Bosom Bodies (Mina's Adventures) (3 page)

He still seemed
unconvinced
,
but after checking his watch, Paco got back in his car, and started the engine. He turned to wave and then hit the gas. A year as the president of a software company hadn’t changed him much
.
To Mina, he remained a gentle and caring man.

At first, Mina walked around pretending deep interest in the architecture of the building, but after ten minutes on high heels and hard asphalt, she sat on the tire, hugging her knees to her chest and sending subliminal curses to the adult industry in general and to fans of Big Boobs in particular.

A rumbling engine perked up her attention.
Oh, no. It’s that annoying
Diego.
What’s he doing here? Where’s Barbara?

He rolled up just inches from her pointed-toe shoes, stopped the bike by the gate and unlocked it. Mina
stood while
Diego still sat there on that big roaring thing. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes. He removed the helmet and placed it on the gas tank. “Well, if it isn’t the tire fairy. Did you find it under a pillow?” He grinned—a grin tinged with sarcasm.

“Where is Barbara?” Mina refused to acknowledge his stupid remarks.

“Sunday is her day off. I’m opening up,” another smile, “after I watch you change the tire.” He was still straddling the Harley by the open gate. Mina managed to get the tire upright and slowly rolled it into the fenced parking area where her car sat. She leaned the tire against the passenger door of the Bug, rubbed the dirt from her hands and walked toward the entrance. A few minutes later Diego unlocked the door. Neither of them spoke. She headed for the women’s bathroom while he disarmed the security. By the time she washed up and changed clothes, three other employees had arrived. She called Triple A for someone to come and change her tire before she realized she forgot to b
ring the fake eyelashes. Oh
well, the red wig and the padded bra would have to do.

She recognized Lisa, the cashier, and one of the cute waitresses from the night before. Two other
women
were unfamiliar to her. Mina glanced into the kitchen to say hi to Angelina and maybe get something to eat. The toast she ate at noon left her with a growling stomach. No one was in the kitchen, not even Diego. Who would do the cooking?

Minutes after five o’clock, men trickled in
;
music blared from the hidden speakers. Sunday or not, it was business as usual at Bosom Bodies. Mina prayed no one sat at her station. She kept herself busy around the kitchen pass-through with an eye to the back door still wondering where everyone had
disappeared.

“Ginger, psst, Ginger.” Lisa motioned her to the back office.

What was going on?

“You calling me?”

“Yes. Angelina hasn’t showed up. That’s unusual. She is always on time. Diego will be alone in the kitchen. Since you are the newbie, you may have to help him out.”

“In the kitchen
,
” Mina started to say, “
h
elp that jerk?” but caught herself in time.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure the girls split the tips with you.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I don’t know a thing about cooking.”

Lisa shrugged, “There isn’t much to learn about what we cook here.”

Finally, something Mina could agree with.

“Okay. Can I change back to my own clothes?” she asked. A noise came from the kitchen, the sound of pots and pans crashing to the concrete floor. Mina and Lisa rushed over. Angelina was crouched down picking up the objects of the crash.

“There you are,” Lisa said. “What happened?”

Angelina looked up, shrugged and
went back to collecting the cookware. T
here was a large bruise under her right eye.
Before Mina could ask about it,
Diego
came from the freezer area and s
tarted to scrape the grill
. He seemed oddly oblivious to
all the commotion.

“Angelina, do you need help with that?” Mina said

The young woman shook her head. She looked so sad and helpless. Who hit her in the face?

“Let’s get back to work,” Lisa said. The remark was aimed at Mina. Happy hour was in full swing. Most of the tables were taken, even the ones Mina was in charge of.
Maledizione.
She adjusted her “Ginger” nametag, grabbed the notepad and sashayed over to her first table of four. The strut was strictly for Diego, in case he was ogling.

At Mina’s first table, a woman sat with three men.
Mina liked that, thinking she wouldn’t have to put up with lewd comments about the prominent part of her—top. All four wore suits, another welcome exception to the casual surrounding.

For the first time since she set foot in Bosom Bodies, Mina wore a genuine smile to greet the customers. One of the men, his back to her, erupted into a laugh. Something familiar about that laugh brought Mina to a stop. She studied his back, the way the sleek dark hair brushed his shirt collar, his broad shoulders still shaking from the laugh.
No, not Brian’s buddy Detective
DeFiore
.
Of course it had to be him. The only Italian characteristic about
DeFiore
was his
last
name and that came from his stepdad. Everything else, especially his hair, was pure Asian.

Now
the suits and the woman, it all made sense. They were cops, possibly celebrating the good outcome of a case. Happy hour to be had by all! What sh
ould she do, h
ide in the bathroom like the day before? And then what? While she pondered the situation, the woman at the table
seemed to
notice
Mina. She
motioned her over.

Mina walked to the table making sure she stayed behind
DeFiore
’s chair. He would need to make a complete turn to see her face. Pad and pencil ready, she smiled at the woman and waited for the order. She planned to avoid speaking.
DeFiore
might recognize her accent.

The man to DeFiore’s left waved his hand over the table. “Can we get some appetizers—like maybe sometime today?”

Mina nodded and pointed to the colorful menu folded in the center of the table.

“Something wrong with your voice—Ginger?” It was an impatient question.

“Oh, sorry, my throat.” Mina covered her mouth and coughed lightly.

“Hey, if you’
re sick
,
you shouldn’t be serving food. Get someone else
.”

“Gladly,” Mina said louder than necessary.

“Mina?”
DeFiore
spun on the stool so they were face to face.
He
recognized her? She only said one word.

“Sir, my name is Ginger.” She pointed to her
nametag
while trying to tell him to shut up with her eyes.

The way he looked at her, she wanted to die, but she wanted to kill him first because he immediately began laughing
at her
. “What the hell are you doing here, and dressed like that?” He said ‘like that’ while staring at the padded part of her T-shirt. His eyes traveled up to the red wig. “Kid, Halloween was last month.”

“Sir, you are mistaking me for someone else.” She smiled sweetly and
,
while looking straight into his eyes, stomped his foot with her heel. “My name is Ginger, can I take your order?”

He winced but said nothing.

After she collected everyone’s order she turned away and overheard the woman ask, “You know her?”

Mina didn’t hear De
Fiore’s answer, but she did notice Diego standing by the glass divider with his arms crossed, watching her.

Mina couldn’t sleep. She blamed the unfamiliar noises of her new place, but unfortunately it wasn’t that simple. Paola, her mother, had spent her life creating, building for the future. It hurt Mina to know after her mother was murdered, Paola’s life
, from Mina’s point of view,
w
ould be
dismantle
d and sold off piece-by-piece—h
er car, her magnificent home, and now her business.

The next morning, Mina, Paco and Adams, the lawyer, would meet with a group of foreign
venture capitalist
s
pro
posing a majority investment in
West Coast Software.

“Mina, you know Paola would have approved,” Adams said. “She would have told you
a merger or other major cash influx
is the only way to take the company to the next level.”

If only there was someone Mina could talk to
about all the unexpected turns happening in her life
. Brian had not called since Saturday night. She missed him, but his traveling through Europe was convenient in one way at least. If he’d been here, Mina knew
DeFiore
would have rushed to ask his buddy Brian what Mina was doing moonlighting at
Bosom Bodies
.

Recalling the look on
DeFiore
’s face when she stepped on his foot made her giggle in the dark. Thank God she was done with that so-called job. After the office meeting tomorrow she would return the clothes, wig and padding to Barbara, wish everyone a great life, and move on with hers. Maybe she’d give a small gift to Angelina. Her sad little face haunted Mina. With some luck, Monday
c
ould be Diego’s day off, and she wouldn’t need to deal with him.

It would be considerate to wash the uniform before returning it
. That’s why she brought it home.
Her washing ma
chine had yet to be installed, s
ame with the dryer. This was her first home—so many things to take care of. Mina fell asleep thinking about her mother and how different life would be if she hadn’t been murdered.

Not bad. Mina examined herself in the bathroom mirror. The suit fit pretty good. First time she had worn it in six months. Made her look—old. Maybe old wasn’t the right word, maybe more grown up and wise? Right now Mina wished she had glasses to wear. People with glasses were always taken more seriously. Lawyers, professors and presidents wore glasses. Where could she get some?

The phone rang. Mina rushed to her bedroom. It could be Brian. “Hello?”

“Hey Mina.” She recognized Margo’s voice. The fact that Mina was technically her boss didn’t keep Margo from treating her like an old friend. Mina was okay with that. Both had survived life-threatening experiences at the time of Paola’s death, and both came through stronger. They formed a bond, the kind of bond only women seem to understand.

“Yes, Margo?”

“Oh, good, you’re awake. Paco said, ‘No rush.’ The meeting is postponed by an hour. Flight delay or something. Whatcha wearing?”

“My dark blue suit.”

“That weddings and funerals thing again? Don’t you have something more cheerful? I tell you what, I’ll lend you my jewelry, have some earrings in my desk drawer and I can run home and get a necklace or a nice brooch.”

Mental pictures of Margo’s gaudy jewelry flashed through Mina’s head. “Thanks Margo, that’s very nice of you. Adams told me to keep it subdued, I have to look… restrained
.
”
Good choice of word.
“Okay, Margo, see you later. Thanks.”

An hour to kill? Boring. What could she do for an hour? The small pile of laundry on the bedroom floor called her name. Good idea. She picked up the uniform and
bra
,
went into the bathroom and filled the sink with warm water. There wasn’t any laundry soap. Mina squirted shampoo in the water. If it was good enough for hair, it should be good enough for clothes. The Bosom Bodies T-shirt was the hardest one to wash.
Cheap rhinestones covered the lettering on the front.
She couldn’t rub
too hard in case the rhinestones came unglued and fell off.
Five minutes later she was done. Where should she put the laundry to dry? The terrace of her fourth story condo looked sunny and inviting. Mina went outside. Should she drape the wet garments over the banister? Something about the idea didn’t feel right. Water would drip on the terrace below. She went back inside and hung the laundry around the bathroom.

An hour later, Mina parked her Bug in the spot reserved for Calvi, her last name. Every time she stepped inside West Coast Software, the bulk of her repressed emotions came hurling back. Margo sat at her desk wearing her usual double serving of make up and flaunting enough glitter to decorate South Coast Plaza’s Christmas tree.

“Hi, Margo, am I early?"

“A little, just enough for you to mind the phones while I run to the john.”

Before Mina could argue, the door to the bathroom swished closed on Margo’s flouncy skirt. Mina sighed. The receptionist chair had been replaced with a new one, but other things hadn’t changed.