at the fountains, eating at a little café…”
“You have?” I stare at her in wonder. “I didn’t even know you knew about the place.”
“I don’t live under a rock!”
Reggie observes all of this in quiet amusement. We’ve followed him to a shiny black Mercedes. A driver steps out and holds the door open, but our host steps back to let us get in first.
“I’d give anything for at least a sundress,” I grumble pulling the hem of my tunic top to the middle of my thighs.
“Don’t be a grump,” my sister says. “You have lovely legs.”
It takes less than ten minutes for us to be at the two-story outdoor mall. We’re let out under an awning near the Ralph Lauren store, and we pass through the breezeway, entering a wide passageway between the lines of stores. The pavement is speckled beige granite, and in the center is a long, rectangular fountain with neon orange, yellow, and white Koi fish swimming among reeds and palms.
“This is really beautiful,” I whisper, inhaling the fresh scent of plants and outdoor air conditioning.
“Isn’t it?” Ava looks up and around the plants and flowers spilling over around us. “Those fish are as long as footballs!”
It’s like shopping in a tropical paradise. Bright coral blooms spring out of the center of fleshy hosta plants and tall, slender palm trees tower over shorter fringy plants in dense clusters. In the center of the walkway every so often, the fountain area joins, and a little coffee shop or café is stationed with chairs and tables under huge canvas umbrellas.
The only thing more vibrant than the foliage, fountains, and fish are the women going from shop to shop. Some have multiple bags with the names of stores printed on them. One woman wears a 1950s-style tea-length floral dress with a bright green cardigan over it. Another is in a striped shorts-romper with a huge straw hat. Occasionally a man in a suit walks past.
“Here,” Reggie says, catching Ava’s arm. “We’ll start here.”
I look up to see he’s leading us into Balenciaga, and my knee-jerk response is to protest, saying we can’t afford it. Yeah, it’s going to take me a little time to get used to our new situation.
A woman crosses the floor to us, and Reggie holds out a hand. “Size two for Mademoiselle Ava, and…” He sweeps his eyes over my slightly shorter, more athletic build. “Four for Mademoiselle Zelda.”
“Of course, this way to your rooms.” The young woman motions for us to follow her.
Ava takes off as if nothing strange just happened. I chase to catch up with her, catching her arm and whispering in her ear. “Aren’t we supposed to pick out some things we like first?”
My sister shrugs. “I’m just playing along.”
Moments later we’re in separate dressing rooms, each the size of the hotel room we’ve been living in. They’re all white with black doors and long white upholstered benches in the center. A soft tap, and the sales clerk enters with a short rack holding several different outfits all on hangers.
“These are the editor’s picks from the Spring-Summer collection,” she says. “Please take your time. Can I bring you something to drink?”
My head is spinning, and I could probably use a bottle of water, but I decline. I’m walking slowly toward the rack of monochromatic beige outfits. Most are dresses, but a few are short sets with filmy coats on top.
I’m just slipping on the first completely sheer lace dress when my door slings open. “Check this out!” Ava cries.
Her long, tanned body is clad in wide-legged beige-satin pajama pants with navy pinstripes running down them. Her top is a wide bandeau, and over that is an oversized, triangular-shaped beige coat. She’s holding a white leather clutch that’s round like a cylinder with fringe hanging off it on every side.
“That’s… interesting?” She paces around the room swaying her hips like a model. “Would you wear that out on the street? With your stomach showing and all?”
“I don’t know!” she laughs, “but I love it!”
My sheer dress is on the floor, and I’m pulling on wide-legged shorts in the same material as her pants. The top for me is a V-neck halter contraption with a wide band around my ribs. A long, sheer-chiffon coat is on the hanger with it, which leads me to believe I’m supposed to put it on top.
“Halter and shorts with a chiffon… coat?”
“Oh!” Ava spins around and catches my hands. “You look amazing!”
I pick up a large fanny pack made of pleated and gathered silk. It has a wide zipper across the top and long wide satin strips. “Am I supposed to tie this around my waist?
“Who knew fanny packs were making a comeback?”
“This is a lot bigger than the fanny pack our mom used to wear.”
We finally decide on two outfits each from the lot and head out to meet Reggie, who’s sitting in an elegant leather armchair sipping champagne.
When he sees us with our selections, his nose curls. “That’s hardly enough!”
He stands and stops the clerk, who is heading back out with the two racks from our dressing rooms. He pulls two more items off the racks. One is the full-length halter dress with a midriff Ava had put back. I thought it looked stunning on her. The other is the silly shorts ensemble I rejected. I don’t even try to argue.
We head to the checkout, and I almost have a heart attack when I hear the total. Ava cuts her eyes at me, and I hand over the black card sadly.
“At this rate, we’ll be broke by noon,” I say, but Reggie catches my wrist.
“No, no.” He pulls my hand back and hands the clerk his card. “I’ll get this.”
Relief washes over me, I won’t lie. Even though we’re pretty much committed at this point, I like the idea that I still have Ten-K should we decide to bolt.
From that store, we head to Alexander McQueen, where we pick up several unusual evening gowns in mostly black with turquoise butterflies all over them. Ava chooses a neon-pink chiffon mini-dress with a black leather bustier-style vest, and while I can’t imagine where she’ll wear it, I also have no idea what our future holds.
Finally, Reggie decides we’ve bought enough, and we make our way through the jungle walkway back to the entrance where I expect the black Mercedes to be waiting.
Ava hums softly as we walk, and I notice she’s holding a round piece of dark chocolate near her mouth. It looks very fine and decadent, and she takes her time consuming it.
“Where did you get that?” I whisper, my stomach pinching.
“What?” She snaps out of her spell and realizes I’m watching her eat. “Oh! Here—” The large fanny pack I rejected is now tied around her waist with a satin bow. She unzips it and holds it open so I can see a pile of identical chocolates to the one she’s holding inside.
“Where did you get all these?”
She shrugs. “They were on a tray inside the last store.”
“Ava!” I start to laugh. Reaching in, I take one of the smooth chocolates from her bag and eat it.
I have to stop walking when the rich flavor fills my mouth. “Oh my god. That is so good.”
“I know, right? Have another one.”
I’m holding the second stolen treat to my lips as we walk. Reggie’s up ahead of us, and my eyes travel to the second floor and around the treetops. Birds sing, and the air smells like rain. My anxiety about our future has diminished with our new wardrobe packed up and headed to our hotel. I suppose that’s what they call “retail therapy.”
“I’ve cancelled your room at the New Yorker,” Reggie says once we exit the courtyard full of designer boutiques. “Your few belongings have been sent to the St. Regis where I’m staying.”
I freeze in the crosswalk, but Ava pulls my arm. “Come on,” she says. “You’re going to get run over.”
“Wait—you cancelled our room? You moved our stuff? How—”
“I didn’t think I’d need to learn much if it’s going to be an accidental meeting,” I follow him into the shimmering elevator. Ava leans her forehead against the glass wall and looks down as we shoot up to the fourteenth floor.
“You won’t have to learn much about him, but you do need to decide where you went to college, your major of study, your favorite designer, place to eat, resort destination—”
“So I have to tell lies.” That gross feeling trickles through my stomach, carrying all my hesitations about this job right back with it.
He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Perhaps it won’t come up, but in case it does, yes. You might have to tell a few… half-truths. An heiress of your caliber has more experience than an afternoon shopping at Bal Harbor.”
My lips press together, and as much as I hate it, he’s right. “I see what you mean.”
“But you’ll have done quite a bit of traveling when we arrive. Perhaps some of your answers will be true by the time you give them.” He uses a slim white card to unlock our door then hands it to me. “We’ll meet for breakfast tomorrow and get started. I’m right across the hall if you need anything. Your new wardrobe should be delivered within the hour. I want us on the plane for Monagasco in two days, so get some rest.”
It’s all moving so fast. My shoulders are tight as we enter the expansive suite. Ava squeals as she runs across to the wide balcony. We have a clear view of the ocean from fourteen floors up, and I peek into the marble-lined bathroom. My jaw drops. It’s as big as the room, and has a shower and a tub!
“We have to celebrate!” Ava’s back, opening the well-stocked mini-fridge and pulling out a pink bottle of Veuve Clicquot Rose. “It’s like we’re living in a dream!”
All the clothes and pampering and tropical gardens distracted my insides, but now I’m back to straight-up worrying. “I don’t know, Aves. What if this is a mistake?”
The cork pops, and she wrinkles her nose at me. “Don’t start that again. We’re helping Reggie take back his country!”
“From some crown prince we know nothing about!” I watch as she pours two tall glasses with pink sparkling wine. “What if he’s really the good guy?”
A clink and she takes a sip. “Mmm,” she smiles, eyes closed. “I’m willing to take that chance.”
I try mine. Not bad. Only very slightly sweet, but mostly crisp and refreshing.
Her eyes pop open again, and she holds my arm. “Listen to me, Zee. We only said we’d go with him. We haven’t made any promises. If we get over there, and it turns out he’s really the bad guy, we’ll leave!” Pressing my lips together, I watch as she lays back on the bed. “In the meantime, we get to go to Europe! And all those clothes…”
“I’m going to talk to Reggie again.” Ava calls after me, but I’m out the door and across the hall banging on Reggie’s door before she can stop me.
A few moments pass, and he opens the door. His navy blazer is gone, and now he’s only in khaki pants and the white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. If not for his posture and the way he carried himself, I would’ve mistaken him for a regular person he’s so casual.
“I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow,” he says, stepping back and allowing me to enter. “Aren’t you tired from all that shopping?”
I’m exhausted, but I’m not letting him deter me from my reason for being here. “We need to talk.”
“Yes, we do. I intend for us to do quite a lot of talking. Tomorrow.” He crosses his room and lifts his own slim glass of pink champagne. “Tonight, order room service, take a hot bath, relax.”
My brow lines, and my fists go to my hips. It’s a defensive stance, but I have to know. “Are you being honest with us, Reggie?”
He sits in the beige chair that matches the one in our room across the hall. “About what?”
The question exasperates me. “All of it. The crown prince, the money—”
“Look.” The cool tone in his voice cuts the heat in the room like ice. “I know you’re used to small-time cons, selfish games, working only for yourself and for the score. Get that out of your head. You’ve gone beyond counting cards and manipulating roulette wheels. This is politics. Government. Lives are at stake. You’re helping to save a country.”
A faint echo follows his last words, then for a moment the only noise is the hum of the window unit. I take a few moments to consider what he said. I think about what little I know of politics and the deals made to run governments. We don’t want to see how it works just as much as we don’t want to see the sausage being made—at least that’s what I’ve heard. Now I’m a part of it.
“But how do I know which is the right side?” I’m not angry. It’s an honest question.
His steel-blue eyes meet mine, all seriousness. “How does anyone ever know that? History will tell us. In the meantime, we simply fight for the right.”
“You make me sound like a hero.”
“You never know.”
Fast-forward to the Ball
An elegant older woman snaps at my escort. “How dare you show your face here tonight?” I have no idea who she is, but she’s someone powerful enough to chastise Reggie.
“Forgive me, your grace.” Reggie bows, and for the first time, I see him genuinely meek.
“Rowan will be furious! You’ll ruin all my plans.” Her eyes flash, and I take a subtle half step behind him, hoping in my black dress I blend into the rave atmosphere.
“Not if I come bearing gifts,” he says, motioning to me. “Would introducing him to the heiress to the Benedict oil fortune appease my nephew’s wrath?”
I actually feel the moment her ice blue eyes spot me. “Come here, girl,” she barks the order, and I dutifully step forward on my needle-thin heels.
“Zelda, may I present the Queen of Monagasco,” Reggie says.
The words make my pulse jump. Holding the side of my dress, I do a careful curtsey, bowing my head. “Your majesty.”
“You’re Zelda Benedict? Daughter of the Texas oil tycoon?”
“Niece, actually, ma’am.” My head is still bowed, both because I don’t want to risk her reading my expression and because I’m not sure when it’s okay to rise.
“That’s enough, you may rise.”
Straightening, I see she’s stepped closer to me. Our eyes are about the same height, which means she’s taller than me. She also bears a striking resemblance to Reggie…
“You’re here to meet my son, is that so?”
“I’m sorry, your majesty, I’m here as a guest of Sir Winston. My… friend and I met him in Texas, and he has been gracious enough to escort us to your beautiful country on a holiday visit—”
“Yes, yes,” she waves a hand between us as if she’s heard enough. “That will do. You might as well get in line with the rest of them. The crown prince has danced with almost every girl here tonight, and I haven’t seen a spark of interest in any of them.” She shakes her head and turns. “Unless you count that first dance with Fredrick’s niece. Of course, he chooses a lesbian to have chemistry with.”
Her statement catches me off-guard, and I almost laugh. “Thank you, ma’am,” I say and do another careful curtsey-bow.
“Come with me, Reggie. I’ll allow you to tell me your plan, and perhaps I can soften my son’s anger.” The woman takes his arm and pulls him away. He looks back and gives me an arched eyebrow and a slight nod.
I flick an eyebrow in response. I know what to do. I have two purposes tonight: to be seen and to make a positive impression. I do my best not to be annoyed every time Reggie emphasizes the word positive, as if I might do otherwise.
With
him gone and everyone focused elsewhere, I take a moment to exhale slowly. We’re here, we’re doing this. The song changes to a dance tune I know from home, and I close my eyes as the beats wash over me like soothing water. If things were different, I’d go out on the floor and give in to the rhythm. As it is…
“Oh!” I yip, nearly jumping out of my skin when a strong hand closes over mine.
“Sorry.” A low, accented voice vibrates near my ear, causing the little hairs to rise on my skin. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Mademoiselle.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say quickly.
He scared the shit out of me, but that luscious accent is to die for. My poker face is firmly intact—until our eyes meet, and I almost forget everything. His are warm hazel with the most irresistible, devilish twinkle in them. He has wavy, light-brown hair that my fingers itch to caress, and he’s wearing a navy military jacket, which surprisingly turns me on. I’ve never been into military men before… most likely because of my checkered past. I run away from men in uniform.
Actually, in the past I’ve done my best to avoid all male entanglements entirely. If I’m going to take care of us, I can’t afford such distractions. Whoever this sexy soldier is, I can tell one thing right away. He’s a player, from the dimple at the corner of his mouth to the scruff dusting his square jaw. He smiles, and my stomach flips.
“I don’t think we’ve met.” That naughty grin grows a little wider. “You’re American?”
I take a step back. Focus on the job, Zelda Wilder. Focus on that ten thousand dollars.
“No,” I say, clearing my throat. “I mean yes! I’m visiting. I’m here with my… friend!”
Jesus! That’s twice I’ve almost said my sister! And I was worried about Ava being confident in her role.
“Visiting?” He slides a warm hand around my waist and pulls me flush against his torso. A brief kiss to my cheek steals my breath. “Is that so? Tell me more.”
A sultry dance song begins, and we sway together. I have to hand it to this guy. He’s good. Still, I’m no rookie, and I force my control back in place. I haven’t worked the angles as long as I have to be thrown off by the first charmer I meet.