After Hours Bundle (53 page)

He finally found his voice. “She'll wear that one out when we leave.”

“No, sport, I'll wear
you
out.” Kate sent him a smoldering look and actually tossed her hair at him.

The girls hauled her off to the back again, and she reappeared in a deep emerald-green velvet cocktail dress with an asymmetrical hemline that bared one knee but covered the other leg to mid-calf. Her skin glowed ivory against it, and they'd lined her eyes so they looked darker and more mysterious. The neckline of the dress was the showstopper, though: it plunged in a deep V to the top of her waist, held together under her breasts by only a copper filigree pin. She wore the metallic green strappy sandals with it, and they'd found a tiny bronze evening bag for her.

Alejandro took a deep breath. “You look like a goddess,” he said simply.

She flushed and fiddled with the bag before meeting his gaze again. “No need to go overboard, A. I'm just playing dress-up.”

“I'll buy that one for her, with the shoes and bag,” he said to the salesgirls. “Will you wrap that up separately?”

“Alejandro, you can't—do you know how much this—
no.
You are most certainly not buying this outfit for me. I forbid you.”

“Pay no attention to her,” he said, digging out his wallet and producing a credit card. So it would take months to pay it off—who cared? She looked like a young empress. To him, it was imperative that she have the dress.

“You know, sport, you really tick me off sometimes!” Kate said dangerously. “I can't accept that from you. It's not right. And I'm tired of being ordered around.” She turned to the salesgirls. “Let me make this clear to you. You swipe his card, and I won't buy any of the rest of it. You add those items to
my
tab. Understand?”

They blinked at her. They looked at him. They looked at each other. They mentally totaled up the thousands of dollars being spent in their respective stores. And they did as she told them.

Alejandro's blood boiled. It wasn't that he blamed the girls. He blamed Kate. “You won't allow me to give you a gift?” He asked the question in deceptively calm tones.

“Alejo, it's too much.”

“Isn't that for me to decide, not you?”

“No. It's one thing to buy me a scarf or a silver bracelet. But this—it's just not right.”

“Ah. The heiress won't accept a present from the peasant. Why, because you might feel obligated?”

“Stop it! This has nothing to do with that.”

“This is your once-in-a-lifetime fling with a man who wears a gold chain around his neck, eh? Better keep it casual. I'm just your cheap hunk, a low-class boy toy, a temporary pet. You wouldn't want to owe me anything.”

“What?” Kate looked shaken. “What are you talking about? I don't think of you as a pet!”

“Oh, so you're serious about this relationship?”

“Serious? We don't even know each other that well!”

His anger and hurt grew. “That's what I thought.”

“Alejandro, you're not being reasonable—”

He glowered down at her from his superior height. “Oh, but I'm
Latin,
remember? We're not supposed to be reasonable. According to your WASP stereotypes, we're hotheads, so I wouldn't want to disappoint you.” He opened the shop's door and stalked out.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw Kate dig a credit card out of her scuffed wallet and hand it to the salesgirls. Then she followed him outside.

“Don't put Wendell's words into my mouth!”

“Same family. Same attitude.”

“That's so unfair! What is your problem?” she shouted.

“I don't have a problem,” he retorted.

“Yes, you do. You're full of attitude right now, just because I won't let you buy me something. You are so…” She searched for words. “You're
over the top!
It's like you don't know boundaries or limits. You're too big, and you're too gorgeous and you're too persuasive. You're too good a lover, and you're too macho and you're just
too much!
”

He just stared at her, the crazy woman. She stood there in the green velvet dress with only one shoe on, her hair flying every which way. Sparks shot from her eyes and spots of red burned high on those miraculous cheekbones. She was furious and he didn't understand why.

“New Englanders
are
understated, and we don't like taking extravagant gifts. I won't apologize for it! You, on the other hand—you're like a tall, dark, handsome
steamroller.
I have one lousy cup of coffee with you and before I know it I have a pig, and a screaming orgasm and a leather miniskirt! You're just…out of control.”

Alejandro grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her roughly. Then he said, “That's a load of
mierda.
You're just upset because
you're
too
under
control.” And then he turned on his heel and walked away.

I
AM NOT
too under control! I'm engaged in releasing my inner rebel. I just don't always know where to start.
Kate looked at all the shopping bags rattling against her in the back of a cab and felt ill.
I bought all this fancy stuff, didn't I? I left Boston and moved all the way down here by myself. I have a pig in my condo. I am working on being Just Kate. And when I get up the nerve, I will dance on that damned table, too. It just has to be the right time and place.

Alejandro was a jerk. He'd walked away and left her by herself in retail hell, hadn't he? In the company of those tiny, bosomy creatures who would look chic and sexy even if garbed in white kitchen trash bags with banana peels on their heads.

He'd abandoned her to their evildoing, which included dragging her to the custom cosmetics place next door, of all things! Yet another tiny, bosomy creature on spindly heels had chattered at her rapidly in Spanish while she custom-blended gook in a bottle for her face. Then she'd attacked her with it, as well as with various brushes, vials and pencils. She'd smeared colors not found in nature onto Kate's face and charged her close to four hundred dollars for a whole bag of makeup that she would never remember how to use.

By the time Kate had staggered in her new clothes and new face to the waiting taxi, she was shell-shocked. The three tiny
señoritas
smiled and waved, having had the time of their lives. Kate just felt exhausted.

She picked up her car and drove home, horrified when a trucker honked his horn at her and a college kid in the lane next to her whistled and then waggled his tongue between two fingers. “Sicko!” she yelled.

When she arrived at her condo she waved at old Mr. Landry, who lived on her floor, and bent into the back of the Mercedes to fish out her shopping bags.

She heard a sickening crunch of metal on metal and pulled her head out to find that old Mr. Landry had driven his Bonneville right into another parked car.

Kate tottered over on her high heels to make sure he was okay. He glared at her, his lazy eye rolling up into its socket. “Get away from me. This is your fault, missy!”

She gaped at him. “
My
fault?”

“All gussied up like a five-hunnert-dollar hooker. What's a man to do, huh? Mincing around, a-lookin' like you kin suck a golf ball through a garden hose—”

“Mister Landry!”

“Your fault, I'm a-tellin' you.”

“Tell that to your insurance company.”

“I will!”

She gaped at him. “Don't you ever speak to me again, you disgusting old fart.” Kate whirled and stalked back to her car.
Unbelievable.

Laden with her shopping bags, she stormed the main door of her building in her high heels and tottered past the concierge desk. The uniformed attendant behind it called out. “Madam? I'm sorry but you'll need to check in here, please.”

She turned to face him. “Kevin, I live here.”

“M-Miss Spuh—Spinney?” He stared. “Is that you?”

“In the belly-shirted flesh.” She grinned.

“Wow.”

“Thanks, I think.” She turned and continued to lug her bags toward the elevators.

“Uh, Miss Spinney? I hate to even ask you this, but there was a complaint lodged from your own phone number about you. Something about a pig?”

She stopped and turned her head. “Oh, Kevin.” She laughed. “A pig? In my unit? Don't be ridiculous.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

After her brief elevator ride, Kate stumbled into her condo and dumped all of her bags. Gracious came out immediately, squealing and grunting and bouncing up and down on her stubby front legs. Kate looked at her sadly and dropped to the floor to kiss her little snout. “I'm going to miss you.”

“Oh, how touching,” Wendell said, emerging from the guestroom with his signature smirk. It faded immediately, to be replaced by a look of horror when he saw her face and new clothes. “Katydid? Is that you under there, or has J Lo taken over your body?”

Kate stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Like it? This is the new me.”

His lip curled. “You look like South Beach trash.”

She should have known better than to expect a positive reaction, but she was hurt anyway. “Pretty expensive trash.”

He shrugged. “Whatever the budget, you're channeling ‘available.' Grandfather Spinney and Aunt Cornelia would have a coronary if they saw you like that.”

“Like what? In clothes that fit?”

“Those don't just fit, Katy. They display your goods like they're in a shop window.”

“Why is that such a crime? I'm not even thirty.”

“Did your Latin stallion put you up to this? What's next? Bleached hair, double-E knockers and lips the size of a pool raft?”

“Why do you have to be so hateful all the time, Wendell?” She turned away from him and got Gracious a couple of grapes out of the refrigerator.

He had the nerve to look offended. “Hateful? I'll tell you what's hateful—letting your greasy pimp of a sex toy throw your own flesh and blood out of your home. Choosing him over me.”

Her jaw dropped open and she had to take a moment to compose herself. “Wendell, I didn't do any such thing. You pushed Alejandro—and me—to the limits of human tolerance. If he hadn't removed you, I would have. And stop calling him rude names.”

“What's
hateful,
” Wendell continued as if he hadn't heard her, “is forcing a family member to live with a disease-carrying, flea-ridden slab of walking bacon.” He eyed Gracious with malevolence. “Speaking of her, you owe me four grand.”

“What? Why?”

“That F-ing barnyard animal pissed in my suitcase!”

Kate put a hand up to her mouth.

“It soaked my suit, my folded custom shirts, my handmade shoes, my extra set of Pratesi sheets, and quite a few other things.”

She bit back a wild cheer.

“And don't tell me to wash them and forget about it. I'm not wearing pig pee, and I'm not sleeping in it, either. So unless you want your little antics with the greaseball broadcast to the board and the family, you'll be sitting down right now to write me a check.”

Like hell!
Fury engulfed her, and she couldn't even speak to him. Kate scooped up Gracious and stalked to her bedroom, then slammed the door.

In private, she gave the pig a dazzling smile and danced across the room with her. She kissed the top of her fuzzy porcine head. “So
that's
why you didn't need to go out that night.
Good job,
Miss Piggy! You go, girl. Or, uh, I guess you went.”

The pig squealed, and Kate gave her three more grapes and a dried apricot from a bowl on her dresser. She thought about how much she did not want to give Gracious back to her owner. She sighed and kicked off the infernal black peep-toe heels.

Alejandro was not a jerk. If not for him, she'd never have met Gracious. And he was a saint in comparison to Wendell.

When she heard the door slam, she assumed that her cousin had left her in peace for the time being. She fantasized about calling the police to remove him permanently…but even though he was obnoxious, black-mailing scum, he was family. She didn't think she could actually call the cops on him.

She padded around her condo gathering the pig's things. She hauled the bags of food and litter down to her car first, casting a look of dislike at old Mr. Perv-Pants, who was arguing with a police officer and the owner of the parked car he'd run into. She popped her trunk and dumped the supplies into it. She was closing the trunk when Landry said, “There she is, right there. Now you look at that ass and tell me you wouldn't-a wrecked yourself, officer.”

Christ Almighty.
Kate pushed her sunglasses farther up her nose and ignored them as both men turned to stare at her. She walked calmly back into the building, but not before she heard the officer say, “I certainly see your point, sir.”

Maybe I
should
go back to my baggy khakis!
Kate was torn between outrage, amusement and utter embarrassment. But it was also just a tiny bit thrilling to have caused an accident, even for a nasty old geezer with a freaky eye and a toilet mouth. She'd definitely never caused an accident before. Kate treated them to an extra little wiggle before she disappeared into the freight elevator.
Kiss it, boys.

She decided to wait half an hour before bringing out Gracious, so that old Mr. Landry would be gone. Kate turned on the radio and found some salsa music. Then she dragged her shopping bags into her bedroom and put her new things away in the closet.

She looked at herself in a mirror, twisting her mouth. Screw Wendell. She looked great, if she did say so herself, but she didn't look like
her.

The custom cosmetics girl had applied her new makeup with a trowel, and giving in to her Boston upbringing, Kate blotted off half the lipstick. Then she stared at her eyes. They looked huge, dark and mysterious, but they also reminded her uncomfortably of those camouflage fatigues that troops wore in combat. Gray, olive, brown and army-green. And she wore so much mascara that it was a miracle she could blink.

It had to come off. Kate stripped out of the belly shirt and the stretch jeans, and turned on the shower in her bathroom. “C'mon, Gracious!” she called. “Time for a bath. I can't return you smelly, and I have it on the best authority that I look like South Beach trash or a ‘five-hunnert-dollar hooker.'”

Once Kate had washed them both, dried them both and applied a little less makeup to the best of her ability, she called Alejandro's house. “Rude Yankee, here. Today, you get a free pig if you'll buy an apology.”

After a pause he laughed, and she sagged in relief. She'd refused to acknowledge how much his anger had bothered her.

“I should apologize first, Kate,” he said. “I can be a little hardheaded at times.”

“Hey, you have to wait your turn, sport. I get to sell you on mine first.”

He chuckled. “Okay. What model and make of apology? What are the special features? Do they include dinner and dancing? Complimentary thong panties?”

Damn. That was the one thing she'd forgotten to buy. You couldn't wear big cotton underpants with anything she'd bought today, that was for sure. However…Spinneys didn't wear butt floss. It just wasn't done.

“The apology might encompass dinner, but the thong is not included. Dancing is negotiable.”

Alejandro sighed. “I don't know about this. You were awfully cruel to me, and all I did was try to buy you an outfit.”

“You drove off and
left
me, sport. With two beautiful Columbian sadists who clearly understood the meaning of
shampoo heiress,
and milked it to the limit. My credit card company has already called to ask about the break in spending patterns. I believe they thought that some criminal mastermind was outfitting his entire harem.”

“I dunno,” he mused. “I'm still feeling awfully mistreated.”

“They dragged me to a custom cosmetics establishment where they made my face look like a freakin'
color wheel.
And don't forget about the free pig. You are going to accept this apology or I will jam it down your throat with my scruffy old loafers, got that?”

“Kate,
mi corazon.
May I offer a piece of unsolicited advice?”

She sighed. “Oh, please. I'm sure I couldn't possibly live without it.”

“You should never apply for a job with the United Nations, or accept a post as ambassador to anywhere. You have no tact or finesse.”

“Thank you. Now can I bring the pig over, or not?”

“I will welcome you, the pig and the apology with open arms,” Alejandro said. “But…I am still lobbying for the thong.”

 

A
N HOUR LATER
, after a brief stop back at Miracle Mile at a boutique that sold a bottomless variety of butt floss, bras, lacy teddies and naughty nighties, Kate parked her Mercedes outside Alejandro's small, neat house in Coconut Grove.

Her new Brazilian lace thingie—what the hell was it called? A tanga?—had wedged itself right where she didn't want it, and something in the matching apricot lace bra was digging into her spine.

She got out of the car and let Gracious out, too, scratching her on the head. “The way that horrid woman acted when I brought you into the shop! It's not like you're a cockroach, now is it, baby?”

Gracious squealed and dug her snout into the grass.

“Can you believe I had to swear to spend a thousand dollars in there just so she would let you stay? What was I supposed to do, let you suffocate in the car? And now I have butt floss in every color.” She hoped her inner rebel was happy, because Just Kate was actively afraid of blisters where the sun didn't shine.