Time Enough For Tears
Chapter Four- Looking In The Eyes Of Love
The mall wasn't crowded this time of day, and there were plenty of places I wanted to go. "I'm feeling underwear first, then clothes, then shoes," I said.
Lula nodded. "First step, Victoria's Secret."
I was like a kid in a candy store. Not only could I buy black underwear guilt-free (I thought of Ranger everytime I thought of black, now. It was the strangest thing.), I could also afford it. I spent thirty minutes in the store, and came out with two big shopping bags. Black lace panties and bra, red, white, more black panties, a bunch of cute boyshort-type underwear in lots of black. I also bought a few pairs of multi-colored bikinis, and to really shock myself, I bought a black garter belt and thigh-high stockings.
"Wow," Lula said as we walked out of the store. "I think you could just buy stock and it would be cheaper."
I was exhilarated from the shopping, and slightly out of breath. I checked my watch. Plenty of time for a few new outfits and shoes before I had to be back at my apartment to get ready.
"This is going to be a good day," I stated firmly.
"Let's stop and get a pretzel," Lula said, shifting her small shopping bag. I didn't ask what was in it, and she didn't tell. I didn't want to know.
Pretzels in one hand, shopping bags dangling, we set off for clothes shopping paradise.
"What do you think of this?" I asked Lula as I came out of the dressing room. It was another short black skirt, but at least it was new. I had also found a very, very daring top. It was red satin, in an Oriental print, and tied with three ties at my back and a halter around my neck. I couldn't believe I was even trying it on, much less considering buying it. But maybe I was feeling daring enough to wear it in front of Ranger. Maybe.
"Dang, girl," Lula said around a mouthful of pretzel. She dipped another bite in cheese sauce and nodded. "That's a really doozie of a top."
I turned around in front of the mirror and appraised the situation. The top was definitely daring, and the price tag was enough to stop the rest of my shopping. Well, at least the rest of my clothes shopping. I still needed shoes. Shoes I could justify. Shoes were comfort food. And I had a wounded heart. That was more than enough reason to spend more money on shoes.
I had a moment of panic and tossed it off. Today was confident me day. If I could just keep from turning my back on Ranger tonight, I would be okay. That shouldn't be too hard. Just don't turn around. At all.
"Okay. I'm taking it," I said, and marched back into the dressing room.
I paid for the skirt and shirt, bought a pair of sparkly dangly earrings that were next to the counter, and made a beeline for the shoe store.
Lula quickly found about fifty pairs of shoes she had to have, and modeled them around the store, asking my opinion on them. After a pair of bright pink stiletto fuzzy boots, white sandals with pink rhinestones, yellow flip-flops, and a really off-choice of brown moccasins. "Those are just wrong," I told her. "Take them off."
"Hunh," Lula said, sitting down and kicking the shoes off. "A big girl can't get by with wearing comfy shoes. She gotta wear slut shoes to make up for the extra curves."
'Curves' seemed to be pushing it a bit, but I kept my mouth shut. Lula was a little sensitive about her weight.
"I'm taking these," I said, holding up a pair of black stiletto heels. They were skimpy and strappy and wrapped around my ankle. Perfect for distracting a man. And the one I was being hired to distract. I couldn't forget him.
The shoes, clothes, and Victoria's Secret bags all went into the back of my Escape, and we motored off to the office. It was getting late, and Connie had already closed up shop. I dropped Lula off at her car and roared off to my apartment, anxious to start getting ready to meet Ranger. I was doing a pretty good job of tossing off the Morelli incident. Maybe if I avoided it long enough it would go away permanently. Now, all I had to do was continue avoiding him.
The sun was setting fast by the time I pulled into my parking lot. I hauled all my bags into the elevator, and old Mrs. Bestler smiled at me. "Third floor," I panted, dropping them on the floor.
"Third floor, ladies' handbags, lingerie, and better dresses," she sang out, and I all but leapt out of the elevator. My heart had suddenly gone to racing at the thought that I was now completely unattached and would be seeing Ranger, for the first time guilt-free and alone. Omigod. I was going to have a flash. I did that stupid fanning motion to myself on the way to my door with my spare hand. It did nothing to stop the flash, but if I was going to be moronically female, I might as well go all out.
I unlocked my door and stuck my head in. "Anybody home?" I called. This wasn't really so strange, because people seemed to make it a habit of breaking into my apartment. This particular time, no one answered back. A good sign, but not convincing. I checked all my rooms and under my bed. Nothing. Now I was convinced.
The clock read five-ten in the afternoon. Eek! I had to get a move on. That was enough motivation for me. I took the world's fastest shower, dried my hair, gelled the crap out of it, and looked in the mirror. I had somehow managed nice wavy curls, rather than my usual out-of-control curls. Not exactly perfect hair, but for me it was a miracle. I decided to take it as a sign. Today was my lucky day. Maybe I wouldn't get shot at.
I almost chickened out on the garter belt and stockings. The stockings weren't so bad, but the belt made me feel- naughty. The fact that I was the only one who would even know it was there was a small comfort. Still, I was sticking to my guns. I pulled on the short skirt, and stood staring at the bag that held the very expensive red top. I could wear something else and it would look just as good. But then I wouldn't be trying out this new persona that I had created. No brave new Stephanie. Just old Stephanie, fraidy-cat and loser extraordinaire.
No, the top was staying, I told myself firmly. Stop being a chicken for one night. Just one night. You can do this.
I applied the last touches of mascara and stood back from the mirror. I always added liner when I was feeling self-conscious, and tonight I'd rimmed the top and the bottom. I'd done the whole nine yards. Lipstick, eyeshadow, foundation, and mascara. I didn't use blush because I was certain that fice minutes in Ranger's company, in this outfit, would do the trick just fine.
I stepped into the elevator at promptly six o'clock, and started at the sight of Ranger leaning against the far wall. His eyes traveled down the length of my body. I had compromised in the end, and thrown a black jacket over the red shirt. By the time I had to take it off we'd be in a dark bar, and that gave me a little confidence.
When he finally got back to my eyes, I noticed his had darkened to nothing but black pools. "I like the shoes," he said, and gave me a smile.
I was too nervous to smile back, so I just nodded. He grabbed my jacket sleeve and hauled me into the elevator, right up against him. "You need to be more aware of your surroundings, babe," he said, and kissed me, tongue and all. My toes curled in my shoes and my knees went limp. He caught me up around the waist and crushed me harder to him, slanting his mouth over mine. A flash of heat lit through my belly and I think I might have whimpered because he pulled back and set me on my own feet again.
The one time I didn't have to tell him to stop.
I put a hand to the wall to steady myself. "Wow," I said. "Could we repeat that later sometime?"
"Anytime, babe," he said, as the doors opened.
I managed to find my feet enough to get to his car. Tonight he'd chosen the Mercedes. Sleek, classy, and very black. Then I took in what he was wearing. SWAT black. The usual. He was all business tonight. Well, except for in the elevator. I started getting a hot flash just thinking about it.
He watched me slide in, and before I could stop it my skirt slid up, exposing the top of my thigh-high and the bit of belt holding it up. I almost had a heart attack trying to cover it back up. This got me the full on smile. "We have business later, babe," he said, and closed my door.
He wasn't talking about Vino Santinni, either. Oh boy.
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Ranger was his usual silent self on the drive over. I never could manage to slip into the Zone when I was driving. I had tried it a few times, but I had inherited too many Italian hand gestures from my father. It couldn't be done.
Ranger reached behind him into the seat, without taking his eyes off the road. He deposited a manila folder into my lap, the slight touch of his fingers on my thigh making me jump. The corners of his mouth tipped up again, and I had the sudden urge to stun gun him. Or grab him. I hadn't quite decided.
"Vino Santinni works for a very influential family in Jersey," Ranger volunteered. "He took something that doesn't belong to him, and they hired me to get it back."
I didn't bother asking what it was. I hadn't had any luck earlier, so why waste my breath? Instead I studied Vino's picture. He was a pudgy man, greasy-looking, not unlike my cousin Vinnie. His hair was slicked back to his head, and he wore an expensive suit that did nothing to hide the extra baby fat on him. At least it looked like baby fat. His face was round and scowling in this picture. "Is he dangerous?"
"Minimally, but I'm going to wire you just in case. It'll take us maybe fifteen minutes to get in and out, and you need to keep his attention as long as possible. My guess is he'll have a few goons around, but they'll be in plainclothes and won't bother you if you don't look dangerous."
I hadn't managed to stay focused much past the being wired part. Ranger's hands underneath my skimpy red top had me in heat.
"I don't suppose you have a gun," he said.
I shook my head, running a hand through my heavily gelled hair. "Couldn't find anyplace to put it," I said, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Ranger's grip on the steering wheel tighten a fraction.
When we pulled up in front of the Ritz, I sucked in a breath. The last distraction job I did for Ranger didn't go extremely well, but it had gotten done. I was a little apprehensive, but I needed the money. And I needed to keep busy.
Ranger picked up a little black box with a snap closure, which I now recognized as a standard box for wires. See, I was learning. No grass growing in my brain, nope.
He turned to me and smiled. "You're going to have to take your jacket off, babe," he said, ripping off four small pieces of tape.
Oh, crap. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," I said, taking my seat belt off. My plan had been not to take the jacket off until he was well out of sight. Like Africa. Africa was good.
"Take it off." When I resisted, he reached out and in one lightning-fast motion had the jacket down at my waist, arms pinned to my sides with the heavy material. His eyes narrowed at the strips of bare flesh on each open side of the top, but he didn't say anything. He slipped the wire up beneath my shirt, and I forced myself not to squirm under the heat of his hands. Another second and it was secured with the pieces of tape, criss-crossed in two places.
"Thank you," I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. He slipped his hands out of my shirt, and then suddenly around to my back. I yelped and tried to scoot backwards from him, but his hands were hot and held me effortlessly. He looked me in the eye and put the full force of his eye of the tiger directly on me. My courage was disintegrating, and my nipples were shrinking. I hadn't bothered with a bra because a) I couldn't exactly wear one with this shirt, and b) well, I wasn't exactly sure why. My brain had taken a vacation, and didn't seem like it was coming back anytime soon.
"Babe," Ranger said, his dark eyes liquid pools of black. He toyed with one of the ties on my shirt, and smiled at me. "Wear this for me?"
I jumped away from him. "Don't flatter yourself." Actually I sort of had, but he didn't need to know that.
"Vino should be at the bar. Just be yourself, and you'll do fine. I'll be listening. When it's time to go I'll get your attention."
He pulled my jacket back up over my shoulders, and kissed me. Softly, more of a brush of his lips than a real passionate kiss. "Be careful," he said, as I leapt out of the Mercedes and hit the sidewalk.
And he was gone. I saw a black SUV go past right behind him, and knew it must be Tank and the rest of Ranger's Merry Men. Off to make the world a better place. At least for the Mob.
I shuddered, and tried not to think about it as I stepped inside the hotel. The lobby was beautiful, all marbled floors and high ceilings. The lounge was directly off to my left so I stepped inside, letting my eyes adjust to the light.
Vino was sitting at the bar, just like Ranger had said he would be. I learned long ago that Ranger knew things only Batman could know. Or Superman. The fact that he maybe just did his homework was unacceptable to me. I preferred Batman.
I slipped up onto a barstool beside Vino and ordered a margarita, straight up. I made sure to cross my legs enough that the top of my stocking would show. Sure enough, just like every man on the planet, that got his attention. His baby-fat covered face all but went red, and I wondered if he had any women at all pay any attention to him.
"Dammit," I said, setting my drink down. "I just hate when this happens." Vino looked at me, and I smiled. "It's so hard to be a single woman anymore. It's all pantyhose and short skirts and lesbian sex."
His eyes bulged, and I laughed, my best sexy laugh. More of a throaty chuckle.
"Lesbian sex, huh?" he said, his eyes on my thigh as I pulled the skirt down to half-heartedly cover up the top of the stocking.
I shrugged. "Men seem to like that sort of thing." I batted my eyelashes at him. "Do you?"
He went a bit more red. "'Course you do," I said. I leaned in close and played with his tie a little bit. He was pretty repulsive up close, and his aftershave was going to gag me. "We only do that on Tuesdays, though. Thursday is my group sex night."
He choked on the drink he'd just taken a sip of. "Oh, darn," I said, grabbing up a napkin and dabbing at the drips on his suit that ran from his chest dangerously close to his crotch. I needed another drink. Now. "Sorry about that. Am I being too forward again?" I asked him, batting more of my eyelashes. I don't know why I did it. It just seemed the thing to do.
"No, not at all," he said, his voice going oily and making my skin crawl. I ordered another drink and looked around the bar, hoping to see Ranger waving me out of there. I looked at the clock above the bar, praying fervently. It had only been about five minutes. Dammit.
"So, do you want to dance?" I asked him, trailing my fingertip around the rim of my glass and licking the lime off my fingertip. His eyes bulged more and I wondered when they were going to pop out of his head and roll across the floor. That made me feel minimally better, so I smiled.
He hesitated, and I grabbed his hand. It was hot and sweaty. Eeew!!! I managed to calm my mental shrieking and tugged on him as I hopped off my stool. "We don't even really have to dance," I said in a tone that I hoped was suggestive. Playing the sex kitten wasn't exactly my best role. I played myself much better.
He got down from the bar after tossing back the last of his drink and let me lead him out on the dance floor. A fast song was playing, and I quickly realized he wasn't much of a dancer. For Crissakes. He grabbed my hips and started bumping and grinding with me, suddenly all hands and fingers. Before I could stop myself I pushed him away and forced a laugh. "Un-unh, sweety. Just because I have lesbians over and group sex doesn't mean I'm easy."
Great line, Stephanie, I told myself, doing a mental forehead slap. I was being paid to do this. Be a professional, dammit. I forced myself to smile like I was enjoying the dancing, trying to get into the rhythm of the song. Vino, however, didn't seem to be having any problems.
The song ended after what seemed like an eternity, and we returned to the bar. I downed another drink and ordered one more. I was starting to feel all tingly inside, and like maybe I could do this right. I took another sip.
"So," I said, "are you married?"
Vino shook his head, his double chin wobbling a little bit. "Hell no. I had me a broad once, but she disappeared. Still don't know what happened to her. Maybe she ran off with the mailman, you know what I mean?"
What disturbed me more was that I was pretty sure I did know what he meant. Mailman was definitely just a figure of speech. Yikes.
"I'm not married either. Men just don't give you space anymore, you know? Then the next thing you know they're in a bar air-humping another woman." I picked an ice cube out of my drink and sucked on it, flashing him a smile. "Now, you wouldn't treat a woman like that, would you?"
Vino turned his bulgy eyes on me and grinned. It did nothing for his face but give him yet another chin, and I tried to hide a laugh. This guy was sad. He didn't look dangerous at all. "I spoil my women," he said, and I almost choked on my drink. His women? This guy was unbelievable.
"Your women? How many do you have?" I asked, widening my eyes, trying to look impressed.
Vino popped the olive from his dirty martini into his mouth and licked his lips. "I got enough," he said. His voice was oddly deep. It didn't go with his image at all. He was like a big Jabba the Hut with bronchitis. Ick.
I glanced at the clock. Three minutes to go until Ranger should be out and done. This was taking an eternity. My only hope was that the paycheck was big.
"So," he said, as another fast song came on. "You wanna dance one more time?"
I mentally shuddered and forced a perky smile. "Sure!" I said, and downed the last of my drink. I tried to hop off my stool and my legs went wobbly. I would have gone down, but Vino caught me up next to him.
"Woops," he said. "Better be careful. You're going to need your legs under you." He waggled his eyebrows, and I found the ability to push away from him. I walked out onto the dance floor and found what I decided was the rhythm of the song. Funny thing was, I was all warm and fuzzy inside, and that got me thinking about Morelli. And Ranger. And how I wanted to feel sexy again. But maybe not right now. Right now I was having a hard enough time standing up in my FMPs. Maybe I should stop drinking. Three was enough for fifteen minutes. Or was it four? I couldn't remember.
Vino was getting a little turned on by the bumping and grinding, and I increased the distance between us a fraction. This guy was giving me the creeps.
From the corner of my eye I saw a very large man, dressed in a black pinstripe suit not unlike Vino's. He was coming towards us, and I knew this must be one of the goons Ranger had warned me about. Shit, I thought. He knows what's up.
Just then my cell phone rang. "Oops," I said to Vino. "Could you excuse me for a second? My phone…" He frowned, and I made me escape the lobby.
"I'm idling at the curb," Ranger said, his voice tight. And he disconnected.
My heart started pounding. My knees went a little more wobbly. Somehow I made it through the doors, and sure enough, Ranger's black Mercedes was sitting at the curb, purring at me. I was almost sure it was purring.
The door was flung open and Ranger looked out at me. "Get in. Now."
I managed somehow to get in the car. Something was wrong, I knew, even through my alcohol-induced happy fog.
Just as I was pulling my leg inside the car, Vino and his goon burst through the door. He looked me right in the eye, his before non-threatening eyes suddenly large and crazy, and I knew a moment of true fear. I slammed my door closed and Ranger roared out of the parking lot.
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