Izzy As Is

by Tracie Banister

  ‘It would stress Pilar out to have a bunch of strangers tromping through her house/yard. Family does for family. I thought you wanted to be a part of this one. Was I wrong?’

  ‘Of course not. I disappointed you today and for that I am truly sorry, cariño, but you know how crazy things are right now with Sandoval buying GBC.’

  I do know because he’s been using this as an excuse for leaving me in the lurch for weeks now. He’s been so busy with work and this buyout of the Guzman Beverage Company that I’ve been shouldering the burden of renovating/decorating our future home and making all the decisions about our wedding by myself. I’ve tried to include him in both processes by asking his opinion on everything from paint colors to the size of our bridal party, but he just says, “Do whatever you think is best,” which makes me feel like he doesn’t give a damn about any of it. Where’s the fun-loving, flirtatious Eduardo who swept me off my feet with thoughtful, romantic gestures, the one who was interested in spending as much time as possible with me, the one who did everything he could to make me happy? He vanished when we went to the Dominican Republic, then came back to propose and make a bunch of false promises only to disappear on me when we returned home and he got mired in business once again.

  As I’m mulling over what to say in response to Eduardo, a reminder pops up on my screen. Shoot, I didn’t realize it was that time already! I’ll have to hash this out with my neglectful fiancé later.

  ‘Gotta go. I have one last party surprise for Gabi and her guests.’

  Turning off my phone, I stuff it in my pants’ pocket, then wave Topaz and Nacho, who’s got as much chocolate on his face as any of the kids, over for a huddle with Zane and me.

  “As soon as Gabi’s done opening presents, which should be soon, I need you guys to gather up all the girls and have them sit in the grass off to the side of the patio; that’ll be the stage area for the show.”

  “Do you want us to hype it up?” Topaz wonders. “Get the kids excited about what’s going to happen?”

  “No, I’d rather surprise everybody. I didn’t even tell Ford and Pilar about this.” Let’s just hope this is a surprise of the pleasant variety and not a total disaster; I’m taking a bit of a risk with the performers I hired. “I need to meet the talent,” I make air quotes, “at the front door. Have you got this?”

  Z gives me a thumbs up while Topaz nods and Nacho licks some frosting off a cupcake wrapper.

  I leave my friends and make my way back into the house, entering the kitchen through the French doors and heading straight for the corridor that will take me to the foyer. When I get there, I unbolt the door and fling it open to find my cousin and her boss waiting on the stoop.

  “Ka-caw, ka-caw,” Sancha squawks, flapping her arms, which are encased in black leather gloves that come up to her armpits and have feather-y wings hanging from them.

  “Yeah, don’t do that. You’re supposed to be a raven, not a crow,” I remind her, then stand back and gesture for the pair to enter.

  “But you like the costume, right?” Sancha asks as she brushes past me in thigh-high boots. The rest of her outfit consists of a sheer black tutu over a leather leotard that has feathers around the neckline.

  “It’s a little dominatrix-ish, but it works.” Who knew my cousin had all this leather in her closet? It’s always the mousy ones . . .

  “I didn’t have a template to follow like Ricardo did with his outfit since the raven on Sofia the First is an actual bird, not a person dressed up to look like one. Oh, sorry, I forgot you two haven’t met before. Ricardo,” she waves a hand at the man who’s just wheeled in a large, blue trunk covered in twinkling stars, “this is my cousin, Izzy. Izzy, this is my mentor in the world of magic, Ricardo, the Remarkable.”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” He wags a finger at her. “Today, I am Cedric, the Sensational, Royal Sorcerer of Enchancia.” With a dramatic sweep of his arm, he bends at the waist, giving me an elegant bow.

  “Good job with the snooty accent, but this scarf,” I indicate the chartreuse-colored piece of silk wrapped around his neck, “is looking kind of ascot-y, which is all wrong. Do you mind?” I ask the question as a courtesy, not bothering to wait for a response before I pounce on the magician and start rearranging his scarf in Cedric fashion. Once it’s tied in a nice, tight, little bow, I move onto the black wig Ricardo’s wearing, adjusting it so that the shock of silver hair in the front is positioned properly in the center of his forehead. (I was the one who spray painted the wig, giving it that Pepé Le Pew appearance. And people thought I’d never use that art degree of mine!)

  I take a few steps back to survey my handiwork. “Sara’s team pulled out all the stops with that robe,” I comment on the royal purple garment with bell sleeves that Ricardo’s wearing over his other layers of clothing. “It looks really luxe. I just hope it’s not too heavy, or you’re going to roast outside. You might want to cast an anti-sweating spell,” I joke, nudging him in the ribs with my elbow.

  “Oh, thanks for reminding me . . .” Sancha dips her hand in her purse and pulls out a compact of pressed powder, which she proceeds to dab all over her boss’s face. She follows that with some bronzer and a spritz of sunscreen. You’d think the guy was about to go on TV, not work a kid’s birthday party!

  “Let’s roll,” I command before Sancha starts trimming Ricardo’s nose hairs. As I lead the two of them back through the house to the kitchen, I tell my cousin, “I’m going to introduce you as Wildwood, sister to Cedric’s pet raven, Wormwood. I’ll say that he’s busy back at the castle, working on another evil plan to steal Sofia’s amulet for his master.”

  “Okay.” Sancha digests this while chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip, which is covered in a blood red lipstick she outlined with the same black pencil she used on her heavily made-up eyes. “Am I supposed to be evil and scheming, too?”

  “Since you’ve already Black Swan-ed yourself up with the dark, dramatic eyes and lips, I think evil is your only option.” We’ve reached the French doors, so I stop to give them one final note. “If one of your tricks doesn’t go as planned, just play along with it. Cedric has performance issues when he gets nervous, and him throwing a hissy every time he screws up is a running gag on the show.”

  “Presto wando!” Ricardo flings his arm out and a purple wand tipped in silver flies across the room, only missing Sancha’s eye because she reflexively twists her head to the side. “Blast!” Ricardo exclaims, stomping his foot. “I am too powerful for that flimsy wand.”

  Extending his other arm, he chants, “My magic is mighty, my position royal, give me a sturdier wand so my spells won’t be foiled.” He flicks his wrist and a bouquet of flowers appears. Ricardo recoils in surprise, glares at the flowers, then turns to me and says in a deadpan voice, “I meant to do that,” which makes me chuckle.

  This magic show might be a hit with the kids after all!

  CHAPTER 28

  I stride purposefully through the door of Sandoval Spirits and hang a right by the front desk.

  “Cute coat!” Karla, the receptionist, calls out, and I toss a thanks back over my shoulder, but don’t stop to chat because I am a woman on a mission. Eduardo’s job is always distracting him from me, so I’ve decided it’s time I distracted him from his job and I’ve come prepared to do just that.

  Finding the ever-dutiful Gina at her desk, I hand her a box that contains a sampling of the desserts left over from Gabi’s birthday party, secure her promise that she’ll make certain Eduardo isn’t interrupted for the next half-hour, then proceed to his office where I dispense with the formality of knocking. I am his fiancée after all, a position that comes with certain rights and privileges.

  “Hola, mi rey,” I say after I’ve swept into the room and flung my purse down in one of the chairs facing his desk. Eduardo loves it when I call him “my king,” so I thought I’d start things off on the right foot.

  He glances up from his computer screen, his brow creasing with confusion. “Isidora, what
are you doing here?”

  “I told Gina we had important wedding matters to discuss.”

  He frowns, something he’s been doing a lot of lately and I can’t help but notice the toll all the recent job-related stress and fatigue have taken on his handsome face, which is now marred by dark circles, worry lines, and an unnatural pallor. He looks like he’s aged a decade since we met, and I don’t think it’s healthy the way he’s been pushing himself.

  “I’m sorry,” he scrubs his cheek, which is sporting a midday shadow, with his hand, “but I’ve got an important meeting about the buyout at two and there’s a ton of information I need to review beforehand. I just don’t have time for wedding planning right now.” A ding on his computer signals an incoming e-mail and he clicks on his mouse to open the message, leaning forward in his chair to read it. Great, he’s probably going to need glasses soon from all the eye strain, and that’s not a look I’m into on men.

  Unbelting my fuchsia-colored Michael Kors trench coat, I pull it open and let the garment slide back off my shoulders. “Do you have time for this?” I purr in my sultriest tone.

  “Huh?” Eduardo lifts his eyes from the computer, and they widen in shock when he sees what I’m wearing (or not wearing if you want to be technical about it because all I’ve got on is a leopard print push-up bra with matching panties, both of which are edged in pink lace. The panties have garters with pink and black bows that are attached to sheer black thigh-highs, and I finished off the look with my sexiest pair of stilettos). “Wow,” Eduardo exhales the word along with a puff of air, clearly having forgotten to breathe for a second. “Is this a preview of things to come for our honeymoon?”

  “Why save all the fun until then?” I ask archly, then strut around to the other side of the desk so that I’m standing just out of reach next to his chair, which he quickly swiveled to the side as soon as I began my approach. (Ha! Take that stupid computer! I’m the one who’s got his attention now.) “Do you like?” I gesture at my scantily clad body.

  His eyes roam hungrily over my curves before he replies, “Like doesn’t begin to cover my feelings about you in this lingerie. God,” he groans, grabbing a thigh in each hand and pulling me close, “garters are such a turn-on.” He slips his thumbs underneath the frilly bits of elastic that are holding up my stockings and starts stroking my skin.

  I cup his face in my hands and bend down to kiss him, our lips and tongues fusing heatedly while I straddle the chair and lower myself down onto his lap. Eduardo’s hands immediately go to my tetas, and who can blame him, they do look amazing, hiked up and on the verge of bursting out of the cups of my bra, the sheer fabric revealing a tantalizing glimpse of what’s beneath. So, I let him have his fun fondling them and teasing their tips into hardended peaks for a minute or two, but I’m mindful of the fact that we’re on the clock and I have to make the most of the interruption-free time Gina’s given us.

  Eager to get this soon-to-be-X-rated show on the road, I loosen his tie and begin to unbutton his pale pink dress shirt. I’ve only gotten two undone when he jerks his head back, wrenching our mouths apart. Although his lust-glazed eyes and rapidly beating heart, which I can feel pulsing against my fingertips, tell me that he’s been thoroughly enjoying the foreplay, he pants, “I’m not sure . . . this . . . is a good . . . idea.”

  “I don’t know.” I look down at the brown leather executive chair we’re currently perched on. “These might be tight quarters for sex, but I think we can manage. This seat has some nice cushioning, which will serve us well; it almost feels like we’re on a mattress.” I proceed to demonstrate by bouncing up and down on his lap.

  He groans, but I’m unclear as to whether that means he likes me using him as a human trampoline or not. “Stop, please.” He clamps his hands down on my thighs to still me. “You’re just making it worse.”

  “Making what— Oh!” I realize what he’s talking about when he casts his eyes downward to his crotch, which now has a very enticing bulge.

  With a sly smile, I tell him, “I can fix that,” then lower my hands to his belt buckle, where I yank the strip of expensive Italian leather through the loop and . . .

  “Mi amada.” He keeps my industrious hands from completing their task, clasping them together in a prayerful pose. “As tempting as you are and as much as I’d like to see this through to what I’m certain would be a very satisfying conclusion, I really don’t think this is the place. This is where I work, not play.”

  I lean into him, pressing my boobs up against his chest while I kiss a trail from his ear to his chin, leaving behind the same smears of neon pink lipstick that are already covering his mouth. “You’re el jefe,” I murmur the words against his lips when I get to them, “and this is your office where you can do whatever you want. So, do me.”

  I feel his lips curve against mine into a smile. “You’re a hard woman to say ‘no’ to, do you know that?”

  I chuckle. “Hard being the operative word. I think it’s past time for esta salchicha picante to be unwrapped.” My hands reach down for his partially undone belt, and yes, I do sometimes refer to Eduardo’s manhood as a spicy sausage (seems appropriate as it does bear more than a passing resemblance to a chorizo).

  “What about Gina?” Eduardo furtively whispers his assistant’s name while inclining his head toward the office’s exit. “She’s just a few feet outside that door. She might hear something.”

  “Nah, I gave her a crazy amount of cookies, truffles, and cupcakes and she has no restraint when it comes to sweets, so she’s probably passed out on her desk in a sugar coma right now.”

  He furrows his brow. “That’s not good. I need her to be alert and on her game for my big meeting—¡Ay, mierda! I forgot about the meeting. What time is it?” He tries to twist his head around to look at the clock on his computer, but I grab his chin and force him to keep his eyes on me.

  “Don’t worry,” I say soothingly before giving him a soft, teasing kiss with just enough tongue to leave him wanting more. “You’ve got plenty of time, and I have no doubt you’re very well-prepared. What you need now so that you can walk into that meeting feeling totally chill and confident,” I slide my pelvis forward so that my girl parts can become better acquainted with his growing-more-impressive-by-the-second erection, “is a little physical release.” I rub my hands from his belly up to his pecs and back down again.

  I know that I’ve sold him on the idea of a quickie when he envelopes me in his arms and crushes our bodies together while capturing my lips in a hot, wet, frantic-with-need kiss. As he devours my mouth, he loosens one hand so that it can seek out my breast, closing over the already aroused nipple and kneading the mound of flesh with the perfect amount of pressure that sends a delicious ache of desire shooting right down to my groin.

  “What are you hiding in here?” Eduardo breathes the words into my mouth a few seconds later when his travelling fingers encounter something that’s not as soft and yielding as my flesh. He slips those fingers into the side of my bra and pulls out a blue and purple foil wrapper.

  “A girl has to come prepared for a seduction, doesn’t she?” I query, with a smirk.

  He squints at the writing on the wrapper. “Fire and Ice?”

  “I thought it would be fun to try something different.” If it were up to him, we’d use the most basic, no-frills condom every time, which does the job, but it also makes sex a little boring after a while. “This is supposed to give us both warming and tingling sensations.”

  His expression is skeptical and maybe even trepidatious. Good thing I didn’t bring one of the studded condoms I bought; that would have really freaked him out!

  “Come on, baby, be adventurous,” I urge.

  He raises a dark eyebrow. “Getting it on here in my office in the middle of the workday isn’t adventurous enough for you?”

  “It’s definitely a step in the right direction.” I give credit where credit is due. “And I’d be willing to bet that you’re going to love how that
Fire and Ice condom makes la salchicha feel. Let’s take it for a test run.” My eyes stay locked on Eduardo’s as I make quick work of his belt and the button at the top of his fly. Licking my lips in anticipation, I begin to gently ease down his zipper, which probably seems like torture to him, but I don’t want to damage the engorged goods before I get to experience the benefits of them.

  His dark eyes burning with desire, Eduardo grabs me roughly by the shoulders (I’m into it!), yanks down my bra strap, then pushes up my breast from underneath so that it spills right out of the cup into his eager mouth. I clutch his head to my breast, digging my fingers into his thick black hair as my head lolls back and my eyes drift shut. Somewhere out on the periphery of my senses, I hear a noise that sounds like a light rapping, but I dismiss it as just being my hormone-revved up heart pounding in my ears. Turns out I’m wrong.

  “Gina’s not at her desk, and I have—”

  I open my eyes to see Gillian standing in the doorway, her face frozen in horror at what she’s walked in on. I suppose it is the stuff of nightmares from her point of view. The man she loves has a gorgeous, half-naked woman in his lap, he’s got a condom clutched in his hand and a mouthful of the sexpot’s bountiful boob—it’s pretty damn obvious what’s about to happen. So, why doesn’t she shriek and run out of the room? I don’t think she’s even blinked since she saw us. Has she gone catatonic from the trauma?

  “¡Ay, Dios mío!” Eduardo has finally realized we’re not alone. He looks panicked as he fumbles to stuff my bare breast back into the bra. “Gillian . . .” his voice sounds pained and if I didn’t know better, I’d say guilty, as he turns toward her.

  Hearing her name snaps Gillian out of her fugue state, she blushes fiercely and immediately drops her eyes to the floor. “I’m so s-s-s-sorry,” she stutters, clearly overcome with emotion. “I thought you were prepping for the meeting and I wanted to show you how I reworded that problematic clause— It doesn’t matter.” She starts to back out of the room. “I-I-I-I’ll see you in the conference room later.”