Switched: Brides of the Kindred 17 (4 page)

“
Oh, no—it wasn’t a date.” Frankie brushed off the idea,
though she could feel her cheeks heating at the idea.

“
Of
course
it’s a
date,” her best friend said, grinning. “I mean, he asked to come to
your house
and
he told
you he’s getting a divorce. That means he’s definitely
interested.”

“
He’s only interested in having me TA for him,” Frankie
insisted. “Which is a good thing—it would finally get me out of
Victoria’s Suck-ret.” She took a sip of her matcha green tea slush.
“Although I
would
miss
our girl time.”

“
I’ll take an extra yoga class a week so we can be
together—any one you teach, I’ll take,” Lacy vowed recklessly.
“Even if it’s super hard-core with a ton of handstands and
headstands and inversions.” Of course, since she was tall and thin,
and “extra-bendy” as she put it, Lacy would probably be able to
manage that kind of class—not that Frankie ever planned on teaching
one.

“
I’m only going to be teaching the beginner classes to start
with—and that’s
if
I pass
Sheila’s final exam.” Frankie made a face. “You’d think getting my
two hundred hour certificate from the Yoga Alliance would be enough
but no—not if I want to teach at the Lotus Pond.”

“
But look how far you’ve come,” Lacy pointed out. “You know,
it seems like just yesterday we were taking our first class.
Remember? You wanted to take kick-boxing and I wanted yoga. We
flipped a coin and yoga won—aren’t you glad it did?”

“
That was back when I was still with Carlos,” Frankie said. “I
remember telling you I was going to scream if I couldn’t let off
some tension and that was when you said we needed to take an
exercise class together.”

“
Your ex is the one who
really
ought to be glad that coin toss led us to yoga,” Lacy said,
taking another sip of her juice. “If you were about to become a
kick-boxing master like you’re going to be a yoga master, you would
have kicked his ass six ways to Sunday by now.”

“
Don’t tempt me.” Frankie sighed and swirled her straw through
the green matcha slush in her glass. “You know my mom has been
inviting him to family dinners lately? She and my
abuela
are just sure if I see
him often enough I’ll magically want to go back to him.”

“
Ugh!” Lacy made a face. “That’s awful, Frankie—you should
stop going.”

“
Like hell I will.” Frankie frowned. “I’m not going to let
that
hijo de
puta
keep me away
from my own family—even if half of them think I’m crazy and the
other half aren’t speaking to me.”

“
Is it really that bad?” Lacy squeezed her arm
sympathetically. “I’ll come with you to the next one if you
want—for moral support. Only you’ll have to translate for me—you
know how bad my Spanish is.”

Frankie laughed. “As
if I could forget! Do you think we would ever have gotten to be
such good friends if Mr. Gonzalez hadn’t paired us up in tenth
grade Spanish Class?”

“
I
like to think so,” Lacy said comfortably, taking another sip of
latte—none of which would settle on her slender figure or perfect
little butt, Frankie was sure. “We’re kindred spirits, after
all.”

Frankie shivered.
“Hey, don’t say the K word, all right? You know that since my
divorce from Carlos is final I have to go register for the
draft.”

“
I’m surprised they reinstated it after all the trouble we had
with them a while back,” Lacy remarked. “But I’m registered too and
I’m not worried about it. Take it easy, Frankie—you know the
chances of getting called as a Kindred bride are super
slim.”

“
They’d better be,” said Frankie darkly. “My
abuela
would have another
fainting spell if she knew I was having dinner with Professor
Ramlow and he’s just white and Protestant. If I ended up with one
of those freaking huge alien Kindred who aren’t even human, she’d
probably have a
heart attack.”

“
All the more reason to keep it from her. And speaking of the
sexy professor,
you
are going
to go down to that new salon, Wax Me Beautiful, we were talking
about, and get yourself looking all smooth and gorgeous in case the
night gets amorous.”

“
I
can’t afford that,” Frankie protested. “And even if I could,
nothing
is going to happen. Just
because I had the nerve to get a divorce doesn’t mean I can shake a
lifetime of being a good Catholic girl all at once.”

“
Yes, you can,” Lacy protested. “You haven’t gone on a single
good date since you got away from that jerk, Carlos. You may be
divorced from him but you’re acting like you’re still married and
keeping your wedding vows. It’s high time you got some good
nookie.”

“
I’m not going to—” Frankie began.

“
Well, just go get waxed anyway, in case you change your
mind.” Lacy finished her latte and pointed her dripping straw at
Frankie. “Do it, Frankie—you’ll feel like a whole new woman, I
promise. And you can take my appointment—it’s already paid for and
you can just pretend to be me.”

“
I
can’t do that,” Frankie protested. “I can’t let you buy me such an
expensive gift.”

Lacy waved her
protests away. “Oh please, I got it on Groupon so it was way
cheaper than it would normally be. Besides, I was just getting it
done because I was hoping Doctor Sloan would ask me out.” She
sighed. “He didn’t though and the weekend is officially upon us. So
you might as well take the appointment—you’ll get more use out of
it than I would.”

“
He’ll ask you out
next
weekend,” Frankie said, squeezing her friend’s arm soothingly.
“And if he doesn’t, he’s just an idiot who can’t see how gorgeous
you are.” She finished her own drink. “And now I need to get going.
I’ve only got one more hour left on my shift and then I’m out of
here.

“
Good for you—some of us are working a double” Lacy sighed.
“Maybe I should go back with you to VS and see if I can find some
sexy underwear to cheer myself up before my dinner break is
over.
You
should get some too, you
know. To go with your new wax job.”

“
I’m not getting waxed down
there,”
Frankie protested. “That would hurt too much! I’d rather
shave.”

“
Shaving doesn’t get you nearly as smooth,” Lacy informed her.
“And the waxing might hurt but it only takes a second. You have no
idea how sexy you can feel until you have a fresh Brazilian and a
new pair of naughty panties to go with it.”

“
I’ll consider it,” Frankie promised, sliding off her stool
and pitching her plastic cup in the trash. “But for now, I really
do have to get back. I just hope Mrs. Hofstadter isn’t going to
show up at the end of my shift and want to talk my ear
off.”

“
Is that the one who’s into all the super kinky BDSM?” Lacy
asked with interest.

Frankie nodded and
shivered.

“
Which wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t seventy-five. I swear
the things she tells me she and her hubby get up
to—yuck!”

Lacy smothered a
smile. “Hey, give her a break! Personally, I’m inspired by her. I
think it’s amazing that a woman in her seventies is still getting
busy.”

“
I
have no problem with her getting busy,” Frankie said. “I just don’t
want to have to hear all the dirty—and I
do
mean dirty—details. And I don’t care that she’s
seventy-five—I wouldn’t want to hear them if she was
twenty
-five. It’s just too much
information.”

“
Well just think, you’ll be out of there soon. TA-ing for the
sexy professor and teaching yoga like nobody’s business. You’re
going to be amazing.”

“
What I’m going to be is
tired.”
Frankie yawned. It had been a long day and she would be glad
to get home and take a hot bubble bath before crawling into
bed.

Lacy yawned too. “Me
too. You know, I think I’ll just head back to UCH, hon. I need to
conserve my strength if I’m going to get through the second half of
this double.”

“
Okay—talk soon,” Frankie said, giving her a hug.

“
All right and I’ll text you the details for that waxing
appointment.” Lacy hugged her back. “And you
better
go. Believe me, you’ll be thanking me later when
you want to get busy with the sexy professor.”

Frankie laughed and
shook her head. “All right, all right. I’ll tell you all about the
date tomorrow night after he goes.”

“
Unless he stays the night.” Lacy waggled her perfectly shaped
eyebrows expressively, making Frankie laugh again.

“
Yeah, right—whatever. Never gonna happen. I’m not letting any
man stay the night at my place.”

“
You might be surprised,” Lacy said mysteriously as she
left.

Frankie waved her friend’s words away and went back to her
job. Luckily Mrs. Hofstadter didn’t make her usual appearance and
so Frankie was able to get through the store closing routine fairly
quickly. At the end of the night, before the registers closed, she
even picked out a nice bra and panty set—a black lace one that
minimized her butt—well, as much as it
could
be minimized—and a sexy bra to match. Lacy was
right—who knew what might happen? She might end up with a man
staying the night at her place after all…

The ride home wasn’t
too long and Frankie was able to get her bubble bath and climb into
bed in fairly short order. Which was perfect—she needed a good
night’s sleep because she had a very busy weekend planned. Between
the waxing appointment, her yoga final exam, her “date” with
Professor Ramlow, and the weekly family dinner where Carlos was
sure to put in an appearance, she was going to be running from
sunup ‘til sundown all day Saturday and Sunday.

That’s all right though,
she told herself comfortingly as she snuggled down
into her worn but clean cotton sheets.
I can handle this. I’m ready for
anything…

Or so she thought.
But then she started to dream…

Chapter Two

It
was such a vivid dream Frankie almost thought it must be real. But
how could it be? She was in a subway station—at least, it
looked
kind of like a subway
station. There was a vast underground space hollowed out with
people rushing back and forth, all of them obviously in a hurry to
get where they were going. And she was walking along with them,
using a swift, purposeful stride as her boot heels clicked on the
hard, shiny black surface of the floor.

Wait—her
boot
heels?
Frankie
looked down at her feet, frowning. She didn’t own boots—there was
no point, living in Tampa where you could live in flip-flops almost
all year round. But sure enough, she had on black, shiny boots that
came up to her knees. They were kind of nice, actually—if a little
too masculine for Frankie’s taste. Only…why did her feet look so
big? And what else was she wearing?

Black trousers with
a red stripe up the side and a red uniform type shirt were what met
her eyes when she looked down. That was weird—Frankie didn’t
remember owning any outfits that looked like this! As she looked
around, she noticed that everyone else in the crowded subway was
wearing strange clothing too—all of them were in one kind of
uniform or another.

Here a group of blonde women in dull blue jumpsuits with red
sashes wrapped around their waists rushed to catch a train. And
passing on her right were a bunch of tall men wearing olive green
trousers and matching green uniform shirts. Like the women, they
had narrow shoulders and white-blond hair. Each had a large black
badge pinned to his right shoulder and was wearing broad, black
belt. Everywhere she looked it was the same—people wearing clothing
like she’d never seen before. And most of them seemed to have
white-blonde hair. Where
was
she anyway, Sweden?

And what was the
deal with this subway station? Instead of plain or tiled concrete
walls, it appeared to be lined with large, flat TV screens. Every
spare inch of wall space, and some of the ceiling space too, was
filled with a never ending stream of images and information.
Between the screens, the echoing sound of many feet, and the rush
and hiss of the trains which must be running somewhere in the
distance, Frankie could barely hear herself think. And yet, as she
looked around, she noticed that no one seemed to be talking. They
all had serious, intent looks on their faces as if they were in a
hurry to go do something very important.

Apparently she was
in a hurry too. Her brisk strides carried her along through the
crowds until she came to a long row of turnstiles. They were
floor-to ceiling affairs with metal bars separating the crowded
underground tunnel into two parts. The more she looked at them, the
more Frankie thought they looked like jail cells rather than
turnstiles. The fact that tall men in black uniforms were
patrolling back and forth on both sides of them only enforced the
image.