Just One (Dangerously Dimpled) (3 page)

“Oh Charlotte, my, you are a surprise.
Here I thought you’d be hiding out with the help, suffering through every
moment until you could run back home. Instead I find you with…with Alex.” She
finishes the sentence awkwardly, as though strained. For a moment that
ever-present debutant smile slides from her face, but she recovers quickly. “What
a story you’ll have to tell when you get back to the trailer park.” Cadence’s
words drip with condescension.

She yanks the door open and steps
through, immediately lost amidst the throng of beautiful guests. I hesitate. I
can feel his eyes watching me. The hand he laid on the small of my back as we
danced feels as though it branded my skin, the outline of it hot and
uncomfortable. A minute longer and I’d have let him round third base on course
for a home run.

I never thought it possible, but I ought
to be grateful to Cadence Spelling. She saved me from making a huge mistake.
Alex Ramirez and I are from two different worlds. I step into the air
conditioning, and let the door close behind me.

“What’d you wish for?”

“My lips are sealed on this one.” A sly
smile flitters across Paige’s mouth. The button-sized dimples make her look
like a little girl. She learned early on, the power of those dimples. The world
has been at her mercy ever since.

“But you always tell me. You tell me what
you wish for and I-”

“You make sure it comes true,” she
finishes.

Six months after our Mama died, I’d found
Paige crying in our parent’s closet. Bundled in Mama’s old terrycloth robe,
tears streamed down her pudgy eight-year old face.

“
What’s
the matter, baby girl?”

Paige
shook her head violently, her platinum hair stuck to her cheeks.

“Please
don’t cry. You can tell me what’s the matter. I won’t tell nobody, I promise.”

Her
bottom lip quivered but her blue eyes, so light and clear they looked like quartz,
looked up at me. “I’m never gonna get my birthday wish ever again.”

I
closed the door behind me and wiggled in next to my little sister, wrapping my
arm around her slender shoulders. “Now why would you think a thing like that?
Don’t you know birthday wishes are the most powerful wishes of all?”

“More
powerful than eyelash wishes?” she sniffled.

“More
powerful than ladybug wishes too. When you blow out your candles and make a
wish, God himself hears it and makes sure it comes true.”

Paige
let out a low groan and her small body shook from the force of a powerful sob.
“I… I…,” she hiccupped, “I wished for Mama to not be sick last year, and it
didn’t come true. God hates me, Charlie!”

 
“Paige Jolene Davies, don’t you say such
a wicked thing! God doesn’t hate you. He don’t hate nobody.”

“Then
why didn’t he make her better? Why’d he take her away?”

“He
needed a new angel is all. He must’ve looked down at us from Heaven and seen
how pretty and sweet she was and he just had to have her by his side.”

“But
you said he can hear birthday wishes. I wished for her not to have cancer and
he didn’t listen.”

“Who
says? She doesn’t have cancer anymore, does she? He took away all her pain and
cancer. Now she gets to live in a fancy house up in Heaven.”

“What
kind of house?” Paige’s cries subsided.

“Oh
it’s a grand old house with a windy staircase and a fireplace in every room.”

“Does
it have a pool?”

“Of
course it does! And it’s got a tire swing in the front yard and a chicken coop
in the back.”

Paige
remained quiet for several minutes. I hummed softly, inhaling her sweet scent,
content to sit in the closet with her for as long as she needed me.

“Charlie?”

“Yes?”

“Know
what I’m gonna wish for this year?”

“Tell
me.”

“I’m
gonna wish for a horse so I can be a horseback rider when I grow up.”

Of
all the things she could’ve wished for, none seemed further out of reach than
that. The only horses Paige and I were ever likely to ride were the plastic
ones outside the K-Mart.

“Why
do you want to be a horseback rider?” I asked, cautiously.

“So
I can be famous and make lots of money. Then I can move to Dallas and live in a
big fancy house. Just like Mama’s in Heaven.”

“You
don’t like it here?”

“I
don’t belong here, Charlie.”

Even
at twelve years old, I knew she was right.

Later that day, I took a hammer to my
piggy bank. Three years of babysitting, countless aluminum cans turned in for
recycling, and every birthday dollar I’d ever received gave me just enough to
buy a year’s worth of riding lessons for Paige that birthday.

It was the best money I ever spent and
every year since, I’ve made it my personal mission to make her birthday wish
come true.

“C’mon, Paige, tell me. How can I make
sure that wish is going to come true if you don’t spill.”

“Sorry, Charlie.” She embraces me in a
hug. “This time there’s nothing you can do. Besides, it’s time you start
working on your own dreams.”

“Meaning?”

Paige’s crystalline eyes blink innocently
at me.

The doe-eyed look is a sure giveaway. “Alright,
who is he?”

“Who?”

“The guy you want to set me up with.”

She rolls her eyes and drops the act.
“You don’t have to say it like that! He’s a successful trader, dairy futures I
think, and he told Ken he’s looking to settle down. Stop shaking your head like
that, Charlie.”

“I knew it.” I raise an eyebrow. “I knew
when you were trussing me up like Miss Texas you were going to try and set me
up with someone.”

“I’m only thinking of your best interest.
You are my sister after all.” Paige crosses her arms. One gloriously pointed
heel taps against the marble. “Why’s it such a crime to want to see you settled
and happy? You ain’t getting any younger, you know.”

“Oops. Careful, baby girl. Your trailer
park is showin’.”

“Ugh, you’re so infuriating! Just like
Daddy. Pig-headed and stubborn as a couple of mules.”

I stand my ground, unmoved by her
indignation.

I look around us for my intended beau. It
could be any of these guys. They’ve all got the perfect hair, pressed linens,
and pearly-white orthodontia bought with old money -- Paige’s favorite virtue.
I’m plotting my escape when I see Alex. He’s leaning against the bar to our
right with Cadence and a couple of people I don’t know. They all have that
effortlessly comfortable air of success. He belongs there, not in the garden
with me.

“Fine.” I sigh. “You win. Who is he?”

Paige claps and her heels clack excitedly
against the floor. “He’s just over there.” She points a polished finger in the
opposite direction of Alex. “Standing next to Ken.”

Ken is standing with his back to us but
there’s no mistaking his thick, sandy hair. To his left is a man in his
mid-forties. His tanned arms bulge with muscles beneath a bright pink polo
shirt. Paige must think I’m getting desperate. This guy’s old enough to be my
father. Though admittedly, he’s got a killer smile.

“Daddy’d have a fit if I dated someone
that old, Paige,” I whisper.

“No, not him. That’s Ken’s golf pro. You
should be so lucky. I hear he’s hung like a horse.”

I gasp. “Baby girl!”

“Oh stop it. I’m no more a baby than you
are a virgin, Saint Charlie.”

She’s got me there.

“Besides, he’s taken. It’s
that
guy.” The man on Ken’s right turns
in our direction. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Oh no, not that guy.”

“Don’t be a snob. He’s nice.” She’s still
pointing in their direction.

I lower her arm and keep hold of her
hand. “No way, Paige. I’ve already met him and I wasn’t impressed.”

“When? When did you meet him?”

“Earlier, in the garden. I was out there
with Alex and-”

“Alex? Alex Ramirez?” She gapes at me,
ready and longing for gossip. “You were in the garden with Alex Ramirez? What
happened? How’d you meet?” She squeezes my hand in a death-grip and pulls me
closer.

“Good grief, calm down. I sort of fell
over and he helped me up. Anyway it’s your fault. If you hadn’t forced me to
wear these stupid shoes I wouldn’t have gone tail over tits in the hydrangea.”

“Forget about the shoes and tell me what
happened.”

“I just told you what happened. What makes
you think
anything
happened?” I’m a
terrible liar. I swallow and wait.

“Oh my God…you like him.” It’s more an
expression of wonder than an accusation. Why liking Alex Ramirez stirs such
amazement in my sister’s eyes is beyond me.

“I don’t like him, I hardly know him.
Anyway, what’s got you so riled up? Is it outside the realm of possibility that
I’d be interested in a hot guy with dark eyes and two, uh, two… eyes?” Paige
knows my weakness for dimples. Better to let her think I’ve gone senile than admit
Alex’s lured me in.

“You’re my sister and I love you to bits
so listen to me. I’m going to give you some good advice. Stay away from Alex
Ramirez.”

I can’t help it. I turn and look in his
direction. Our connection in the garden was magnetic. Just knowing he’s in the
same room is playing haywire with my better judgment.

 
The little group around him are laughing,
but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. To the casual observer, Alex fits like a
midlife crisis and a red corvette in this crowd. But for a moment tonight, I
saw the man behind the suit. The smile he’s wearing is as fake as Cadence
Spelling’s C-cup.

Paige squeezes my hand. “He’s just… He’s
not for you, Charlie.”

I suppose I saw that one coming.
Reluctantly, I put on a brave face and turn back to Paige. “So, the dairy
trader, huh?”

Her entire body reflects her sigh of
relief. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you. He’s not bad once you get to know him.”

I’ll reserve judgment. I allow Paige to
pull me toward Ken, the golf pro and the stockbroker. I throw a last fleeting
look over my shoulder at Alex.

 
He’s staring right at me. His glass is
halfway to the lips I nearly kissed out in the garden.

I’m not burdened with an over-abundance
of confidence but there are two things I’m absolutely certain about. First, I’m
certain I will never trade my cowboy boots for a pair of stilettos…ever again. Second,
my pumpkin-carriage is about to turn back into a trailer and there’s not enough
magic in this world to turn me into a princess, Pueblo or otherwise. Not even a
birthday wish.

“Eight,
please.”

The
elderly woman moves like a glacier but finally pushes the button marked eight.
The doors begin to close and for the first time tonight, I allow myself to
truly unwind.

“Hold
the elevator!”

His
voice propels me into action. I jump in front of the old lady and violently
hold down the Close Door button.

“He
wants us to hold the elevator, dear. You’re pushing the wrong button.”

“Shh,”
I hiss, my eyes wild. She flattens herself against the elevator wall.

Just
as the doors are about closed, a caramel-colored hand reaches between them and
the Ritz-Carlton’s fancy elevator, equipped with sensors to avoid limb
amputation, opens.
Damn.

Alex’s
look of success is quickly replaced by surprise. “Charlie…hi?”

“Alex.”
I make room for him inside the small space. He gives a polite smile to the
other frazzled passenger. “Thanks for holding it for me.”

“You’re
welcome.” I glare at the old lady, daring her to contradict me. She doesn’t.

“It
must be my lucky day; you’ve already pushed my button. Eight.”

Of course.

I
can’t stop the ironic smile from springing to my lips. He returns it with a
hint of confusion. “I saw you and Paige talking to Spencer. You decide to give
him another chance?”

I
knew he was watching. I could feel his eyes following me around the room.
“Paige wanted me to meet him.” The elevator rises slowly, in contrast to the quick
beating of my heart.

“Don’t
tell me she actually wants to fix you up with that clown?”

I
meet Alex’s eyes briefly and give him a tight-lipped grimace. The white-haired
woman against the wall coughs and I shoot a warning glance in her direction.
She jumps out of my line of sight.
Now
she’s
fast. “He’s not so bad.”

“How’s
that?” Alex redirects his gaze to the rising digital floor display. Four, five…

“Well,
he does volunteer a lot at the youth shelter.”

Alex
snorts. I can practically hear his eyes rolling.

“
And
…he’s got a boat. It’s a big one,
from what I hear.”

The
elevator chimes and the doors sweep open. The old woman scoots past Alex and
practically runs out onto the plush carpeting of the sixth floor.

“What
was that about?” Alex asks as the doors close.

I
shrug. “No idea.”

As
the cab rises, my belly does a somersault. Trapped in the elevator, alone, with
Alex, I feel like I’m on the world’s slowest rollercoaster. Seven, eight…

“I’ve
got a boat.”

“What?”
The chime sounds.

“Nothing,”
he says quickly, smiling tightly at me.

The
doors open on our mutual floor. Alex stands aside and ushers me into the
hallway before him. I should’ve removed these damn shoes the minute I was out
of Paige’s sight. I cautiously place one foot in front of the other, determined
not to fall over twice in one night.

Alex
follows, his pace matching my slow gait. The sign on the wall points me to the
right and I smile back at him. “Well, goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight
then,” he responds in a low voice.

I
take a few shaky steps in the direction of my room and Alex resumes his walk
behind me. He’s not--

“I’m
not following you.”

I
worry that I may’ve voiced my suspicion out loud. “Oh, I, uh, I didn’t think
you were.”

“My
room’s down this hallway.” He points. “Eight twenty-three.”

Of course.
Just three rooms down from me.

 
“I guess we’re neighbors then.” I force
my aching feet to carry me faster, but he remains hot on my heels. “At least
you know where you can borrow a cup of sugar!” I cackle over my shoulder,
cringing at my high-pitched attempt at humor.
Pathetic. This is no time for bad jokes, Charlie…

As
Alex reaches his door, I stutter-stop next to him, secretly hoping to get a
glimpse inside. A set of pink luggage may explain his behavior in the garden.

He
smiles and places his keycard in the reader. The light flashes green and he
turns the handle. “Goodnight, Charlie.” His voice is soft, practically a
whisper. But he doesn’t walk inside.

I
hold my breath and meet his eyes. They’re as dark and hooded as they were in
the garden.

I
watched him behind Paige’s back all night. Though he rarely left Cadence’s
side, I never saw him touch her. No intimate moments, no secret, desire-laced
glances; nothing shared between them like the moment we’re sharing right now.
What drove him away from me in the garden? If not some attachment to Cadence,
what kept his lips from mine? “Goodnight.”

Alex
shoulders his way inside and lets the door click shut behind him.

I
place a steadying hand against the wall and allow my fingertips to trail along
the textured paint until I reach my own room. My sore feet are unable to bear
my weight a minute longer. I sink to the floor as soon as I cross the threshold.
How am I supposed to get a wink of sleep, knowing there’s two-hundred-and-twenty
pounds of Spanish man-meat forty feet from my bed?

I
carefully unbuckle the beautiful shoes and throw them mercilessly toward the trash
can. No luck. They land beneath the room’s mahogany desk. I release the tight
chignon and let the loose waves fall across my back. I run my hands through it,
massaging my tender scalp and remember Paige’s warning.
“Stay away from Alex Ramirez.” A
nd then I hear the words she didn’t
say
, “He’s taken.”

Paige
was insistent on keeping me away from Alex. But why? He’s certainly not taken
by Cadence, if his body language was any indication. Of course, I’ve never been
the best judge of body language. I used to think cousin Barry was just clumsy,
always falling into me. It wasn’t until the thong debacle of 2007 I realized he
had ass-magnets for hands.

I
heave myself off the floor and walk to the bathroom. What I need is a good long
soak in the tub. The Ritz’s bathroom is stocked with high-end toiletries, all
of which I will steal upon checkout tomorrow. I pour a miniature bottle of
lavender and lemon-scented bubbles into the running water and unzip my dress.
The stiff blue fabric falls neatly to the floor and I shove it aside with my
toe. My breasts feel unusually heavy without the support of my bra. I massage
them gently before slipping off my panties and sinking into the deliciously
scented bath. Ahhh…

As
I close my eyes and rest my head comfortably against a rolled up towel, a knock
jolts me upright. Bubbly water sloshes over the white porcelain and I grab for
the terrycloth towel behind me. Another knock, louder this time.

“Coming!”
I yell, placing a wet foot on the cold floor tile. I wrap the towel around me
and pad softly to the door. The peephole is high and I stretch to get a view.
All I see is a black head of hair bowed on the other side. “Who is it?” My
heart hammers against my chest.

“It’s
me.” The deep tenor voice rebounds against the heavy wood as he raises his
head. Dark eyes peer at me from the peephole. I lay my hand flush against my
heart.

What’s
he doing here? Did he sneak into the hallway to see which room was mine?

Shocked
by his sudden appearance, I forget my state of undress and pull the door open.
Alex cups a small, empty dish in his hands. His suit jacket is gone, his shirt
collar is unbuttoned another notch. But the relaxed smile slides off his face
as he takes me in.

I
secure the towel around me, watching as his eyes travel over the soft material.
His Adam’s apple bobs and his chest broadens as his body flexes, expands. It
sends a chill across my damp collarbone. My vagina jumps, intent on ignoring my
sister’s warning.

“What’re
you doing here?” I’m breathless.

He
steps toward me and the little bowl falls from his grasp. His hands land low
and heavy against my hips. “I came to borrow some sugar.” He pushes me back and
the door clicks shut behind us.