“What was his state of mind?” Jack asked. “Did he say anything about…anything?”
Michael and Seth looked at each other as if that might spark a memory for them, but it didn’t. They shook their heads. “Nothing that I can think of,” Michael said.
“Yeah, me, either,” said Seth. “Sorry.”
I glanced back to the baseball diamond to see Aaron staring at us. He was bold. Instead of turning around, possibly to pretend he hadn’t been caught staring, he lifted his gloved hand to his forehead in a salute. I didn’t want to break away first, but he wasn’t going to. A shiver ran up my spine. The guy was creepy. I turned back, ready to hit the road. I’d had enough for the day. Tomorrow was the bachelorette pamper day with Leti, her bridesmaids, and friends, so I wanted to get a decent night’s sleep. Tomorrow night might be dicey in that regard. Leti wasn’t a let’s-have-a-male-stripper-and-get-drunk kind of girl, but at a bachelorette party, anything could happen.
“See ya,” Michael said to us as he and Seth went back to the field.
Jack and Ricky exchanged cell numbers. “In case you think of anything,” Jack said. “I can’t let it go, man.”
“I get it,” Ricky said. “I’m torn up about what happened.”
He shook Jack’s hand, then mine before joining his team on the field for practice. As Jack and I walked toward the parking lot, I turned to look over my shoulder. And stopped in my tracks. Aaron stood at third base, his legs spread wide with one foot on the bag, but he wasn’t focused on his teammates. No, he was staring straight at us, and once again, he lifted his gloved hand to his forehead in what I could only describe as a menacing salute.
Chapter 13
Jack stayed the night at my place, which meant we’d had to be quiet coming up the stairs to the flat. We’d had to talk in low voices once we were inside, and we’d had to bite our lips and hold everything in later when we’d finally collapsed into my bed.
Jack’s ex, Sarah, was there in the back of my mind, and I knew Manny was an ever-present thorn in Jack’s side, but we ignored them both and focused only on each other. Morning came too soon. He checked his phone first thing. “Nothing,” he said when he read the question on my face.
“No news is good news,” I said, hoping that was true in the case of Marnie Haskell.
“I’m helping my mom with some chores around the house,” Jack said when I’d asked him about his plans for the day. Years ago, his father had run off with another woman. His mother had never remarried. Jack was a good son, going over every now and then to mow the lawn or fix a broken window. There was an old saying about watching how a man treated his mother, because it would tell you a lot about how he’ll treat you. With that as my barometer, I had nothing to worry about.
He rolled onto his side and draped his arm over my body, kissing my shoulder. “How about you?”
“Leti’s bachelorette party starts this afternoon.”
“Is there a male stripper on the agenda? Should I be worried?” he asked. I could hear the smile in his voice.
Jack had started as Antonio’s friend way back. He’d been around enough to know most of my family, including primos, tías, and tíos. “You know Leti. She won’t let Elli bring a stripper anywhere near her.”
Leti was twenty-four years old going on forty. I knew that her idea of a bachelorette party was hitting a seven o’clock showing of whatever romcom was playing at the multiplex theater, followed by a sundae at Leatherby’s Family Creamery. Not that there was anything wrong with a night like that. It just wasn’t what any of her cousins or friends considered “her last big adventure as a single woman.”
If it were my bachelorette party, for example, we’d be heading up to Calistoga’s hot springs. We’d all be getting facials or massages, then we’d do a little wine tasting, and wrap it up with a lavish dinner at The French Laundry in Yountville.
Jack propped up on his elbow. “Yeah, but didn’t you say Lucy was helping out?”
“Good point,” I acknowledged. Lucy was an esthetician with her own little business run from the home she shared with my cousin Zac. She’d been all in when a case I’d worked at had taken me to a nudist resort. She’d bared more than I had, and then she’d shown up at the resort’s Halloween party with Zac in tow. Lucy was a down-to-earth modern hippie with a collection of Birkenstocks that rivaled my collection of push-up bras and matching panties. But she also had a daring streak in her. If she had anything to do with this, Leti was going to be pushed beyond her comfort zone.
I’d had every intention of offering to help with the final preparations—whatever they were—but with the Haskell case, time had slipped away. Here it was, already Saturday, and I had no idea what to expect. My cousin—and Leti’s sister—Elli and Lucy had sent cryptic invitations out with instructions to dress in shorts or leggings. “What are they up to?” I’d asked Gracie after I’d gotten mine in the mail.
Gracie had shrugged. “Neither one of them are saying a word.”
If it were just Elli, I wouldn’t be worried, but with Lucy, anything was possible. “It’s not a movie if we have to wear shorts or leggings. A hike?”
“But she didn’t say sneakers or hiking boots,” Gracie had said.
Right. “Maybe just a walk somewhere?”
Gracie had shaken her head. “Lucy’s involved, remember?”
I turned my head and smiled at Jack. “I’ll report back after it’s over.”
“It starts this afternoon and goes all night?”
Another good question. The invitation had been vague about an ending time. “No se.”
“Keeping you in the dark. Sounds like Elli and Lucy have something up their sleeves.”
He was right about that. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered what we were in for.
A few hours later, I found out exactly what Elli and Lucy had been planning. It was a small group of just eight women. Leti, Elli, Lucy, Gracie, three of Leti’s best friends from high school, Corinne, Natalie, Rina, and me. We met outside a Starbucks. Half the women had worn shorts, and the other half had gone with leggings. I’d come prepared. I’d worn black Lululemon leggings, but I also had a pair of shorts in my purse.
“Do you know what the plan is?” I whispered to Leti.
She giggled nervously. “No idea. I’m a little scared. Am I going to like it?”
“I’m in the dark just as much as you are,” I said.
Leti stared. “I thought you said you were sworn to secrecy.”
“Elli and Lucy planned it all,” I confessed. “I’m as excited as you to find out what they have in store.”
Eloisa stood in front of us and clapped her hands. “Are you ready?” she asked, training her eyes on her sister.
Leti’s lips quivered, but she grinned. “Elli, Dios mio, if there’s a stripper—”
“No stripper, sis, much as I wanted to,” Elli said. Her eyes were dark like her older sister’s, but while Leti had let her hair grow long again after her Pretty in Pink phase, she kept it pulled up in a messy bun or ponytail most of the time. Elli’s hair was lighter and fell in waves down her back. Unlike Gracie and me, when Leti and Elli stood side by side, the resemblance was clear. Gracie was the spitting image of Justina Machado with her curly hair and ample cleavage, while I was a sleek, curvy rendition of Jennifer Lopez.
Elli and Lucy both wore shorts. What did they know that we didn’t? Elli clapped her hands, gathering us together under a large green umbrella in front of the coffee shop. “We’re going to carpool from here. Lucy has her minivan, so some go with her. My car seats five, so a few with me. ¿Claro?”
“Got it” and “Yep” and “Okay!” echoed from the group. We followed Lucy and Elli to their cars. I opted to ride shotgun with Lucy. Leti, Gracie, and Corinne went with Elli. Natalie and Rina piled into the second row of Lucy’s ride.
“Okay, spill it,” I
said once we were on the road. Lucy kept a car length and a half behind Elli.
“You’ll see in—” She looked at her watch. “—twenty-five minutes.”
“You can tell us now,” Corinne cajoled from the back. She and Natalie had both worn leggings. One had on sandals, the other, like me, had chosen sneakers.
Lucy laughed. “No can do, but tell you what, I’ll give you a hint. It’s something none of you have done.”
“None of us, meaning the four of us, or all of us, including the others?” Corinne asked.
“Elli and I have done it, but none of the rest of you,” Lucy said.
“That is not much of a hint,” Natalie said. “We don’t know what you and Elli have done.”
Lucy wasn’t bothered at the quality of her hint. “It’s the best I can do.”
Corinne leaned forward. “We can figure it out. Twenty question, okay?”
Lucy thought about it for a few seconds, then slowly nodded. “Yes or no only,” she said.
“Agreed,” Corinne said. “I’ll go first. She looked first at Natalie, then at me. Do either of you have tattoos?”
“No,” I said. “Gracie doesn’t. And I don’t think Leti does.” Lucy had come close, but I’d pulled her out of the sketchy tattoo parlor before she could get in the chair. “Unless you’re holding out on me, you don’t either, Luce.”
“Not holding out. No to the tattoos,” she said.
“I’ll go next,” I said. “It can’t be a piercing because I have one.”
Lucy shot me a conspiratorial look from the driver’s seat. She—and Jack—had been with me when I’d had my bellybutton pierced. I hadn’t meant for it to get that far, but it had and now I was glad. It was like my little secret under my clothes.
I thought about what yes or no question I could ask Lucy. “Axe throwing. Are we going axe throwing?” I asked.
Natalie and Corinne squealed from the backseat. “Axe throwing? Is that a thing?” Corinne asked.
“It is a thing. Lots of bachelor and bachelorette parties are doing it now, apparently,” I said, remembering that little tidbit from an article I’d read recently.
“No axe throwing,” Lucy said.
“My turn.” Natalie tapped her fingertips on the arm rest. “Are we going wine tasting?”
There were a few wineries in Sacramento, but shorts and leggings were not the typical dress code.
“Nope,” Lucy said.
“Ropes course,” Corinne said.
“No. Although that would have been fun,” Lucy said. “Next party I plan, that’ll be a consideration.”
“A movie?” I asked, knowing it couldn’t be, but part of me still wondering anyway.
“No.”
“Sky diving!” Natalie said.
Lucy slapped the steering wheel. “Man, that would have been good, too! But sadly, no.”
“I give up,” I said, but Corinne and Natalie kept at it, throwing out idea after idea after idea, not considering that most of them we couldn’t get to in twenty-five minutes.
“Roller skating!”
“Rock climbing?”
“Bowling.”
“Rafting down the American River.”
“No, no, no, and no,” Lucy said, shooting them all down.
A few minutes later, still following Elli, she pulled into the parking lot of a dance studio. I read the lettering on the dark window advertising their classes. Trapeze. Aerial ropes. Pole dancing.
I did a double take then stared at Lucy. “Pole dancing?”
She threw the minivan into park and clapped her hands with excitement. “Are you ready?”
Natalie’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? Pole dancing?”
Lucy giggled and nodded, bouncing up and down in her seat.
Natalie started bouncing right along with her. “I’ve always wanted to try that. Oh my God, we’re going to learn how to pole dance!”
Corinne jumped out of the van. “Me, too!” She turned to Lucy. “You’ve done it?”
“Elli and I tried it before we booked. It’s so fun. So empowering.” She gave a throaty laugh. “And so sexy. Zac wants to put a pole in our bedroom.”
The group from Elli’s car were having similar reactions, every one of them—even Leti—looking equally nervous and excited. I had to admit, a little charge of electricity was pulsing through me, too.
We followed Elli and Lucy into the studio, which was just a large open room with floor-to-ceiling mirrors for walls and hot pink sheers draped over the windows. I realized that we could see out, but because of the dark tint, nobody could see in. That was a relief. I didn’t need an audience when I swung around a pole for the first time.
The wood flooring was blond. Shiny silver poles were bolted to floor and ceiling, a black yoga mat laid out at each pole station. A woman came into the studio from a back room. I felt my eyebrows reach toward my hairline in surprise. She was crazy tall—like over six feet in what had to be five-inch platform stripper shoes. She wore a leotard, a glittery headband pulled back her soft brown hair, and she was curvy with extra jiggle in her tush and her chest. She was selling an image, I realized, and she looked the part.
“Hello, hello! I’m Karen, your pole dancing teacher.” She looked at each of us in turn. “Now, which one of you is the bride-to-be?”
Only after we all turned to Leti did she slowly raise her hand. “I am,” she said, looking more like a student tentative about giving an answer to a question than a woman a week away from being married.
“Leticia. Beautiful name for a beautiful bride.”
Leti blushed. “Thank you.”
“She goes by Leti,” Elli said.
“Ah, like Elli for Eloisa. Got it.” She returned her gaze to the rest of us. “And you all are…?”
One by one, we gave our names. “Lola,” I said when it was my turn.
Her eyes grew wide and her smile stretched across her face. “Lola. Now that is a name for a pole dancer.”
I’d heard similar comments over the years. Lola was an inherently sexy name and I’d suffered through my share of cringy Lotharios as a result. “My given name is Dolores, but—”
“No, no, for you, Lola is perfect.” She swung her arm wide and directed us each to one of the yoga mats. As we took our places, Karen filled us in on the plan for the afternoon. “I warn you, this may become addicting to some of you. We’ll stretch first. Pole dancing utilizes your upper body, so your arms and your abs. You’re going to feel it tomorrow! By the end of our time together, you’ll each be able to do a short routine. If you come back, we’ll build on that.”
Lucy and Elli both nodded enthusiastically. “So addicting,” Lucy said. “I’m coming every week now.”
“Me, too. Love it so much.”
Karen beamed. “That’s what I like to hear! She reviewed our names, remembering them all, then directed us in a few warm-up stretches. After that, we jumped right into the beginner moves, beginning with a back arch, then a back bend. “Next, we’re going to do a back hook spin,” Karen said. “Ready?”
“Ready!” Corinne and Natalie said at the same time. Gracie and Leti looked a little unsure. Rina, who’d been reserved, suddenly blossomed. She mimicked the moves Karen demonstrated, stretching her right arm up the pole, holding on with her left hand, then hooked her right leg around the shiny chrome pole.
“This is called a back spin,” Karen said as she pushed off with her left leg, the momentum carrying her around the pole.
Rina pushed off and spun. It wasn’t as graceful as Karen, but it was a successful spin. Elli and Lucy did the move effortlessly. They’d clearly been practicing.
Karen demonstrated again, step by step. You wouldn’t think such a simple movement would take so much concentration, but it did. I made the mistake of glancing at the mirror as I spun and sputtered.
I looked nothing like Karen, Elli, Lucy—or even Rina. I’d hooked my right leg around the pole, but it slipped down. I tried again, this time holding it in place, but when I pushed off with my left leg, my hands stuck and my spin turn was bumpy at best, a complete bust at worst.
At this rate, Jack would never have the pleasure of watching me pole dance.
But Karen was determined. “Wipe your hands first,” she said, coming over to me.
I ran my palms over my thighs, letting my leggings absorb the excess moisture. This was ridiculous, I thought. I could climb a massive tree. I could kick ass. Surely I could master swinging around a pole.
She took me through the steps again, adjusting my leg and helping me get my position correct. Finally, I was able to do it. The other bachelorettes applauded.
“Callate,” I said, but I smiled. I’d successfully executed a back hook spin.
Karen went to Leti next, giving her one-on-one attention as she took us through the back slide, the carousel spin, and the fan kick. She was starting instruction on the hook and roll when a woman came into the studio from the back room. Just like Karen, she wore extraordinarily tall heels, but instead of the leotard, she had on a pair of black authentic shorts and a mini tank top. Her hair was cut in a sassy short bob. They had the same thin nose, wide set eyes, and full lips. Sisters was my guess.
“Ladies,” Karen said, “this is Katherine, my sister.”
Katherine greeted us with a collective wave. “Looking good, girls!”
“You own the studio together?” Rina asked.
“Going on three years now,” Katherine said.
“How’d you get started pole dancing?” Leti asked. She’d mastered every move so far and I could see the spark in her eyes. She was loving this.
The sisters looked at each other and chuckled. “That’s a story and a half,” Karen said.
“I think we’re ready for a break,” Natalie said. She sat down on her mat, crisscrossed her legs, and clasped her hands in her lap. “I want to hear it.”
One by one, we all sat and looked at Karen and Katherine expectantly. “Okay,” Karen said. “We’ll give you the abridged version.”
Drop Dead Lola Page 11