“If I tell you, do you promise you’ll let me get back to work? Brooke needs the social media blitz to all go out this afternoon, and I’m already behind schedule.”
He sat on the edge of her table with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His wide, charming smile was almost hypnotic. “Maybe.”
She sighed and shut her laptop closed. “Ligia.” Her eyebrow lifted in a suggestive arch. “Now, I really do need to get back to work.”
His smile widened. “Ligia... I like it. Where are you from? I dig your accent.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Brazil. And, seriously, later. Okay?”
He touched her arm with the tips of his fingers and let them linger. “Now that I know your name, don’t you want to know mine? Isn’t that polite thing to do? C’mon, ask me my name.”
A faint blush spread across Ligia's face. She pushed the lid of her laptop back up and cleared her throat, but didn’t say anything.
“Well, since you aren’t going to ask me.” He laughed and sat down backward on one of the chairs next to her. “My name is Carlos, and I’m a junior at the University of Austin. And you’re a freshman, am I right?”
Ligia looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “You go to University of Austin?”
Carlos chuckled “Yeah, I’m an English Major. Not just some uneducated grease monkey.” The teasing tone and smile had the desired effect.
Ligia blushed and looked away. “I wasn’t implying—”
A smile snaked across his lips until it took up his whole face, dimples and all. “Of course you weren't.” His pointer finger ran down her bare arm. “Are you going to this thing?”
Ligia seemed noncommittal to his obvious advances as she tapped on her keyboard. “Yeah.” She bit her lip to mask the smile that creeped along the edges of her bow shaped lips.
“Save me a dance.”
Carlos’s persistence made her think of Marcus and how he had been when they first met at the Bureau. Things had been so much simpler then, back before… The ladder shifted underneath her bottom, breaking Annabeth from her daydream. Her eyes shot up just in time to see Vi lose her footing.
Carlos, who had been only a yard away, reached over just in time to catch Vi as she fell.
“Oh no!” Annabeth cupped her open mouth and sucked in a startled breath. “I’m so sorry, Vi! Are you okay?”
Vi’s hand rested on her chest. “Oh my gosh, that was scary! I think I’m okay. Thank you!”
Carlos smiled wide—laying on the charm. “No problem, ma’am. Catching an angel like yourself is all my pleasure.”
He was laying it on pretty thick. What was his angle? Did he think he would increase his odds of getting laid by flirting with everyone within a three-block radius?
She narrowed her eyes on him. “I think you can put her down now.”
Vi shot her a ‘mind your own business’ look.
Annabeth stifled a laugh behind the back of her hand. Who was she to begrudge Vi enjoying a little attention from a good looking guy, even if he was at least five years younger?
Carlos placed Vi’s feet on the ground with great care. “Let me help you finish this up. I work on ladders all day. I can get the job done pretty quick.” He gave Vi a suggestive wink. “And I think the guys can spare me a few minutes while I come to the aid of you beautiful ladies.”
Vi blushed. “Thank you.”
Annabeth couldn’t help but roll her eyes. This guy’s act—like too much good cologne—was almost noxious. Vi seemed to eat it up with a spoon, though.
He held up his pointer finger, a sly smile on his face. “I’ll help save the day, but only if you agree to hold the ladder for me. Your friend is in no position to do this, but I bet the beautiful Ligia can use her help with that computer she keeps hiding behind,” he said, this time tossing a wink back across the room toward Ligia.
Okay, okay, enough with the winking already.
Ligia frowned. “I really could use some help if you don’t mind.”
She plopped down onto one of the chairs at the table. Ligia handed her a stack of papers. “I know you’re a little limited with your injury, but do you think you can tri-fold these brochures?”
“Yeah, I think I can handle that.” Annabeth took the stack and soon got into the groove so that she could do it without even looking. In the center of the room, Brooke and Jesse stood suspiciously close to each other. As a trained profiler she couldn't help but analyze their micro-expressions and body language.
What's the deal with them?
If she didn't know better she would think they were an item.
Vi walked over to the table and sat down next to Annabeth and Ligia, letting out a deep sigh. “It’s been a long day. I can’t wait to get home and put my feet up.” She rotated her head making it pop and crack. Before Annabeth could respond, Brooke stepped up to the table with a plastic pageant girl smile. “Ladies, y’all have been such a help the last few days. The place looks amazing. I really couldn’t have done it without you.”
Vi, ever the eager beaver, chimed right in. “We’re happy to help.”
Annabeth gave Brooke a half smile. It was all she could muster.
Brooke clasped her hands together in a classic OM pose. “So... I was thinking that since y’all are going to the event, we should get our hair and makeup done up together tomorrow afternoon.”
Annabeth generally avoided all things primping. Messy buns, band T-shirts, ripped jeans, and Converse tennis shoes were her usual go-to. Even when she had to go into the Bureau, she had worn simple pants suits.
With everything on her mind, this little detail of what to wear to the event had slipped her mind. “Crap,” she said under her breath.
Brooke hugged her clipboard to her chest and looked each of the girls in the eye. “I won’t take no for an answer. Trudy is expecting us at three p.m.” Brooke straightened her spine and looked down at them over the tip of her nose. “Oh and you need to be here at the Book Cellar no later than six for last minute instructions and to man your post.”
Annabeth stifled a laugh. She wasn’t asking. No, the queen had made a decree—hear ye, hear ye. Go forth and get pretty.
Brooke about-faced on her three inch heels and took off in the direction of Carlos, who had returned to work on the sound equipment with the rest of the team. They still hadn't finished the job.
Ligia elbowed Annabeth. “What was that about?”
“I just now realized that I don’t have anything to wear to this thing.”
Ligia oozed excitement. “Oh-oh! I can help you out with that. You look like you’re my size. I have the perfect dress for you. I was going to drop it in one of those donation bin thingies, but I can see you need it more than the homeless do. It’s totally last season, but you strike me as a girl you doesn't care too much about that. Am I right?”
Annabeth chucked. “Yes. Thank you. That would be a real help.”
“No worries. I’ll go get it now so I don't forget. I have a class in an hour.” She got up and stretched.
“What’s the class?”
“Women in Politics. I want to major in business but maybe minor in Women’s Studies. My dad wants me to go pre-law and my mama just wants me to find a nice guy, settle down, do the whole wifey-wife thing.”
“What do you want?”
Ligia paused for a moment. Her long eyelashes fluttered and her lips pursed. “I’d love to have my own business, but my mama said no man wants to marry an entrepreneur.” The girl shook her head and smiled. “Anyway, let me get that dress for you. Hey—are you a size six shoe?”
Annabeth nodded with surprise. “Yes, actually I am.”
Ligia squealed. “Oh what fun. You can be my little project. I know I have some shoes for you as well.”
“Wow, thanks.” Annabeth let out a breath of relief, choosing to ignore the whole project business.
As Ligia took off, Vi slid into the seat beside her. “I’m sorry.”
Annabeth let out a l
oud exhale. “I know.”
Vi wrung her hands in her lap. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Except for Jesse and Brooke and—”
Annabeth held up her hand. “I’d like to be friends with you too, but things like that take time... I mean... I don’t know. This whole experience has been so surreal. Why did she want to break into my house?”
“Well technically we didn't break in since I used the key you gave me.”
She couldn't believe her ears. Was she really trying to split hairs with her over the semantics of breaking in? She could have both their butts in jail by day’s end, if she wanted.
“Wait a minute...The false alarm that the police officer mentioned to me was about my house!”
Vi turned bright red and looked away. “Yes. We didn’t know you had an alarm and we must have tripped it. The cops came. It was awful. I got sick. Brooke felt up the cop and gave him my number. He’s called me like three times.”
The people of this town were a few fries short of a happy meal.
I need to get the heck out of here before I become one of them!
Whenever the crap hit the fan, her first instinct was always to flee, but she’d been running for far too long. Maybe that was the real problem. The big girl panties needed to come out. After all, if she couldn’t face this mess head-on, how could she even hope to bring down a multi-million dollar sex-trafficking ring?
Annabeth took a deep breath. From the facts at hand, it seemed Vi had nothing really to do with it. No, Queen B herself had orchestrated the scheme. To what end was anybody’s guess. The real question, of course, had not been answered.
“Vi, what I don’t understand is—why are you friends with someone who makes you do something you don’t want to do? I mean—.”
Vi held up her hand to interject. “You don’t know her like I do. I know she can be really high-maintenance and half the time she is dragging me into one drama after another, but she’s Brooke.” As if that was all the explanation needed.
Annabeth stood up and looked down at her. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. “I think you can do better. I know I haven’t known any of you for very long, but I can see that you are a good person. I hate to see someone like Brooke holding you back.”
As Annabeth walked away she could swear she heard the faint sound of Vi crying.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Vi
How is it Friday already, Vi wondered as she sat in her car outside Trudy’s. She slipped off her hands-free device. She had just come off an overnight shift at the shelter and had already gotten two calls from work during the short drive over. The midday heat and the greenhouse effect going on in her car made her sweat, but she couldn’t hear properly over the noisy, clanky air conditioner, which meant she was stuck. Besides, she needed to be on her A-game. The other advocates were worried about Anjali, the Indian girl who was part of the sex trafficking ring—and, of course, Vi was, too. The poor thing wouldn’t speak with anyone but Vi, but Vi couldn’t exactly be there 24/7. She had other clients to look after, and a life of her own.
Vi tossed her keys into her purse. She wasn’t in a hurry to get out of the car, but the oppressive heat was beginning to make the outside unbearable. On the flip-side, spending an hour or two in a small shop with Annabeth and Brooke would likely be every bit as miserable.
Out of habit and reverence, she did a quick, sloppy sign of the cross and pleaded with the Virgin to give her strength. For extra measure, she kissed her St. Rita Medallion. The patron saint of the impossible was definitely someone she needed on her side.
St. Rita, I ask for your peace and guidance. Be with me now.
The sound of her own voice in her head sounded foreign, since it was usually drowned out by the sound of everyone else's needs and concerns.
She walked into the beauty parlor, where Brooke sat under one of the hair dryers with a sangria in one hand and that month's new Vogue in the other. Brooke’s goddaughter sat beside her, entranced by her phone. She didn’t even notice that Vi had arrived. Brooke, however, lit up like a Polish Church on Christmas Eve the moment Vi stepped through the door.
“Yay, you’re here! Mani-pedis, makeup, and hair. All of it, my treat. Prepare to be pampered, Violeta.”
Brooke looked positively radiant. She had always been gorgeous, but lately—despite everything going on with the gala—she had a sort of glow about her. The effect made her even more devastatingly beautiful than ever.
“Yup, I’m here. Though I don't know why you are. You already look amazing!”
She flapped her hand theatrically as if to brush the compliment away. “Aww, c’mon. You know I can’t resist a pampering sesh.”
“Miss…” A technician took her by the elbow and guided her across the room to the row of pedicure chairs. “Sit here.” The man’s commanding voice comforted her. It was nice to not have to think and just be told what to do.
Well, sometimes.
Vi sat obediently and closed her eyes in an attempt to shut out the chaos of the outside world. But the world, it seemed, was not to be deterred. The door shot open again, bringing with it a hot gust of late summer air. And also Annabeth. She had a purple U of A T-shirt on and a pair of ripped 7s jeans. Brooke’s complete opposite.
Vi watched in amusement as the technician greeted Annabeth and attempted to guide her over to the last chair, the one directly beside Vi.
“I can sit on my own, thanks,” Anna barked at the poor man, who had made the mistake of trying to help her sit down into the cushiony massage chairs. She looked like a cat who was being made to take a bath—obviously not the type who enjoyed being told what to do.
Vi stifled a giggle behind her hand.
Anna glowered at her, but soon a smile cracked across her face and she laughed too. “I guess I’m not in the best mood today.”
“Yeah, me either.”
“Would you ladies like some wine? Champagne?” the owner asked with a pleasant, obviously practiced smile.
“Coffee,” they said in unison, making them both break out into another fit of giggles—this one even more robust than the last.
She could feel the tension between them begin to dissipate. Maybe their new friendship was salvageable, after all.
The owner gave them an amused smirk and went off in search of coffee.
“What is so funny over there?” Brooke asked with a look of jealousy.
She had only seen Brooke ever look jealous a few times in their ten years of friendship, and every one of those times had ended badly.
Anna had no idea just how out of hand Brooke could become. The whole breaking-and-entering thing was child's play compared to some of the stunts Brooke had pulled over the years. Much to Vi’s dismay, a part of her had enjoyed a few of their reckless adventures.
Through the mirrors that lined the wall, she could see Brooke reflected back at her, and she couldn’t help but smile. While her friend could be a handful, she was also fiercely loyal and protective. The day they met had been branded into her memory.
Joy had decided to throw an epic fit in the new posh grocery store that had opened up next to their subdivision. It didn’t take long for Joy’s antics—screaming and crying while slapping Vi—to draw a crowd of spectators.
“Ma’am, if you and your friend here can’t control yourselves, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the manager had threatened.
That was when Brooke sprung into action, pushing her way through the throng of people like Wonder Woman there to save the day. Brooke had gone nose-to-nose with the manager and used her lanky stature and bellowing voice to her advantage. He really hadn’t stood a chance against the mighty Queen B, and the jerk had actually cried! By the time Brooke was done, he’d not only apologized, but also offered to deliver the groceries to Vi’s home for free.
Vi had never been so grateful to another human being in her entire life. Over the years she had fought for Vi and Joy with an intensity that was both a blessing and a burden at times. At the end of t
he day, she loved Brooke and couldn’t imagine her life without her.
She flashed another smile at her BFF in the hopes of reassuring her. “Oh, nothing. I think we’re both just a bit slap-happy.”
Brooke’s eyes narrowed. “Well you had better wake up. We have a long night ahead of us. I can’t have you two cackling like a bunch of hyenas.”
Vi and Annabeth shared a quiet, amused look before settling back into their chairs. Now that the tension had leveled out for the moment, she fiddled with the massage settings until she got it just right.
One of Trudy’s assistants filled the basin in front of her and placed Vi’s feet inside. From the corner of her eye, she could see that three people were attending to Brooke, who was holding court. This was her element. Vi, on the other hand, felt horribly awkward as the woman assigned to her scraped layer after layer of calluses from her feet. Every swipe of the tool made her twitch.
“Hold still!” the tech grumbled and clamped down on her foot.
“Sorry, it tickles.”
The woman muttered something under her breath, and Vi was grateful that she didn’t know what had been said.
Brooke shot her an admonishing look. She was no doubt embarrassed by Vi’s overly sensitive feet. Her BFF was all about social protocol.
Anna reached across and touched her arm. “My feet are ticklish, too.”
Vi smiled back.
Ligia put away her phone and got up from the chair. “I’m going to get my eyebrows done. Umm, you should too, Vi.”
Brooke didn’t hesitate. “She’s right. Your brow—because let’s be honest, I can’t really say brows, now can I?—well, it looks like an angry caterpillar. Excuse me, could I trouble you for another drink?” Brooke handed one of the techs her empty glass.
Vi sank further into her chair. Did she really look that bad? She flipped her phone’s camera over and saw herself reflected back.
Walker Texas Wife (The Book Cellar Mysteries 1) Page 17