by Roz Denny
Gabe laughed. A deep joyous sound. "You think I get dressed in a penguin suit for a lark? It's business for me, too, Sarah. Only now that I know you're going, the prospect seems brighter."
"Oh…well…" Sarah struggled to breathe. What was he doing?
"Look, I know you're running late. I won't keep you. Give me the address of Mitzi's mother and have a good time shopping next week."
She gave him the information, surprised she remembered it in her current state of confusion.
"Buy something sexy," Gabe growled just before hanging up. He contemplated what would look sexy on Sarah. Just about anything, he decided.
Sarah clung to her receiver, her palms damp.
"Are you ready, Mom?"
She looked up and saw her son. Miracle of miracles, he was dressed and his hair was combed.
"Who called?"
"Gabe," she said, dropping the receiver with some haste.
"Did he say anything 'bout next Tuesday?"
"Yes. Why didn't you tell me what was in the works?"
He shrugged. '"Cause Gabe said he might have a 'pointment. Said he'd call."
"Far—Mike!" Sarah turned and threw up her hands. "Please speak each word slowly and don't leave out any letters. The word is appointment. Honestly, what do your teachers say about your English?"
He looked contrite. "Same as you. But they're all women, too."
"What has that got to do with anything?" Sarah put her hands on her hips.
"Men don't care 'bout things like English. Coach don't preach to me 'bout verbs. Gabe, neither."
"Either," corrected Sarah. "They may not bring it up, but you don't hear them dropping letters or using bad grammar. Next year, we'll request a male teacher for you."
"Oh, no!" Mike rolled his eyes. "Not Mr. Kitzel. He's like Harvey."
Sarah turned and picked up her purse. "There's nothing wrong with Harvey's English."
"Oh, brother," Mike muttered. "Can we go? I'll try to be better, Mom. Don't make me spend more time with Harvey."
Sarah chose to let the remark go. She drove Mike to school without lecturing.
The remainder of the week and the weekend passed in a blur of work and household chores. Only a few times did she wonder what Gabe was up to. Monday he left a message on her machine confirming Tuesday's arrangements. So she wouldn't worry, he told her. How thoughtful of him.
Next morning, Sarah dropped Mike off as usual. He clambered across the seat and gave her a wet kiss. "I hope you get a sexy dress, Mom. 'Course, I think you're real pretty. But if you get something sexy, everybody else'll think so too. 'Bye."
Sarah raised a hand to her cheek. What did eight-and-a-half-year-old boys know about sexy? His parting shot mirrored one Gabe had made last week, and that brought an unexpected blush.
From the moment Sarah stopped for Mitzi, her friend talked nonstop. "Do I ever have good news!" she said by way of greeting. "I talked to one of my cousins last night. He owns a clothing shop in Honolulu. They just got in a new shipment of dressy dresses. I called two other cousins with stores and they're well stocked, too. Can I sniff out bargains or what?"
Sarah smiled. "The man who fixed my air conditioner was your cousin. Do you have relatives in every business in town?"
"Nope." Mitzi laced her fingers in her lap and looked smug. "But where I don't, Osamu does. Don't be smart. Tonight, you're my cousin, too."
Sarah laughed outright. "The black sheep? Which side of the family?"
"Hey, we don't get that specific," Mitzi scoffed. "Let's eat out tonight. We haven't done that in a long time."
Sarah thought about her strained budget. "I probably won't be hungry, Mitzi, but I'll get tea or something." She pulled up to the curb to let Mitzi out and looked away so her friend wouldn't offer to pay. It had taken more than creative financing to find the money for a dress. Just this morning, Sarah had noticed Mike's jeans were getting too short again. Maybe she should skip the party. And miss seeing Gabe? a little voice pestered.
"Don't worry about dinner, Sarah," Mitzi said lightly. "You know me—shopping is sustenance enough." Wiggling her fingers, she hopped out and dashed away into her building.
As she parked, Sarah worried again about finances. Before reaching her office, she'd decided to call Mitzi and beg off. There was also the matter of soccer camp. Mike had his heart set on going, and she had more or less agreed.
Since she'd driven Mitzi to work today, Sarah was shocked to find Osamu Kealoha lounging in Lou's doorway when she walked in.
"To what do we owe this honor, Sam?" she teased, "Did one of your students get too aggressive? Or a parent?" It was an old joke and no secret that overenthusiastic parents caused him more problems at wrestling matches than his students.
He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Actually I was at the barber's down the street. Mitzi called and said she'd forgotten to pay you for gas this month. Since I was so close, I decided to drop it by."
Sarah straightened from the drawer where she was putting her purse. "No such thing, Sam. She gave it to me in advance—so I could get my air conditioner fixed."
The short muscular man dropped some money on her desk and promptly headed for the door. "Mitzi's never wrong about money. Now, cars are a different story. And since she refuses to take the bus, it's worth twice what you charge just to know she's not wiping out the side of a Mercedes. I love her dearly, but I tell you, put her behind the wheel and she undergoes a personality change." He rolled his eyes. "Look at it this way, you're saving me a lawsuit." Tossing a wave at Lou, he slipped out the door.
Sarah stared down at the fifty dollars.
Lou came to lean on her desk. "While we're on the subject of money," he said, clearing his throat. "I completely forgot your raise. I talked to all the associates a few weeks ago. We agreed your work load has doubled. We're giving you a new title, too. How does legal assistant sound?"
Sarah sank back in her chair. Lou disappeared into his office, then came back with the firm's checkbook. He filled in a generous amount, signed it and ripped the check out.
"I made this retroactive to the first of the year, Sarah. That was when our business really picked up. Forgive my lapse of memory, but I've been so damned busy in court lately." He capped his pen and handed Sarah the check.
She gaped at the figures. Tears welled. "I don't know what to say, Lou." She swallowed and looked away.
"Don't say anything. You earned every penny. By the way, Sam mentioned you and Mitzi are shopping for the Maxwell party. Bring me the bill. I'll reimburse you. After all, I asked you to represent the firm."
"Absolutely not!" Sarah squared her shoulders. "The raise I accept because we are busier. You will not buy me a dress out of company funds. Anyway, I'm not sure I'm going."
"I thought it was all set." Lou closed the checkbook and glanced up in surprise. "Isn't Harvey picking you up?"
Sarah caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
Lou scratched his head. "You and Harvey have a tiff? Is that why he's acting like such a moron over the widow Lewis?"
"We didn't really." Sarah flushed. "Well, maybe. Harvey doesn't have much patience with Mike, I'm afraid."
Lou looked thoughtful. "Isn't much point in dating him then, is there?"
Sarah shook her head sadly.
"So how's young Parker getting along with the boy? I haven't heard you mention any problems lately."
Sarah didn't think she wanted to discuss Gabe. "Ah, well, like you said, Lou, you've been in court a lot."
"What kind of answer is that? How does Mike relate to Parker?"
The question made her frown. "They're like two peas in a pod."
"Do I detect a 'but'?" Lou narrowed his gaze. "You know I care about you and the boy. Do I need to throw the bum out on his ear?"
"No." Sarah's laughter spilled over. "Everything's fine between Mike and Gabe. Hey, shouldn't I get at this job you've tagged with a fancy new title?"
"Are you telling me to buzz off, Sarah?" Lo
u stroked his chin. "I pay you to use that tone with obnoxious clients, not with me. I'm the boss, remember?"
Sarah knew he was teasing. "I do appreciate your concern, Lou. To tell you the truth, I run hot and cold on Gabe Parker myself. With his boat and his surfboard, at first he reminded me of Farrell." Her voice trailed off. "Really, though, they're nothing alike," she said, smiling softly. "Gabe's intuitive. Not at all self-centered. He even makes Mike behave."
Lou tapped his pen on the desk. "So, is the jury is still out?"
Sarah nervously stacked files, recalling her morning conversation with Gabe. "Maybe not," she said quietly. "Maybe it's in."
"A boy needs a full-time father, Sarah."
Sarah looked up sharply. "Not subtle, Lou. You make a better attorney than psychoanalyst."
He chuckled, picked up the checkbook and moved away. "Roger! Say no more. I'll mind my own business—unless you want my advice."
Sarah found his comments disquieting. Was Gabe Parker father material? Throughout much of the day, she caught herself daydreaming about what it would be like being married to him. Unlike Farrell, Gabe was trustworthy. His connection with the sea and the surf didn't seem to be all-consuming, as it was with Farrell and his crowd. He hadn't even mentioned surfing in weeks.
Yet when the more intimate side of marriage stole into her thoughts, Sarah made so many mistakes in her typing she had to put the whole thing from her mind.
By late afternoon, with the burden of finances lifted, she actually looked forward to shopping. At five o'clock, she gathered her things and stopped at Lou's door. "I'm on my way. Thanks again for the raise. You're an angel." She hurried out, knowing he'd bluster and be embarrassed. In her haste she almost bowled Harvey over.
Cloven to his side was Mrs. Lewis. Sarah noticed she'd put aside the black outfit for a frilly pastel dress, one that made her look younger.
"Excuse me," Sarah said, losing no time stepping away from Harvey.
"Sarah. Oh, good." Harvey checked his watch. "I'm glad I caught you before you left." He straightened his tie with a thumb and index finger.
For a moment his eyes drifted to the woman clinging to his arm. Sarah thought he looked guilty about something.
She cocked her head. "I finished typing the Lewis brief. Everything you dictated has been transcribed. It's on your desk. Was there something else you wanted?"
Harvey unbuttoned and rebuttoned his suit jacket. "Sarah, have you ever been properly introduced to Jeanette? I'm certain you've heard of Dane Lewis, the textile king." By way of explanation, he added, "It's his daughter from a previous marriage who's trying to cheat Jeanette out of her rightful share of Dane's estate."
Hadn't she just said she'd typed the whole thing?
Flushing, Harvey went on, "Uh, well, enough of this. It upsets Jeanette." He patted the redhead's hand solicitously. "What I wanted to tell you, Sarah," he said, "is I've asked her to ride with us to the Maxwell party."
Sarah blinked. Hastily blurted statements were not Harvey's normal style.
His hand flew back to adjust the knot in his tie. "It's, ah… Poor Jeanette hasn't been out of her house socially since this whole unpleasantness began. It wouldn't be… good for her to attend a party alone."
Sarah's jaw went slack. She closed her mouth with a snap. "Goodness, Harvey. You don't owe me any explanations. I'm going to the party because it's business. If you like, I can get a ride with Mitzi."
She caught something like relief crossing Jeanette Lewis's exquisitely made-up face.
Harvey straightened. "Don't be silly. Of course I'll pick you up as planned. Nothing's changed except there'll be three of us. As I won't see you before Saturday, I'll tell you now to be ready at eight sharp. Try not to be late this once." Without a further word or even a goodbye, Harvey dragged Jeanette through the door and left Sarah shaking her head in puzzlement.
Late again, she took the stairs two at a time. She could hardly wait to tell Mitzi about this new development.
"You're kidding!" was Mitzi's reply. "The nerve of that man. Who's he trying to bluff? He's so transparent. Ten to one it's the Lewis millions that interest good old Harvey."
"I don't know about that, Mitzi. He seemed awfully flustered over breaching etiquette by inviting two of us. You know Harvey."
"Well, he did breach it good. You were his date. Why do you stand for that garbage?"
"It wasn't really a date. Lou gave both of us the invitations. For business. Anyway, I never would have told you if I'd known you'd start preaching. I thought you'd get a good laugh. I think it's hilarious." Sarah slowed for a taxi and fell silent as the narrow Honolulu streets thickened with traffic.
Mitzi flopped back in her seat. "It is kind of amusing. Prissy Harvey with two dates. You never know, she may be using him, too. It's okay if she ruffles his immaculate feathers, but promise me, if she gets catty, you'll ride home with us."
"Done," laughed Sarah. "Now that you have my life in order, direct me to your cousins. Or did you want to eat first?"
"Definitely shopping first." Suddenly Mitzi shot her a glance. "You do want to have dinner, then?"
"That just slipped out. I intended to let you wonder if Osamu stopped by. Honestly, Mitzi, I love you like a sister, but I won't accept your charity."
Mitzi pulled a face. "I goofed, huh?"
"No. We'll call it your next month's carpooling expense. You might also be interested to know Lou gave me a retroactive raise today."
"Well, it's about time." Mitzi grinned. "Hey, there's my cousin's shop. Park anywhere in the alley."
It seemed to Sarah as if everyone on the island had decided to shop in Honolulu this night. The streets bustled. Her feet ached as she followed Mitzi in and out of stores. Every time she did serious shopping with Mitzi, Sarah swore it would be the last time. Yet here she was again. The woman was relentless, trying on every dress in her size. Sarah was more selective. She looked at dozens. Most were out of her price range even with her raise. Now she studied a frothy number Mitzi begged her to try on. The price jumped out. "We're in the wrong business. I could make this for a quarter of the price if my machine wasn't broken."
"Not me. Have you ever heard about the time I mended the zipper in Sam's pants?"
Sarah returned the dress to the rack. "Don't tell me. He couldn't he get them zipped?"
"He got them zipped okay." Mitzi rolled her eyes. "The problem came later—in a locker room full of students, when he went to dress down for an all-district match. He couldn't get them unzipped."
Sarah laughed.
"Yeah." Mitzi sighed. "Poor Sam. He'll never hear the end of it. It's one of the classic locker-room stories that gets passed down from year to year. He gave my sewing machine to Goodwill."
It was growing dark as Mitzi dragged Sarah into yet another alley and another cousin's store. Now the air was cooler and the streets less busy. Not finding anything there, they moved on to Osamu's list of relatives.
At last in a small shop on a side street, in a section of town that made Sarah slightly nervous, she found a dress she liked—at a good price. Dark jade satin rippled like metallic smoke when she moved. The sides were slit from floor to thigh, allowing a provocative peek at both legs. Sarah slowly revolved in front of the three-way mirror. The material molded gently over her full breasts, yet flowed smoothly over her slim hips and flat stomach. Softly capped sleeves and a high collar closed by satin frogs added richness and lent an air of mystery. And the workmanship was exquisite. Sarah felt like a new woman in it. A princess. If she shopped carefully, she might stretch her dollars to include a pair of shoes. She'd seen the perfect ones in a shop a few streets over. They also had a metallic sheen. Delicate straps with three-inch heels. With them on, her head would touch Gabe's chin.
Piling her hair loosely on her head, Sarah made one last slow pirouette in front of the mirror before deciding. Stray locks fell carelessly about her pale cheeks and her eyes gleamed gold in the dim lighting. Yes, she wanted this dress. It made her
look different. Not beautiful, but certainly pretty. And yes, she thought, releasing her pent-up breath in a rush, maybe even sexy.
Mitzi found her dream dress on the same rack. It was midnight blue with a spray of sequined bamboo running from shoulder to knee. The chiffon overlay floated when she walked and added height to her petite frame.
"If I were built like you, Sarah," Mitzi proclaimed, slowly walking around her friend, "I'd buy a dress with a plunging neckline. Still…" She tilted her head. "That one does provoke the imagination."
"Low necklines aren't me, Mitzi. I'm buying this dress," she said decisively. Gabe's face rose before her and caused Sarah a stab to the midsection. Did she really think she could capture his attention at a party abounding with designer dresses? The thought threw a damper on her enthusiasm. "If you've paid for your dress, Mitzi, let's go. This part of town gives me the willies."
"Really, Sarah," Mitzi chided. "This isn't Hotel Street." Her gaze narrowed. "Or do you even know about Hotel Street?"
"I wasn't that sheltered. I know it's the street where all the prostitutes are. Servicemen drop a lot of money there when they're on leave."
"Not ordinary prostitutes," Mitzi confided. "Exotic women. Multiethnic. I've heard they're beautiful."
"Does nothing faze you, Mitzi? Prostitution is illegal. I remember my father and other officers working to have the area closed to military personnel. They didn't make it sound exotic. They made it sound sleazy."
"Well, maybe," Mitzi conceded. "But I like the mix of cultures in this area. It's not sleazy. Most people are hardworking folks, trying to make an honest living. And just smell that food. After all our shopping, I'm famished."
Sarah glanced around with some uncertainty. Neon signs touted a variety of restaurants. Most were tucked inside shabby buildings, poorly lit holes-in-the-wall. She tossed her packages into the trunk, then stepped aside for an old man, who wandered close.
"Got a quarter for a cup of coffee, lady?"
She glanced up into a pair of world-weary eyes. Sympathy tugged at her heartstrings. He could be someone's father. She had tucked the five dollars' change from her purchase into her jacket pocket, and she pulled it out now, pressing it into his leathery palm.