Switched: Brides of the Kindred 17 (25 page)

Frankie made a
mental sound of disbelief at his compliment.

“
Yeah, right, I’m so sure. Look, you don’t have to say that—I
know I’m not your type.”

“
What does that mean?” Kerov demanded.

“
I
mean, I’m not like Xirnah—in fact, I’m the complete opposite of
her.”

“
Well, I suppose that’s true.” He looked in the mirror again
at her long dark hair and her curves, all but hidden by the pink
and purple puffy dress. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. In
fact—” But just then a knock sounded at the door.

“
Oh my God—is that Professor Ramlow?”
Frankie fluttered excitedly in his
head.
“Is it
him?”

Kerov frowned. “I
suppose it must be.”

“
Oh no—and you dressed me like
this?”

Kerov thought she
must be referring to the pink and purple dress with its wide white
underskirt and matching shoes.

“
Yes, I did,” he said. “Lacy said I should wear a “sexy
dress.” I looked in your closet and this seemed to qualify. Is it
not a dress?”

“
Yes, but not a sexy one! I bought it for my cousin’s
wedding—Esperanza always did have
awful
taste.”

“
A
wedding?” Kerov searched her mind. “You mean a joining
ceremony?”

“
Yes, whatever you want to call it. The bride gets to pick the
colors
and her
attendants or bridesmaids have to wear them. So I had no choice—I
had to wear this ugly thing in Esperanza’s wedding. But after that
I put it up and swore to never put it on again.”
She sighed.
“Why couldn’t you have
put me in my little black dress? That one’s great for hiding my
ass!”

“
Hiding it? Why would you want to hide it?” Kerov turned to
the side, wishing he could see her luscious curves beneath the
puffy dress. Her behind was so different from Xirnah’s…so lush and
full, especially in the tight fitting yoga pants…

The knock at the
door sounded again.

“
Oh no—he’s out there but I can’t let him see me like this! I
look like a clown with this make-up and the crazy
dress!”

“
Do you want me to change?”

“
No time now—quick, go get the door and let him in,”
Frankie directed.
“Then you can make an
excuse to go in the bathroom and change there. And do
not
mess this up for me. I really like
this guy.”

Kerov didn’t like
this—not one little bit. Somehow the idea of Frankie with some
strange male didn’t sit right with him at all. In fact, he felt he
hated this professor person even though he had never met him. But
he had already screwed up Frankie’s life enough—he owed it to her
to do the best job he could of her “date” tonight.

“
All right, all right,” he muttered, wobbling towards the door
on the ridiculously tall, high heeled shoes. “I’ll let him in and
be gracious to him. But that’s all I can promise.”

“
Why are you walking like that?”
Frankie demanded.
“What’s wrong with my feet?”

“
They are strapped into this ridiculous footwear that matches
the dress,” Kerov told her. “They are also very painful. How do you
manage to walk in these things?”

“
Well, they hurt like Hell but they make your legs look
great,”
Frankie
told him.
“Look,
just don’t let him see me like this for long. Let him in, make an
excuse, and run for the bathroom.”

“
I
will do the best I can,” Kerov said again. The knock sounded a
third time but just then, he got to her domicile’s front door and
was able to pull it open. Outside was a male of medium height with
light brown hair and blandly handsome features. He had several
things in his hands—a brown paper sack that gave off a savory
aroma, a green bottle filled with liquid and a bunch of red flowers
wrapped in green paper.

“
Ah, Francesca,” he said smoothly, stepping up with a charming
smile. “Don’t you just look…” Then he took in the dress and make-up
and for a moment his smile faltered. “Don’t you just look, ah,
lovely,” he said at last, haltingly.

“
Dios, no! He thinks I look crazy!”
Frankie’s mental voice sounded
agonized.
“Quick—make some kind of excuse! Don’t let him think I go
around looking like this all the time!”

“
I
must apologize for my appearance,” Kerov said stiffly, standing
aside so that the other male could enter the domicile. “I wore this
dress for a joining ceremony—I mean, a wedding. And especially
because you were coming over.”

The blandly handsome
features paled a little.

“
Uh, a
wedding,
you
say?” Was it his imagination or did Ramlow’s voice go a bit high on
the words? “Why would me coming to your place make you think about
a, uh, a wedding?”

“
Oh no—quick! He thinks I think we’re going to get married!
That I’m some crazy girl who demands commitment on the first date.
Say something else—let him know it’s not true!”
Frankie shouted in his
head.

Kerov winced—her mental voice got
loud
when she was upset.

“
Excuse me if I gave you the wrong impression,” he said to
Ramlow. “I didn’t mean I wore this garment with the intension of
joining myself to you in a lifelong commitment.”

The other male’s
face got even paler.

“
A
lifelong
commitment?”
he
echoed.

Kerov plowed ahead.
“Indeed. I know this is the beginning of our relationship and I
would never think that you were ready for that—at least not now.
Though if you wish it in the future, I could…” He cleared his
throat, trying to ease the way for Frankie’s possible union with
this male, although he didn’t like it one bit. “I could certainly
be open to that.”

“
You would?” Strangely, his words of comfort didn’t appear to
have made Ramlow feel any better. In fact, he was still staring at
Kerov in a way that suggested he thought there might be some mental
imbalance at work.

“
Dios, no! You’re making it worse!”
Frankie sounded really upset now.
“Quick, make an excuse
and run for the bathroom! Now—
now!”

“
I
mean…” Kerov tried again. “I only wore this dress because I thought
you would find it sexually appealing. But now I see this isn’t so.
I must excuse myself to the fresher—the bathroom I mean—to change
into something more to your liking.”

Then he turned
awkwardly on the high, spindly heels and ran as fast as he could,
wobbling in the strange footwear, towards the bathroom.

“
What are you doing? What are you
doing?”
Frankie shouted in his head.
“Madre de Dios—why are you running away
from him?”

“
Because you
told
me to,”
Kerov muttered, under his breath as he finally reached the fresher.
“You said to run as fast as I could and so I
did
, although I was considerably hampered by your
ridiculous shoes.”

“
It’s an expression! I didn’t mean you should literally run
away from him like that. Now he’s going to think I’m crazy—meeting
him at the door dressed like this, talking about marriage and then
running away like my hair was on fire and my ass was
catching!”
Frankie
made a sound of desperation.
“I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t just go right out the
door this minute and never speak to me again!”

“
If he is a male of worth he will give you another chance.”
Kerov sighed and ran one hand through her thick, curly black hair.
His fingers got caught on a tangle.

“
Ow!” he and Frankie said together as they both experienced
the pain.

“
Look,” Kerov told her. “Let me put on the dress you say you
want to wear and go back out to him. I swear I can salvage this
situation.” Although he didn’t know exactly how.

“
All right.”
Frankie sighed.
“Do it but please, be more careful this time! I really
like
this guy, Kerov!”

Kerov already hated
Ramlow but he refrained from saying as much. The least he could do
was to try his best for Frankie, just as she had tried for him.

“
All right,” he said. “Let’s get changed. Now which dress did
you say was the sexually appealing one again?”

Sometime later, he
walked back out into the living area of Frankie’s domicile wearing
a sleek black dress, black shoes with no heels which matched it,
and almost no make-up.

Frankie had had him
scrub off what he had applied before she turned up and then tried
to instruct him on how to do it properly. But Kerov was hopeless.
He put on the blush much too heavily and as for the liquid
eyeliner, Frankie said he made her look like Cleopatra, whoever
that was. In the end, she had decided that he should go barefaced
except for a small touch of shiny lip gloss which she had him apply
with the lightest hand possible.

The whole business
seemed ridiculous to Kerov. To him, Frankie’s finely molded
features and big, almond shaped brown eyes were already lovely—why
should she need anything to enhance them? But when he tried to tell
her so, she seemed to think he was joking. And since he had no time
to convince her otherwise, Kerov had applied the lip gloss as
directed and then finally went back to meet her “date” again.

Ramlow was sitting
on the small couch in the living area looking uncertainly at the
door. He had placed the paper sack, the bottle, and the bunch of
flowers on a small table nearby. He looked up with trepidation when
Kerov came in view.

“
Hello again, Francesca,” he said, rising.

Kerov noticed that
without the impossibly high heels strapped to Frankie’s feet, the
other male was actually taller than him now—a fact he disliked very
much.

“
Hello,” he said, shortly. He had decided it would be better
to say as little as possible. Whenever he became verbose, he seemed
to make things worse. In lieu of more words, he stepped forward
when Ramlow rose and offered to clasp arms in a gesture of
greeting.

“
What are you doing? Why are you grabbing his arm?”
Frankie demanded inside
his head.
“We
shake hands here, not arms.”

Quickly, Kerov
adjusted his grip to take the other male’s hand. He couldn’t help
noticing how soft it was and how weak Ramlow’s grip was. He might
just be adjusting his hold because he didn’t want to hurt Frankie
but somehow Kerov didn’t think so. Ramlow was no warrior—he could
tell. This hand had never held a sword or shield or blaster. This
hand—this male—was weak. And, as he had suspected, not worthy of
Frankie.

Still, Ramlow was
her choice and so he had to go along with this farce, even if it
irritated him to no end.

“
Won’t you come into the food prep area—I mean the kitchen?”
he asked, trying to smile at the other male. “We can dine on the
delicious comestibles I see you have brought.”

“
Delicious comestibles? Dios—I don’t talk like
that!”
Frankie protested. But
Kerov’s words seemed to have done the trick. After another
uncertain look, Ramlow picked up his things from the small table
and followed him into the kitchen.

“
Fine,” Kerov muttered under his breath, trying to be sure
Ramlow didn’t hear him. “I’ll do my best to talk more like
you—satisfied?”

“
I
suppose.”
Frankie
still didn’t sound happy.
“Look, just loosen up—don’t be so stiff. And flirt a
little, maybe.”

“
Flirt?” he muttered, keeping his back to Ramlow. To cover his
conversation with Frankie, he searched in the wooden shelves she
had hung on her walls for drinking and eating utensils.

“
Sure, you know…laugh at his jokes, touch his arm…that kind of
thing. And smile. Really smile!”

All of these things
were completely foreign to Kerov’s nature but he was resolved to do
the best he could for her.

“
All right,” he muttered. “I
said
I’ll try.”

“
I
hope you like Pino Gris,” Ramlow said from behind him. “I really
wanted a nice Riesling to go with the Thai food but the store I
stopped at was all out.”

“
I’m sure that will be fine,” Kerov said, having no idea what
the other male was talking about. He finally located some plates as
well as some elegant looking, long-stemmed glasses which he pulled
from the wooden shelves and set on the counter.

“
Well, shall I dish it out? Don’t worry about utensils,”
Ramlow said, seeming more at ease. “I brought chopsticks for both
of us.”

Without waiting for
a reply, he opened the brown paper sack and began dishing out the
contents of several white paper containers onto Frankie’s
plates.

Kerov watched in
silence for a moment but then he couldn’t contain himself anymore.
If he was actively going to facilitate a romantic relationship
between Frankie and this male, he had to know more about him. He
knew it was ridiculous but he felt protective of her—he didn’t want
her to come to harm.