Although they’d ultimately gotten a substantial financial commitment from Drayden’s, Christian was beginning to wonder if his association with Emily-Anne was such a good thing after all. He liked her. She was down-to-earth, friendly, and full of surprises. But he had to admit that she was a disaster on high heels. Since his public image was one of style, order, and decorum, Emily-Anne was like the anti-Christian.
The schoolgirls began to giggle and whisper again, and he realized they were staring at him. He did a discreet self-check: his zipper was fine and nothing else seemed amiss. Then he heard one of them murmur, “So cute!” and he dropped his eyes, trying not to smile. Since he was in his midtwenties, it wasn’t often that girls their age noticed him. It was gratifying but a little sad, too, to think that his fan club consisted mostly of gay men, career-obsessed businesswomen, underage girls, and a dog with a tendency to soil the carpet when excited. He really needed a date.
When they’d left yoga the night before, Derek told him the same thing after pointing out that the two of them had been bitching for five minutes about the trauma of finding a new hairdresser since Davii’s departure. “There are lots of hot women in our yoga class,” Derek suggested.
Christian looked at him and said, “I think your version of hot women and mine may be different.”
“All right, then, what about Vienna?” Derek asked.
“Never, never match-make your friends,” Christian warned. “Somebody always gets screwed in that deal. And not in a good way. Don’t you have enough relationship issues of your own? Why are you giving me advice?”
“Ha,” Derek said with a gleam in his eye. “You give relationship advice to lots of your clients, and you—”
“All right,” Christian said, cutting him off. “I’ll get a date. On my own terms.”
He packed up his papers and threw away the cold coffee, conscious that the girls were watching his every move. It really was flattering, and he gave them a warm smile before he left the café. While he pretended to window-shop, he was actually checking out mall patrons for potential romance, disheartened to see primarily tourists, young mothers pushing strollers, elderly mall walkers, and more high school kids. Although he wasn’t sure about the school part unless they were all truants, since it was just after noon on a weekday.
He wandered into Drayden’s, where he found Derek rearranging a display while whispering to Vienna.
“I see you don’t have enough to do if you have time to stand around and chat with friends,” Christian said in his best imitation of Natasha Deere.
“Your need to comment on our actions fascinates me. I have to wonder if you’re projecting. Perhaps you’re using us as a measure of your own self-assessment. Are you wanting more idle time?” Vienna responded.
Christian covertly studied her, thinking of Derek’s suggestion that he ask her out. She was a stunning woman. Her makeup was soft and natural, unlike the wild, curly brown wig she was wearing. Apparently, the novelty of her hairstyle had worn off. She’d foregone her usual black for a pair of tan leather pants and a creamy beige angora top, which threatened to fall off one shoulder. Her Lillith Allure smock might have ruined the look, but on Vienna it seemed like the accessory of the season, as if Kate Spade had glanced up from her sketchbook and intoned, “Smocks!”
Derek left to help a customer, and Vienna hissed, “Forget your issues. That, my friend, is what we in the business call a real freak.” Christian looked where she indicated and saw a petite brunette holding a red high-heeled Jimmy Choo shoe close to her mouth, as if she was about to kiss it. “Girl, get a room,” Vienna said.
“Do you always get weirdos in here?” Christian asked.
“Weirdos, inferiority complexes, megalomaniacs, and fetishists of all kinds, yes.”
“Drayden’s Hospital for the Mentally Infirm,” Christian suggested.
“Never have so many needed me so much,” Vienna said. “Why do you think I take so many breaks?”
“At least you’re using your talent to build self-esteem through cosmetics.”
“True. That’s better than some of the other jobs I’ve had in this mall. Which reminds me. I had a thought about the cancer benefit. Emily-Anne should ask some of the mall restaurants to donate food.”
“Emily-Anne has managed to delegate that task to me,” Christian said. “Thanks for the idea. You’re a genius.”
“That may be, though my Mensa scores haven’t come in yet. I just know that several restaurants have done that for past charity events.”
“Which mall restaurant did you work at?” Christian asked.
“Which one haven’t I worked at would be a better question.”
“Which one haven’t—”
“Galileo’s Glass,” Vienna interrupted, making a face.
“Good. Lukewarm buffalo wings and freezer-burned fries were not what I had in mind for the event.”
“Oh, too bad. For a second there, it was feeling like home. Throw in an ambrosia salad, and we would’ve been on one of my mother’s church picnic socials.”
A voice behind them said, “I need food! Those Clinique chicks snatched up your donuts like starving Ethiopians.”
They turned around to see a small Korean woman in a Cosmetics smock identical to Vienna’s, and Vienna said, “Christian, this is Meg. Meg, Christian.”
“I’m famished,” Meg said in lieu of a greeting.
“I might have a Tic Tac,” Christian offered, reaching into his pocket.
“That might work for Bianca, but I need meat,” Meg insisted. “My stomach sounds like a helicopter flying low over Red Beach.”
“How about a side of beef?” Vienna suggested, nodding toward a man who was hovering near Women’s Shoes.
Meg rolled her eyes and said, “That’s Benny from Security. I know people who’ve eaten from his restaurant and, from what I understand, they don’t supersize, if you know what I mean.”
Vienna nodded and said, “Overly pumped-up men are often trying to compensate for other shortcomings.”
Christian suppressed a shudder, wondering if a date with Vienna would result in an equally cold-blooded assessment of him.
“Oh, look, there’s my entrée now,” Meg said perkily. Vienna and Christian followed her gaze, and Christian saw Emily-Anne leading her two dogs toward the exit. “And my dessert is sporting a diamond collar! Now that’s class.”
“Let’s clock out and go to lunch early,” Vienna said just as Derek returned. “See you later, boys.”
“This is the longest I’ve seen you go without taking a call on your cell phone,” Derek commented.
“It’s turned off,” Christian said. He told Derek about his morning meeting and the new responsibilities Emily-Anne had dumped on him. “So I’ve spent the last couple of hours strategizing, and I didn’t want a lot of interruptions.”
“I know someone who could fill the entertainment slot,” Derek said.
“Who?”
“Sheree, from the Congreve piano bar.”
“She’d be perfect. I might enlist you for a few more duties, too.”
“I’ll help you in any way I can,” Derek promised. “Are you going to yoga tonight?”
Christian gave him a guilty look and confessed, “I need a yoga break.” Derek seemed a little crestfallen, so he added, “I wouldn’t mind doing something. Just something not healthy, balanced, productive, or—”
“Boring?” Derek asked.
“I am boring,” Christian agreed. “I don’t know why anyone ever thinks I’m gay.”
“There are boring gay people, too,” Derek said with a laugh. “Whenever I find myself in the mood you’re in, I just ask myself—”
“What would Davii do?” Christian finished his sentence.
“He’d go for a nooner on the top floor of the parking garage,” Derek said. “I’m on break in an hour.”
Christian gave him a fraternal punch on the arm and said, “Sure. I’ll meet you there. We can talk about babes. Anything else
Davii might do?”
Derek appeared to concentrate and said, “Go dancing at Pluto, then sneak outside to the loading dock for a quickie.”
“I see the Davii approach is getting us nowhere,” Christian said.
Derek looked thoughtful until he finally exclaimed, “I’ve got it! Meet me here when I get off work at six.”
Christian returned to Drayden’s at the appointed hour and waited for Derek on a bench outside the store’s entrance. He felt a twinge of anxiety, since he wasn’t used to someone else taking the reins and planning an evening for him. He heard an incessant tapping noise and realized it was his own foot. Get a grip, he thought as he sat back and rested his ankle on his knee. He reminded himself that he was giving Derek a chance to do something different, too, which might help snap him out of the somewhat somber mood he’d been in lately.
“Ready for fun?” Derek asked, appearing suddenly. “Sorry if I kept you waiting. We couldn’t leave until every display shoe on the floor was in its proper place. Which makes no sense because the morning staff moves everything to dust the shelves and tables, but what do I know, right?”
“What’s on the agenda?” Christian asked.
“We’re going to a concert,” Derek said. “Come on.”
While they walked through the mall, Derek seemed more like himself as he regaled Christian with stories about the crazy customers he’d assisted that day. His anecdotes ranged from an irate customer who couldn’t understand why Drayden’s wouldn’t let her return a pair of five-year-old shoes that “hadn’t worn well,” to a man whose affair was revealed to his wife when their sales associate asked if she should messenger the purchase to his usual suite at the Congreve.
“She started beating him over the head with one of the shoes right there on the sales floor,” Derek said.
“That’s terrible,” Christian said. “I shouldn’t be laughing.”
“We all wanted to,” Derek assured him, “but couldn’t, of course. Natasha was livid. But the absolute worst moment of my day was with a group of four women who made me bring out about fifty pairs of shoes for them to try on.”
“Doesn’t that usually happen?” Christian asked.
“Yes. But they only did it so I could take a picture of them at Drayden’s trying on shoes. They had no intention of buying anything, and no regard for the fact that I brought out all those shoeboxes and had to put them back.”
Christian made a face. “Bitches.”
“Luckily, that’s when poor Jonquil made the faux pas with the married couple and all hell broke loose,” Derek said. “Natasha started screaming about how inept her staff is, that the sales floor was a mess, we have no respect for the lunch schedule, we’re not ready for the Planter’s Day Sale—if there was something to bitch about, she was right there bitching about it. She forced me to take lunch and made poor Jonquil put away all those shoeboxes as punishment. I felt so bad for her.”
Christian was about to agree when he noticed that they were entering the Congreve lobby. “Are we watching Sheree perform? As far as I’m concerned, she’s got the benefit. She doesn’t have to audition. She’s a shoo-in.”
“Please,” Derek begged. “Don’t say ‘shoe.’ No, we’re attending a different concert. But first we’re having an appetizer.”
Christian didn’t question him further, although he wanted to when they passed the restaurant and lounges on the main floor and took the elevator to the top floor of the hotel. Derek led him to a stairwell, which they followed up to a steel door and finally onto the roof.
“Should we be up here?” Christian asked.
Derek shrugged and said, “I come up here occasionally when I need alone time. They’ve been talking about renovating it for the guests. Putting in a rooftop pool and a sundeck, or some such nonsense. I guess it’s an adventurous and expensive project, because it hasn’t happened yet. Nobody ever comes up here.”
“They’ve been talking?” Christian repeated. “Who’s ‘they’?”
“Nobody,” Derek said. “You know. You hang around. You hear things. Check out the view.”
“It’s phenomenal,” Christian said, leaning on the four-foot-high wall that surrounded the edge of the hotel’s roof. It was too dark to see the horizon, but Christian supposed that on a clear day, from their vantage point, he’d be able to see for miles across the flat landscape of Indiana. The only thing he could hear was the wind rushing past his ears and the occasional honk of a car horn. “You said something about appetizers?”
“Oh, yeah,” Derek said. He walked behind a large air duct and returned with a paper bag. He reached inside and brought out a bottle of Jägermeister and two shot glasses. “Hope you’re hungry.”
One hour and several shots later, Christian and Derek were barely able to stand up. Christian looked at Derek and asked, “What were we laughing at?”
“I don’t remember,” Derek said.
“Man,” Christian said. He tried to playfully punch Derek’s shoulder but missed by several inches. “You’re drunk.”
Derek laughed again and looked at his watch, squinting in the dim light. “We’d better get going if we’re going to make that concert on time.”
“What concert? Where?” Christian asked.
“You’ll see.”
They retraced their route, practically falling out of the elevator and into the Congreve lobby. When Derek tripped on his own shoe, Christian caught him, saying, “Whoa, Nelly!”
“Who are you calling Nelly?” Derek asked, pointing his finger accusingly at Christian.
“Don’t point at me,” Christian said, trying to grab Derek’s finger, but Derek pulled it away too quickly. Christian lunged at him and ended up knocking over a small potted palm. “Whoops!” They held each other for support while they laughed uncontrollably, until Christian put his arm around Derek’s shoulder and said, “Lead on, McGruff.”
“That’s the crime dog,” Derek corrected. “I think you mean Macduff.”
“Whatever,” Christian said.
They staggered through the mall until they reached a large crowd in the courtyard at the mall’s center. A small stage had been erected behind the planetarium; hordes of teenagers and their parents were milling about.
“Who are we—” Christian was interrupted by the opening beats of a cheesy dance track and a burst of feedback from the speakers stacked next to the stage. He turned to see a trio of girls in vivid clothing and big hair skip onto the stage, waving at the crowd, until they met at center stage and began dancing in synchronized movements.
“Am I in hell?” Christian asked.
“This is Mall of the Universe,” Derek reminded him. “You were expecting Aerosmith? Why do you think I got us liquored up first?”
Having acquired microphones, the girls began singing about all the men who’d done them wrong, which worried Christian, since they looked about fifteen years old. The kids in the audience seemed to know all the words to the song; they were dancing and singing along with the girls. The parents appeared bored and embarrassed, nervously looking around and exchanging withering glances. Except for the woman next to them. She looked at Christian and smiled, pushing a strand of long dark hair behind her ear as she blushed and turned her attention back to the stage.
“I think I’m being flirted with,” Christian said to Derek.
“What?” Derek said absentmindedly. He was mirroring the girls’ dance moves, stepping in place and doing complicated arm gestures, until he spun around and fell down. “Whoops!”
Christian grabbed his arm and hauled him up. “Stop that. That woman’s flirting with me, and you’re going to louse it up.”
“Louse what up? What kind of woman hangs out at a Triple Threat mall show?”
“A what?”
Derek pointed to the stage and said, “Them. Triple Threat. That’s their name. She’s probably a mother of preteen brats just like them.”
Christian glanced at the woman again. She saw him looking and smiled coyly. “There
. Did you see her? She’s hot,” Christian said. In his mind, he was already taking her back to his place, where he’d break out a bottle of wine, they’d get to know each other, and then they’d—
“Do it all night long,” the girls howled, hitting every note in their vocal register and sounding like a cat being put through a wringer.
“I haven’t heard anything like that since my college roommate got plowed for the first time,” Derek bellowed. “At least he was on key.”
Christian laughed and said, “I hope you weren’t in the room.”
“No. I was staying with friends three dorms over,” Derek said.
“Maybe I should book Triple Threat for Emily-Anne’s benefit,” Christian said. “People will pay to have them put on some clothes and shut up!” He and Derek were in the midst of another laughing fit when a purse connected with Christian’s head. “Hey!” he exclaimed in surprise.
“That’s my daughter you’re talking about!” Christian looked up to see the woman he’d been flirting with glaring at him with what could only be described as a look of unadulterated hatred. “How dare you two?”
She swung her purse again, but Christian ducked and felt the supple leather of the handbag barely graze his cheek. He shoved Derek and yelled, “Run!”
As they dashed for the Galaxy Building, Derek said, “So. Yoga tomorrow?”
19
They Shoot Dragons, Don’t They?
It was the purse that caught Vienna’s eye. It was, perhaps, the largest one she’d ever seen, and she wondered what anyone had to carry that would require a purse that big. She looked at the woman holding it, and at the man with her, then trailed behind them while they wandered through Drayden’s third floor. They were young, perhaps in their late twenties, both blond, both white, both dressed casually and holding hands. They never let go, which meant they had to be newlyweds. Vienna wondered if the woman’s ring was digging into her husband’s hand.
When they stopped in Linens to marvel at Drayden’s signature burlap shower curtains, Vienna lunged at a display of towels and pretended to look through them.
Someone Like You Page 20