“So, how are things going with Cynthia?”
Mitch gave me a vacant look. “Who?”
“Cynthia, the cute grad student you met in the grocery store last week,” I attempted to jog his memory. “You went on a couple of dates, and things seemed to be going well . . .”
“Oh, yeah, Cynthia. That didn’t work out. I broke up with her.”
Damn, that was quick. I’d gotten lectures from my mother that had lasted longer.
“Are you sure that you gave the relationship a fair chance?”
“I tried, Doc, I really did, but the woman was boring with a capital B. Do you know what she’s studying at school? Management Science.”
“I’m not familiar with that field.”
“It’s got something to do with business,” he elucidated as best he could. “All I know is that Cynthia spent just about every minute we were together droning on and on about stuff like applied statistics and mathematical modeling. It was a total turn-off.”
“I’m sure that that didn’t stop you from sleeping with her.” The acerbic comment slipped out before I could stop it.
Instead of taking offense, Mitch chuckled. “What can I say? She was hot. Too bad she didn’t have the personality to match her looks.”
“Yes, too bad,” I murmured as I jotted down some thoughts about the demise of his relationship with Cynthia.
“Are you disappointed in me?”
I was actually. I’d thought that I was making some progress with Mitch, but he appeared to be reverting back to his old man whore ways.
“The question is: Are you disappointed in yourself?” I turned the query back on him, which was the oldest trick in the shrink book.
Mitch chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment. “I guess I should have taken Cynthia’s feelings into consideration. Having sex with her when I knew that there wasn’t any future for the relationship, then dumping her the next day wasn’t very nice.”
“It’s good that you realize your mistake, and hopefully you’ll think twice before doing it again.”
“I’m not making any promises,” he said with an impudent grin that made his dimples deepen.
I sighed inwardly and made another note in my pad . . . Patient still has a long way to go. On the bright side, that was $300 a week I could depend on for a while, and my bank account needed all the help it could get.
* * *
“Your sister’s a pain-in-the-ass,” Sara stated bluntly as she circled a model, who was standing in the middle of her showroom wearing an electric blue two-piece that looked like it was made out of suede.
“I know, but I couldn’t leave her in jail.”
“It might have done her some good. If she had to suffer some consequences for her actions once in a while, she might drop that spoiled wild child act of hers. No, no, this is all wrong. Where are your boobs?” Sara gestured at the human hanger’s almost-concave chest. “Have you lost weight since I hired you? Because I need curvy bods in my bathing suits, not skeletons.”
She walked behind the model and started to pull on her bikini bottom. “You’re not filling this suit out at all. It’s puckering up everywhere.”
“I guess I could eat something,” the model suggested timidly.
“Well, there’s a wacky idea,” Sara’s voice dripped sarcasm. “What do you think, Pilar?”
“I’m always pro-eating.”
“I need some fattening food over here NOW!” Sara screamed, then snapped her fingers in the air imperiously.
Almost immediately, two male assistants came running with arms full of packaged snacks. Sara took a green box from one of them and scrutinized it. “Healthy Choice makes cookies! Are you kidding me? I’ll bet they taste like cardboard.” She tossed the box over her shoulder, and it barely missed my head as it whizzed by.
“I want something with lots of sugar, calories, and fat. Where are the Girl Scouts when you need them? I’d kill for a Thin Mint!”
A flunky tentatively offered her a bag of Double Stuf Oreos.
“Now this is what I’m talking about.” Smiling happily, Sara ripped open the cellophane. She crammed two of the chocolate-and-cream sandwich cookies into her mouth before shoving the bag at the model with the protruding hip bones. “Eat those and don’t come back until you’ve gained at least four pounds. Next!”
A voluptuous blonde Amazon emerged from behind a folding screen in a sexy red one-piece.
“Wow! That looks great!” I marveled at the suit.
“If I cinch it in at the waist a little bit, it’ll emphasize her hourglass figure even more.” Sara took some straight pins out of the small cushion she wore on an elastic band around her wrist.
“So, how are you going to handle this lack of funds problem?” she queried as she pinched up some fabric and started pinning.
“Beats me. It’s not like I have a lot of options. I can’t go to anyone in the family without ratting out Izzy and I can’t get a loan from the bank without collateral.”
Sara eyed me sympathetically. “If I had an extra penny to my name, you know I’d give it to you.”
“I know and I appreciate that, but you’ve got your own troubles.”
She frowned worriedly. “Thanks for reminding me. If I don’t make a serious impression on the buyers at this show and give my investors a return on their money, I’ll probably end up in a sweatshop in Mumbai, making fifty cents an hour.”
“Things are going to work out.”
“For both of us,” she assured me.
“Okay, that’s it, Nicola. Be careful when you take the suit off. I don’t want you to get stuck by any of the pins.”
The statuesque woman strutted back to the changing area.
Putting her hands on her hips, Sara pivoted around to face me. “So, your relatives and the bank are out. Who else can you turn to in your time of need?”
“Well, there is one person . . .” Although I didn’t say his name, Sara was quick to figure out who I was referring to.
“Oh no, Pilar!” She grabbed me by the arms. “Don’t do it. Don’t sell your soul to that bed-hoppin’, Gucci Pour Homme-wearin’ devil. Become an exotic dancer. Sell your O-negative to a blood bank. Anything but that.”
“Victor’s not as reprehensible as you think. Morally bankrupt, yes, but all that matters to me now is that he’s got cold, hard cash, and he’ll probably be willing to help me out.”
“No doubt, but what’s the Latin Lothario going to want in return?” She arched a brow inquisitively.
“It would just be a short-term loan, a business transaction.”
“With no strings attached? Yeah, right,” she scoffed.
“I can handle Victor.”
“He’ll probably be the one handling you.”
“Have a little confidence in me, please.” I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and dialed in Victor’s number before I could lose my nerve.
“Mi amada, what a wonderful surprise! I was just thinking about you, your soft skin, your beautiful lips, your—”
UGH Was he on the make 24/7?
“Victor, I need to see you.”
“At last, you’ve come to your senses!”
“I need to see you to discuss an important business matter.” I wanted to be sure he understood that this get-together had absolutely nothing to do with romance.
“But, of course. I’m here to offer whatever assistance I can.”
I was counting on it.
“I’ll come by the restaurant in an hour.”
“Hasta luego.”
I switched the phone off and was met with a disapproving look from my best friend.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said.
So do I, I thought uneasily. So do I.
* * *
“Pilar! Long time, no see,” the manager of Liscano’s greeted me with a warm hug that probably would have made Victor apoplectic if he’d been witness to it.
“Javier, it’s so good to see you. I like the goatee.” I playfully chucked his chin where the new facial hair had grown.
“Angel’s not so thrilled,” he confessed. “She’s threatening to divorce me if I don’t get rid of it.”
I got a mental image of Javier’s tiny firecracker of a wife standing in the middle of their kitchen with a baby on one hip and a toddler clinging to her skirt, while she cursed out her spouse in Spanish and hurled dishes at him like lethal frisbees, and it made me laugh. “I guess you’d better shave then.”
“Are you here to see Victor?” Javier wondered.
“Yes, we’re meeting to talk about business.” I felt compelled to make that perfectly clear. I didn’t want Javier or anyone else in the restaurant to think that there was a reconciliation in the works.
“I’ll let him know you’re here.” Javier moved over to the phone at the hostess stand, picked up the receiver, and dialed in the extension to Victor’s office.
“Boss, Pilar is . . . okay, I’ll tell her.” Hanging up, he turned to me. “Victor said to go on back to the office where the two of you can have some privacy.”
Privacy? That was the last thing I wanted to have with my handsy ex.
“Tell him that I prefer to meet out here in the restaurant.” Where there were lots of people, and I didn’t have to worry about him pouncing on me.
Javier picked up the phone again and relayed my counter-offer to Victor. He listened to the other man’s response, then covered up the mouthpiece and said, “He insists that you come back.”
“Well, I insist that he come out.”
Javier hesitated, obviously not keen on transmitting my message, and I could hardly blame him. Victor never reacted well when he didn’t get his way. In fact, he was the biggest hissy fit thrower I’d ever known and that included all of the children in my family.
Heaving a beleaguered sigh, I commanded, “Give me the phone,” and Javier happily surrendered it.
In a sweet, cajoling voice, I said, “Victor, if you come out here and join me at a table, we can order drinks and have some dinner. I’m starving.”
“But I have a surprise for you here in my office, mi querida.”
“I don’t want a surprise,” I muttered through gritted teeth.
“If you don’t want my surprise, then I don’t want to talk business with you.”
He was blackmailing me? That slimy, manipulative son of a—
“Okay, fine, I’ll come back to your office.” It galled me to capitulate, but what else could I do? I wasn’t going to get my money by arguing with Victor on the phone all night.
So, back to his office I went. As I maneuvered my way through the crowded area around the bar, I received appreciative glances from several attractive men who were clearly on the prowl. Normally, I would have ignored them, but knowing that Victor wouldn’t like it, I gifted each of them with a flirty smile.
When I reached the door to Victor’s office, I took a moment to compose myself, then I knocked. My erstwhile boyfriend answered, looking every inch the suave player he was, his black hair slicked back with at least two bottles of gel (YUCK I loathed it when men put product in their hair.), and his pale yellow shirt unbuttoned halfway down so that an enticing (or so he thought) strip of his toned, suntanned chest could be seen. At least, he wasn’t wearing any gold chains around his neck, and for that, I was grateful.
“Pilar, mi amor.” He kissed my hand and I let him, then he slowly pulled me through the doorway.
Upon entering Victor’s office, I immediately saw what my “surprise” was. The room was dark except for the soft glow of light coming from four floating candles that were being used as the centerpiece for a small table. The table was covered with a beautiful red cloth, which had been hijacked from the restaurant, and dishes filled with colorful, delicious-smelling food were spread out on its surface.
“I had the chef prepare all your favorites,” Victor said as he led me to the feast. “Artichoke Bruschetta, Coconut Scallops, Chimichurri Beef Tenderloin, Mojo Grilled Chicken Breast, and for dessert—”
“I didn’t come here to eat, Victor,” I asserted, sliding my hand out of his.
He frowned. “But you said you were ‘starving’ not two minutes ago.”
“I lost my appetite.” I couldn’t very well tell him that my hunger had just been a ploy to lure him out to the restaurant.
“Well, this is very disappointing.” Victor sulked. “I went to a lot of trouble to set this dinner up for you. I thought that you’d enjoy a good meal after a long day at work.”
It was a nice gesture and I hated to see a grown man pout, so I yielded. “I suppose I could eat a little bruschetta.”
“Bueno!” Victor held out a chair for me.
“But I want you to turn on the lights and turn off the music first.”
Did I forget to mention the music? Since I’d entered the room, the sultry sounds of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game” had been emanating from the speakers of Victor’s expensive CD player. This was a track off of my ex’s “special” disc of romantic tunes, or as I liked to call it, “Songs to Seduce a Gullible Woman By.” If memory served me correctly, the next track on his playlist was Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing,” and there was no damn way I was going to break bread with Victor while listening to that.
“But you look so beautiful by candlelight,” he protested, and I gave him my fiercest, ‘don’t-mess-with-me’ look.
I took a seat as he flipped on the lights and killed the make-out music.
“Better?” he queried as he sat down across from me.
“Much.”
“Please, help yourself to whatever you like. I have some Chilean Merlot.” He reached for a bottle of red wine.
“Nothing alcoholic for me, thanks.” I needed to keep my wits about me. Wine and Victor Liscano were too dangerous a combination.
“Bottled water?”
I nodded my assent, and he poured some in my wine glass.
“About my reason for wanting to see you . . .”
“Are you sure you don’t want something else to eat?” Victor asked as he gazed disparagingly at my plate. “Some bread with a little dip on it is hardly a proper dinner. Why don’t you have some of the scallops?” He pushed the seafood dish towards me.
“I’m fine, thanks.” I pushed it back.
“Andreas will be so upset. He made these scallops with extra spicy sauce just for you.”
“Can we focus on something other than food for a minute, please? I’ve got a major problem, problems plural actually, and until they’re resolved, eating is not my top priority.”
“Then, tell me what these problems are, and I will make them disappear.”
I placed my elbows on the table and leaned forward. “What I’m about to say is highly confidential, so I need you to swear that you will not breathe a word of it to anyone, especially my parents.”
“Ah, Pilar, I am honored that you want to share your secrets with me, that you are willing to put your trust in me once again.” He reached for my hand, but I pulled back before he could capture it.
“This has got nothing to do with our romantic relationship, Victor. I am confiding in you as a friend. Now, can I rely on your discretion or not?”
“May God strike me dead with a bolt of lightning and let vultures make a meal of my charred remains if I ever betray you.”
Those terms seemed agreeable to me, so I proceeded.
“Izzy was arrested on Monday.”
“Dios mio!” He threw his hands up in the air. “Why?”
“It’s a long and involved story. Suffice it to say, that the charges are very serious, and she could end up doing jail time if her lawyer can’t get them dropped or convince a jury that she’s innocent.”
“And your family doesn’t know about any of this?”
I shook my head. “Izzy didn’t want to involve Ana or our parents. I bailed her out of jail and got her a good defense attorney, which pretty much wiped me out. On top of that, I received notice that the rent on my office has been raised $1000 a month effective immediately. I’m just so overwhelmed by it all. I want to do right by my sister, but I can’t bear to lose my practice. You know how much it means to me, Victor, how hard I’ve—”
He held up his hand. “Say no more. What’s mine is yours.”
“Really?” I hadn’t dared to hope that getting a loan from my former lover would be so easy.
With a shrug, he said, “What good is my wealth if I can’t use it to help the people I love?”
Victor Liscano, the altruist? This was a side of him I’d never seen before. Maybe if he’d shown it to me sooner, our relationship wouldn’t have failed?
He got up from his chair and came over to kneel down in front of me. “Tell me how much money it will take to put a smile back on your beautiful face.”
“I hadn’t really thought of a specific amount. I just need enough to cover the hike in my rent for a few months while I work on building up my clientele, and then there are Izzy’s legal expenses. She’s promised to get a job so that she can help out with those, but—”
Victor placed his hands over mine. “Ten thousand? Twenty? Fifty?”
My mind reeled. “How about five?”
“I can go to the bank in the morning and get you cash.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Anything for you, mi cariña.” Victor’s brown eyes radiated warmth and sincerity. Wow, I had really underestimated him. He wasn’t just a shallow, self-centered taker; he was a decent man who was capable of giving out of the goodness of his heart.
“Thank you so much for this, Victor. You’ve really come through for me.”
On impulse, I hugged him. He wrapped his arms around me, giving me a gentle squeeze in return, and I have to admit it felt good. I was always the pillar of strength, the one my patients, friends, and family leaned on, but there Victor was providing me with support, both financial and emotional, and it felt like such a huge relief. I was happy, grateful, hopeful about the future . . . of course, all of these positive sensations were quickly replaced by irritation when he began to nuzzle the nape of my neck.
Before I could tell him to cut it out, he’d unhooked the back of my bra with one smooth flick of his wrist and was reaching up the front of my blouse to grab . . . well, I’m sure that you can guess which part of my anatomy he was aiming for.
I shoved the furtive groper away with such force that he fell backwards on to his butt.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I screeched as I jumped to my feet and struggled to close my bra clasp.
“I was trying to comfort you, mi amor.”
“By removing my undergarments?” I was incredulous.
He stood and used his hand to brush the lint from the carpet off the seat of his expensive trousers. “I am giving you $5000.”
“And you think that that entitles you to sex?”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “It is a lot of money.”
“Which I had planned to pay you back with interest, you oversexed creep! God!” I started to pace back and forth. “I can’t believe how stupid I was! I thought that you were being nice, that you really wanted to help me, but you were just trying to buy your way back into my bed.”
I picked my purse up off the table and prepared to leave.
“Pilar.” He took a step towards me, looking contrite.
“Save it. You’ve disappointed me for the last time, Victor.”
Turning my back on him, I stormed out of the office and slammed the door shut behind me.
“Men . . . ARGH!” I groaned aloud with frustration and got some frightened looks from a couple of guys sitting at the bar.