“Shots.”
“Peggy?”
“Strobe lights.”
“Marly?”
“Loud synthesizer music.”
Kate sighed. “None of those are going to work. Let’s do adjectives now. Alejandro?”
“Tight, black, zippered.”
“Peg?”
“Sexy.”
“Marly?”
“Wild and crazy.”
Kate nodded. “Okay, those are better. We can work with those.” She chewed on the end of her pen for a moment. “You know, I think I can do a better job on a new marketing concept if I hang out here for a couple of days and just observe.”
Alejandro frowned. “Oh, surely that’s not necessary, Kate. You are a bright woman. You see the basics. I would hate for you to waste your time.”
“It wouldn’t be a waste,” Kate told him. “I’d probably learn a lot and get some good ideas.”
“What’s to learn? Marly cuts hair. Peggy gives massages. The, uh, nail techs do nails. It’s as simple as that.”
“Yes, but I could observe some of your clientele in action,” Kate argued.
“Tell you what,” Peg interrupted. “We’re actually doing a private party next weekend, a customer appreciation night. Why don’t you stop by then?”
Alejandro said quickly, “Kate would hate that.”
Kate stared at him. “Excuse me, but Kate would like that very much, thanks.”
“I just meant…well, that you don’t have anything to wear. It’ll be dressy and Miami-sexy. You can’t show up in khaki pants and those loafers.”
Kate folded her arms across her chest. “Well, I have it on the very best authority that I’m about to buy a pair of purple snakeskin stilettos. Am I not?”
“Er…”
“You know, Alejo, it’s almost like you don’t want me to come. What’s up with that?”
“Of course I want you to come,” he protested. “I just thought you might not be comfortable, that’s all.”
“Tell you what, sport. I’ll make the decisions regarding my comfort, okay?”
“No problema, sport.” He glared at her.
Marly tried to disguise a smile behind her hand, while Peggy just outright snickered.
“I’m so glad you find this entertaining,” Alejandro snapped at them.
Kate capped her pen and stuck it in her pocket. “I’ll continue to brainstorm.” She elbowed her project partner. “And so will he.” Kate undid the flap of her poor abused Hermès bag and shoved the yellow pad inside, to the detriment of both. She made it fit and then shut the purse again.
“But in the meantime, I’ve got some purple snakeskin pumps to buy with my fashion advisor, here.”
Chapter 13
M ierda , mierda , mierda ! Alejandro was going to knock his partners’ heads together until they were flat on one side. How could they have done this to him? Kate couldn’t come to the customer appreciation night! What were they smoking?
His cover would be completely blown. He’d be a laughingstock and Kate would never go out with him again. Not that he’d really taken her out yet. He needed to rectify that. But first, the shoes.
“I was teasing about the purple snakeskin, Kate,” he said, as they left After Hours and walked out to the parking lot.
“I know.” She headed straight for her car, which was, he guessed, the extremely dented, faded, blue 1970s Mercedes-Benz with the lacrosse stick in the rear window. “Where are you going?”
“I thought we were going to buy a pair of shoes?”
“We are. But I’ll drive.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I said I’ll drive. This way.”
“What’s the matter, you don’t like being driven by a woman?”
“That has nothing to do with it. I just happen to know where we’re going.” Actually, he didn’t like being driven by a woman, but he knew it wasn’t smart to admit that to her. He led her to his shiny black Porsche, and opened the door for her.
“My, my,” Kate said, lifting a mocking eyebrow. “We do travel in style, don’t we?”
Yet another reason for giving the damned pedicures. “Get into the car, Señorita Mercedes,” he replied.
“That Mercedes was my grandmother’s.”
“Congratulations. But if you are waiting for me to apologize for driving a nice, new car, you will be waiting a very long time. Just because your money is old, Kate, does not make it better.”
“I never meant—”
“Yes, mi corazon, you did.” But he smiled at her to soften his words. “We are each from very different cultures. Yours may be understated, but that doesn’t make mine wrong or bad. Here in Miami, expensive cars and jewelry are a reflection of prosperity, not bad taste.”
Kate opened and then shut her mouth. Pleased that he’d reduced her to silence, he said, “Now, I am taking you to Miracle Mile, the fanciest shopping district in Coral Gables, if not Miami. So instead of groveling, you can lay waste to your wallet in the name of flashy, south Florida style!”
“Spinneys don’t grovel,” she said.
He burst out laughing. “Of course they don’t. What was I thinking?”
“If you’re going to mock me, you can just let me out at the next corner.”
Alejandro hit the auto-lock button and cranked up the Brazilian song on the radio while he searched for parking. “No, Kate, you won’t get away that easily. You’re going to buy new shoes.”
He found a spot near the most expensive shoe store on the street, parked and tugged out his unwilling passenger. Then he kissed her soundly, right on the curb, a most disgusting display of public affection.
Finally she pushed him off her. “No PDA!” she snapped.
He smirked. Of course a public display of affection would bother her. Holding tightly to her hand, he dragged her into the shoe boutique. When a pretty Latina salesgirl came forward, he said, “We would like to see high-heeled sandals in a size…?” He looked at Kate.
“Do they have to be high?”
“Yes.”
“Seven and a half,” she muttered, looking around her in dismay. “Oh, Christ. I’m in girlie hell. There are even matching purses here.”
“Yes!” Alejandro said, eyeing her ragamuffin Hermès bag with disapproval.
“No,” she said, clinging tight to it.
“You will have to buy an evening bag for the party,” he said in severe tones.
“Why? Who needs an evening bag? I can’t think of anything more useless.”
“For your lipstick and compact, of course you must have one.”
“I don’t wear makeup.”
“Your keys, then. And cellphone.”
“I just shove those in my bra or a pocket.”
Alejandro ignored her and seized an exquisite champagne-colored sandal with tiny rhinestones embedded in the four-inch heels. “This one,” he told the salesgirl.
“That’s not a shoe,” Kate objected. “It’s a piece of art.”
Next he selected a bronze wedge-heeled sandal with an amber rhinestone on the toe. It was funky and cool and not at all her. She tried to explain that, but he flapped a hand at her.
A gorgeous, strappy, emerald-green metallic with silver lining joined the pile, followed by a black satin mule and a delicate pink kitten-heel.
“Nooooo,” Kate moaned. “Spinneys don’t wear pink.”
When he’d chosen about eighteen pairs of shoes for her, he made her sit down and roll her khaki pants to the knees.
The salesgirl took one incredulous look at Kate’s loafers before she sat down and began the fitting process.
The champagne sandals were glorious on Kate, even though she couldn’t walk in them. He took her arm as she wobbled awkwardly to the mirror. “See, I look ridiculous,” she growled. “Like I borrowed the Queen’s dancing shoes.”
“They are beautiful on you,” he said calmly.
“They’re not! My toes stick out of them and look funny.” She wiggled them
.
“Dios mio, everyone’s toes stick out of sandals! That is the whole point of them. It’s far better for your toes to peek out of a sandal than out of the stitching on a mangled loafer.”
“I can’t walk in them.”
“Practice. See, we’re going to walk to the end of the boutique and back again. Put one foot in front of the other. Excellent…”
“My hips are swaying like a hooker’s!” Kate complained. “I can’t wear these. My family would faint.” Then she stopped. Were fainting Spinneys necessarily a bad thing? Wasn’t she becoming Just Kate? Hmm…
“We’ll take them,” Alejandro told the salesgirl.
But before making her final decision, Kate made an unsteady leap for the box and checked the price tag.
“Holy Mother of God! I’m not paying six hundred dollars for a pair of sandals.”
“You are,” Alejandro said. “You won’t feel a thing, I promise. Are fantastically wealthy shampoo heiresses always this cheap?”
“I’m not cheap! I’m frugal.”
“Not today, you’re not. Now be quiet and try on the wedges.”
“Wow, these are actually comfy,” Kate said in shocked tones, once she had them on her feet. “Amazing.”
“Sí, señorita.” The salesgirl smiled at her. “And they are lovely with either skirts or trousers.” She stared fixedly at Kate’s baggy, shapeless pants and said no more.
“But I don’t know if I can get used to metallic shoes or those little tie things around the ankles.”
“You can,” Alejandro assured her. “We’ll take them. And look, Kate, they are only three hundred and eighty-five dollars. A big savings!”
She turned green.
“Now for the black suede peep-toe pumps.” He pulled the box over and handed one to her.
“I’d only wear those for funerals.”
“Nonsense! These are everyday shoes. You wear them with jeans and a studded black belt and a nice big hobo bag.”
“Spinneys don’t wear black in the daytime.”
Alejandro pretended to smack her. “You know, for someone who was so eager to be free of her family, you seem to like their rules a lot.”
She frowned. Savagely, she thrust her feet into the black peep-toes. She took a few steps in them and cocked a hip in front of the mirror. “Fine. I’ll take them.” She looked at the salesgirl. “And do you have a belt?”
“Sí, señorita. I have the perfect belt.” She returned with a monster black suede belt studded with hardware. The thing even cinched with a faux padlock.
Kate stared at it as if it were a poisonous toad. She shut her eyes. “How do you wear that? I mean, what do you wear it with?”
“Señorita, you let me call them at shop across the street. I have them bring you some nice stretch jeans and tops, okay?”
“Sí,” Alejandro told her. “That would be wonderful. Gracias.”
“Did she say stretch?” Kate asked faintly.
“Yes.”
“But Spin—”
“To hell with what the Spinneys do! Are you your own woman, or are you a paper doll who takes orders from some unwritten WASP code?”
She seemed to be staring at the gold chain around his neck. She looked repelled by it. Finally she blinked and looked away. “I’m…my own woman,” she said. “And I’m in Miami now, not Boston.”
“Good.” He seized her and kissed her thoroughly once again. Once again, she pushed him away.
“I’m my own woman, but I don’t like PDA!”
Alejandro threw up his hands. “We’re not in public.”
“No, we’re only on a security video, that’s all.”
The door of the boutique across the street opened and a tiny blonde staggered over with an armload of clothing.
She looked in disbelief at what Kate was wearing and shook her head. In rapid-fire Spanish, she delivered a fashion monologue of which Kate didn’t understand a word. Then the two salesgirls dragged her into the stockroom, since there was no dressing room in the shoe boutique.
“Help!” Kate mouthed at Alejandro. He just waved goodbye to her and grinned. Then he relaxed in one of two leather chairs that were obviously there for the miserable men dragged in by their women. He took a little snooze.
“Mira, mira, señor!” A few minutes later, their original salesgirl clapped her hands and he opened his eyes to see the new Kate. His jaw went slack.
The new Kate wore long, faded stretch jeans with a little Chinese embroidery on one leg, plus the peep-toed skyscraper heels, a tiny, tight, black belly shirt and the black belt with all the hardware. They’d also decked her out in a wide silver cuff bracelet, modern silver earrings and a warm, cinnamon lipstick that brought out the green of her eyes and the red in her crazy, wiry hair. This they’d pinned back on one side with a rhinestone-studded barrette.
She looked stunning. She looked smokin’ hot. She looked like the kind of chick who rode a Harley, delighted in cruelty to men and smoked a cigar while gambling the night away. Best of all, she didn’t look in the least bit available or cheap. Just plain sexy.
“K-Kate?” he said.
“Yup.” She still wobbled a little in the shoes, but the blonde from across the street said, “Mira, señorita. You extend your leg, like so. You use the heel for grace and for height, eh? It is not to be stumbled upon. Find your center of balance, yes? Then take even, smooth strides. Sí! Perfecto. You walk with me.” She took Kate’s arm and they sashayed down the length of the store and then sashayed back.
Dios mio, the sight of Kate dressed like this was killing him. He wanted to throw her on the floor of the boutique and have his way with her, right that instant.
He restrained himself. “We’ll take everything,” he said.
Kate raised her eyebrows at him. “Oh we will, will we? You’re mighty free with my wallet, sport.”
“Somebody has to be.” He remained unperturbed, turning to the salesgirls. “Now, what else have you got?”
“Hey! I’m not buying any more than this. This is bad enough—it’s the equivalent of the average mortgage payment.”
“Kate, you’ve agreed to buy several different pairs of shoes, so you need more than one pair of jeans and a shirt to go with them. Or are you going to wear those fabulous sandals with your Brooks Brothers’ men’s gear?”
The salesgirls hustled her off to the back again, Kate muttering and complaining the whole way.
This time, when they returned with her, she wore a bronze lamb-leather miniskirt with a skin-tight chocolate tank, no bra, and chocolate suede platform heels. They’d put gold dangly earrings on her, and a four-inch wide gold mesh bracelet encircled one thin wrist.
Alejandro had to pick carpet fibers off his tongue after it dragged on the floor, especially since this time Kate vamped playfully in front of the mirror and slapped her tush for him.
The salesgirls giggled. “Esta caliente, no?”
He finally found his voice. “She’ll wear that one out when we leave.”
“No, sport, I’ll wear you out.” Kate sent him a smoldering look and actually tossed her hair at him.
The girls hauled her off to the back again, and she reappeared in a deep emerald-green velvet cocktail dress with an asymmetrical hemline that bared one knee but covered the other leg to mid-calf. Her skin glowed ivory against it, and they’d lined her eyes so they looked darker and more mysterious. The neckline of the dress was the showstopper, though: it plunged in a deep V to the top of her waist, held together under her breasts by only a copper filigree pin. She wore the metallic green strappy sandals with it, and they’d found a tiny bronze evening bag for her.
Alejandro took a deep breath. “You look like a goddess,” he said simply.
She flushed and fiddled with the bag before meeting his gaze again. “No need to go overboard, A. I’m just playing dress-up.”
“I’ll buy that one for her, with the shoes and bag,” he said to the salesgirls. “Will you wrap that up separately?”
“Pay no attention to her,” he said, digging out his wallet and producing a credit card. So it would take months to pay it off—who cared? She looked like a young empress. To him, it was imperative that she have the dress.
“You know, sport, you really tick me off sometimes!” Kate said dangerously. “I can’t accept that from you. It’s not right. And I’m tired of being ordered around.” She turned to the salesgirls. “Let me make this clear to you. You swipe his card, and I won’t buy any of the rest of it. You add those items to my tab. Understand?”
They blinked at her. They looked at him. They looked at each other. They mentally totaled up the thousands of dollars being spent in their respective stores. And they did as she told them.
Alejandro’s blood boiled. It wasn’t that he blamed the girls. He blamed Kate. “You won’t allow me to give you a gift?” He asked the question in deceptively calm tones.
“Alejo, it’s too much.”
“Isn’t that for me to decide, not you?”
“No. It’s one thing to buy me a scarf or a silver bracelet. But this—it’s just not right.”
“Ah. The heiress won’t accept a present from the peasant. Why, because you might feel obligated?”
“Stop it! This has nothing to do with that.”
“This is your once-in-a-lifetime fling with a man who wears a gold chain around his neck, eh? Better keep it casual. I’m just your cheap hunk, a low-class boy toy, a temporary pet. You wouldn’t want to owe me anything.”
“What?” Kate looked shaken. “What are you talking about? I don’t think of you as a pet!”
“Oh, so you’re serious about this relationship?”
“Serious? We don’t even know each other that well!”
His anger and hurt grew. “That’s what I thought.”
“Alejandro, you’re not being reasonable—”
He glowered down at her from his superior height. “Oh, but I’m Latin, remember? We’re not supposed to be reasonable. According to your WASP stereotypes, we’re hotheads, so I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” He opened the shop’s door and stalked out.
Midnight Touch Page 11