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The Devil's Dance

Page 27

by Kristen Lamb


  “You?”

  “Yeah, me. Not so long ago, I was shopping for one of these.” I remembered sifting through stacks of bridal magazines envisioning my perfect day, toes in white sand, wearing an understated yet elegant gown, the sun on my face and the ocean breeze misting my skin and hair with a fine layer of salt. I’d trashed the magazines and my dreams along with them.

  He didn’t say anything, and rested a hand on my shoulder like we were guy pals. I knew we had a lot of secrets to hide, but it sucked that I couldn’t walk hand in hand with the man who said he loved me. It sucked even more I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the same.

  There was a young woman, about my size, browsing the glass counters of Swarovski-encrusted veils. All I could see was her back, her glorious dark hair flowing down and hit nearly above her waist. Even from here I could see the giant rock on her hand. I used to miss that, but now? I didn’t care. I’d take another fake ring so long as the man giving it was real. I wished the unknown woman well, but then she turned and I recognized her.

  I reached for the door, but Sawyer stopped me. “I think we’re shopping for clothes a tad less formal.”

  “My sister’s in there,” I said and shoved past him.

  I tapped her on the arm. “Heather?”

  She beamed like we’d been separated for years. “Romi!” Her grin melted, “What on earth happened to you?” She reached for my bruised cheek, but I brushed her away.

  “I’m fine. Daddy said you were gone, that you were…eloping?” She’d completely changed her appearance. Her hair was a rich chocolate brown and a lot longer, and her teeth professionally whitened. She had long nails and sported an engagement ring so big she could have landed planes on an aircraft carrier. She wore a hot pink designer tracksuit, and a massive pink Louis Vuitton bag hung from her shoulder. A tiny Chihuahua head peeked out of the purse, and Gizmo tried to scrabble out, but Heather stopped her. The dog wore a crystal collar and a little pink doggy outfit that coordinated with my sister’s. The dog’s toes had been painted pink as well.

  At this moment, I was fairly sure hell was pink.

  “Not now, sweetie,” she said to Gizmo. “Mommy’s not finished,” my sister said, baby talking to her dog in that annoying way rich women did. A few heavy diamond tennis bracelets and a charm bracelet jingled on her wrists as she worked the dog back into her purse.

  “Thought you were gone since you moved out and all.” I stared at my sister, unable to wrap my head around how different she looked.

  “Not yet. Been staying at the resort getting prettied up first. Two days to get ready for the wedding, and still not finished,” she replied, her tone exacerbated.

  “They do good work,” I said.

  “The resort has everything. Shops, stylists, salons, you name it. Liam wanted me to have a little vaca before we got hitched.” She frowned. “I was going to invite you to the spa, but Daddy said you were staying with your little boyfriend after the break-in. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  “Brown hair? Your idea?” I asked and fidgeted with the hem of the Hello Kitty hand-me-down I wore.

  She nodded and let out a sorority laugh. “Isn’t it yummy?”

  “Yummy.” I wondered what the Pod People had done with my sister.

  “Wanted something different. I was reading the tabloids when I had my pedicure. Saw Cameron Diaz had gone brown and thought, why not? If Cameron can pull it off, I can. You like?”

  “Will take some getting used to.”

  “Liam adores my blonde hair, but he’ll have to get used to the new me, too.”

  Heather and I were so similar, and I wondered if this is what I would’ve looked like if I’d given into Phil and traded in my naturally blonde hair. I noted Heather’s French-tipped toes peeking out of gold Manolo Blahnik wedge sandals.

  “Even had some extensions added so the big day’s perfect.” She flipped her hands through her hair again, making me want to slap her.

  “Where are you eloping?” I asked even though I didn’t want to know.

  “Grand Cayman. I would have invited you but…”

  “I understand.” I felt like I’d been stabbed, but I put on my bravest face.

  “Oh Romi,” she said, pouting her glossy lips. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, and you know Daddy and Nana would only screw it up. If I invited you, I’d hurt their feelings.”

  I nodded. “I get that. Take lots of pictures,” I said trying not to cry. “Who’s the lucky guy? Dad says he works in the oil field.”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “That’s so Daddy. He’s so ridiculous. When I say I’m marrying a man in the oil business, naturally he’d assume it must be some filthy roughneck. Because not like I could do better. Oh, you could, because you’re smart, but not me.” Her voice trembled.

  “That’s Daddy. But it wasn’t always easiest being the smart one. Nana once told me I better hit the books because I wasn’t pretty like you.”

  “See what I mean? I have to get away. Not you rescuing me, but my own way. I hope you understand.”

  “I do.”

  I noticed she spoke very differently. She’d lost the trailer park twang and sounded rich girl silly. “How’d you meet?” I asked.

  “Long boring story. Liam was called to bring his geologists in to check for oil and natural gas in the area. This was before the boom.”

  Were you doing him, too? I hated myself for judging my sister but had a tough time absorbing everything I’d learned. “A few years, then,” I said, trying to make small talk and hide that I wanted to run out the door and hurl myself into oncoming traffic.

  “A few too long. Thoolen and others wanted to build, but they had to make sure that, if there was petroleum, that they secured mineral rights when they purchased the property.” She resumed baby talking to her dog. “But there was no oil. Was there, sweetie?” She scratched the dog’s neck.

  “Don’t want to leave money on the table, I suppose.” I was ready to hang myself with an overpriced wedding veil.

  “Anyway.” She flipped her glorious hair yet again then rummaged through her handbag for a Swarovski crystal-coated iPhone to turn off a ringtone alert. Some bright bubblegum pop song about clubbing.

  I wondered if Sawyer would shoot me. It would be a mercy-killing.

  Heather continued. “I met Liam when I was working at the Piggle Wiggle. He asked for my number and we’ve been together since. Long distance, but my honey promised he’d make it up to me, and he so has,” she said. She checked her phone for the time even though she wore a heavy Presidential Rolex with a pink face and diamonds around the bezel. She gave an exaggerated frown. “Sorry, Romi. We’ll have to talk later. I have a facial at Bellezza Eterna and Georgette is the best. Had to beg a friend to even get me on the waiting list. Georgette’s booked months in advance.”

  “I understand.” I didn’t, but said it anyway.

  She lovingly squeezed my shoulder and I fought not to pull away. “And Nana told you that you don’t start work until Friday, right? Do you need more time? I can tell them—”

  “I’m good.” I coerced a smile. “Thanks.”

  “I sent my uniforms to the cleaners for you. All you have to do is pick them up. Bill’s already paid.” She scribbled out the name of the cleaners on one of the bridal store’s business cards and handed it to me with a handful of twenties. “And go to Clark’s for shoes. They’re the best for being on your feet for long hours.”

  “Good to know,” I said, trying not to cry.

  She gave another cheerleader pout. “I did ask Liam if we could find you a better job, but he’s dead-set against nepotism. My honey’s straight as a ruler.” She leaned close and whispered, “We haven’t even had sex. Wants to wait until we’re married. Catholics.” She made a face then the fake smile returned. “But we all make our sacrifices differently, I suppose. I’ll keep an eye out for a better job for you. I have all kinds of friends who’d snag you up.”

  Like Thoolen and Mayor Ferr
is? I didn’t say anything.

  Heather scooped out her car keys. I noticed they went to a Mercedes. She reached in her bag for another set of keys and handed them to me. “Here are the keys to the truck. It isn’t the best, but I had the interior completely redone for you and the engine rebuilt. It runs like new and will get you around in the meantime until I can arrange something better for you.”

  “Thanks,” I said and shoved the cash and keys in my purse.

  “This is just temporary, Romi. You’re too smart to be pushing a vacuum,” she said.

  “You too,” I said.

  “No more vacuums for me. I did my time. And who knows? That fancy degree of yours could come in handy eventually.”

  “Hope so.”

  Heather stroked Gizmo’s head. “It is weird though,” she said in a faraway voice.

  “What is?”

  She stared at me a long moment, scanning my outfit. “It seems like we’ve traded lives.” She cocked her head and her smile reminded me of a snake. Not a real smile, rather an imitation of a smile, an upturning of the mouth. Her sea glass eyes glinted with triumph. “At least you get the new trailer, right?”

  “Seems that way. Thanks for taking care of me. Wish you the best.”

  Heather gave me an air-kiss and waved. “Toodles.”

  I stood there as if stunned from a shock blast. I couldn’t think or move or react. A moment later, Sawyer materialized from behind a large rack of gowns and whispered in my ear, “I can shoot her for you.”

  “No. It’s fine,” I said, even though it wasn’t. “She’s lived a hard life. She deserves this,” I said and really, really wanted to believe it.

  An older woman politely coughed to get our attention. She stood behind a counter with a small selection of diamond jewelry. An assistant was already removing the stones and walking back to what I presumed was a safe. “Can I help you find anything?”

  “No, not today,” I said.

  “We’re closing.” I took the clerk’s not-so-gentle hint, and walked outside for some air. I stepped out the door in time to see Heather drive away in a gold Mercedes coupe convertible with vanity plates MYGIRL.

  “What the hell happened to your sister?” Sawyer asked.

  “No idea, though alien abduction crossed my mind.” The sun had settled behind the low mountains and lines of hungry patrons were already forming around the nearby restaurants.

  “She doesn’t even talk the same,” he said.

  “She’s been working for the wealthy for how long? And few things make you change like an ensemble that costs the same as a house. Gives you confidence when you feel rich and pretty, at least I vaguely remember it did.”

  He scowled. “Please tell me—”

  “No, I was never that annoying. Saw no sense in paying thousands of dollars to be some designer’s billboard. But I was always the more conservative of the two of us.”

  “I’d already gleaned that.”

  “Always thought those tracksuits were the uniform of trampy trophy wives.” I stammered, “I didn’t mean to sound bitchy. I worked in a corporation. Fairly safe to say no one would have taken me seriously in a hot pink tracksuit.”

  “Knew what you meant.”

  “And never been a fan of the ‘across-the-butt-writing.’ Juicy? Um, ew.”

  Sawyer laughed. “Where do we shop, then?”

  “Good question. Nothing here’s going to be practical, and most of the shops are closed.” The last thing I wanted to do in the world was shop. I wanted to lock myself in the bathroom and cry into a bottle of cabernet. I started toward Sawyer’s Suburban and he followed a few steps behind. I felt ill and hated that I didn’t feel happy for Heather at all.

  I slipped inside the truck and fastened my seatbelt, the scene in the boutique flashing in my mind like a horror movie.

  He started the engine. “Is it me, or did your sister seem more than a little too happy to hand you her old life?”

  “She’s done more than enough.” Trust me. “I have a job, uniforms, shoe money, a place to stay and now my own wheels freshly redone.” I dangled the truck keys. “She didn’t have to do any of that.”

  “Heather’s not fooling me and neither are you.”

  “What?” I stared out the window. Palm trees and buildings shimmered with strings of white lights in the gathering dark. I never thought Bisby could be so beautiful, yet strangely missed the way it used to be. Same with my sister.

  “With all due respect, she was a total bitch,” he said as he backed out of the parking space. “If she’s marrying the kind of money to dress like that and drive an eighty-thousand-dollar car, she could have done better if she wasn’t busy knifing you.”

  I shrugged and crossed my arms, wishing he’d talk about something different. “She said she planned on arranging something better, whatever that means.”

  “Has there been bad blood between you guys? Any rivalry?” he asked in a way that made me expect him to pull out his little pad and start making notes.

  “No, Agent Sawyer. Not that I knew about.”

  “Romi, I’ve been doing this long enough to know something’s up.”

  “She was the pretty one and I was the smart one. Was always a wedge.” I folded my arms and slunk down in my seat. Talking was the last thing I wanted to do and Sawyer, who rarely talked, now wouldn’t shut up.

  “But you two look so similar. Similar build, height, bone structure, hair, eyes.”

  “For God’s sake. Stop saying that. I look like everyone. My mom, my sister, some stranger from Virginia.”

  “Romi—”

  “Why can’t I just look like me? What’s so wrong with me ?” I was contemplating purple hair and a nose ring.

  “Work with me here. And you don’t look exactly like either of them, just close enough for government work. Most people don’t pay attention to detail.”

  “Whatever. My family felt better with labels, but I know she resented that I did a lot better in school. Again, Heather was the pretty one and I was smart one. Stung on both ends I’m sure.” I helped myself to two Vicodin to numb the physical pain and maybe even dull the ache in my heart. “When I first left, I wanted her to come along, but she wasn’t willing to up and leave. Was hard to blame her.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Took me four years to get my degree, and I was throwing papers and living off tuna and saltines praying the lights would stay on. Once I could support both of us, I pleaded with her to join me. Even offered to pay for college, but…”

  “But?”

  “She’d dropped out of high school to support the family. Daddy’s income was too unpredictable. I offered to help her get a GED.”

  “What happened?”

  “She got super pissed and said she wasn’t smart like me, and I never mentioned it again.”

  “Is she?”

  “Is she what?”

  “Smart like you,” he said.

  “She’s sharp. Smart, but a different smart. I was book smart and Heather was always more street smart.”

  “You seem pretty street smart to me.”

  “Maybe. My couple years at Verify are the only times I haven’t lived hand-to-mouth, waiting for my car to be stolen. And, I fell for Phil’s lies. Heather would’ve seen right through him.”

  “When did you offer to pay for her school? To move in with you?”

  “When I started working for Verify. Didn’t have any money before that. We’d talked about it and she said she understood and moved on. Guess she had. She’d met Liam.”

  Sawyer drove out of town and headed toward the highway. I noted that only a few stars sparked to life, the rest obscured by boomtown glow. I hated myself for not appreciating my home, for wanting to change it, never realizing how much would go away forever. There wasn’t a road we drove that wasn’t littered with dead wildlife. A freshly killed owl lay still on the shoulder. Had probably been diving for a mouse and met with a windshield instead. The soft blanket of silence retreated
more and more each day, replaced by the sounds of traffic, people and construction.

  A long good-bye.

  “If her boyfriend was so rich, why’d he let her live in a trailer? He could have put her up in a condo.” Sawyer’s voice broke my quiet melancholy.

  “She needed her own money and a ring.”

  “What?”

  “Talk is cheap. A man can promise the moon. Means nothing unless there’s a ring. Like I said, Heather’s street smart. She knew if she let him pay for her to live in a condo…”

  “She’d be a mistress not a wife.”

  “Nothing to protect her from being dropped back in the trailer park he sprung her from. Now? If he dumped her, she could sell her ring alone and have money to buy her own condo.” I let out a tired laugh.

  “What’s funny?”

  “She could as long as the ring is real. Mine was moissanite.” Embarrassment twisted inside me. What a fool I’d been, so proud of a piece of fancy glass.

  “Moissanite?”

  “Man-made diamond. Looks like a sixty-thousand-dollar-ring, but retails for about six. Worth way less than a thousand in a pawnshop.” I rubbed my left hand, remembering its weight. “Ask me how I know.”

 

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