Page 17 of Stuck-Up Big Shot
I tap my chin with my index finger and lift my eyebrow with an idea. “In fact, we just got in some new hoop earrings that would look fantastic with that dress.”
Rounding the corner, I spin the rotating display and find the pair of earrings I have in mind, and then hand them to her while pointing to the mirror above the display. She cocks her head in consideration for a moment before she holds them to her ear in front of the mirror to see what they look like. She smiles and nods.
“You’re so good at this. You should get a raise,” she remarks candidly, which has me chuckling as I take the earrings and ring up her purchases.
Since Lucy is across the shop, rearranging some displays, I make sure my voice is loud enough for her to hear.
“Did you hear that, Lucy? I should earn more money.”
A dainty laugh comes from the back as the customer looks at me inquisitively.
Nodding toward Lucy, who has a price gun in her hand, I say, “That’s my boss. She owns the shop.”
Lucy gives an appraising glance over the woman’s purchases and grins. “Don’t give her any more credit than what’s required. I taught her everything she knows.”
We all laugh, the way insiders laugh at a joke, and I finish ringing up the clothing, wrap the items in tissue paper, and proudly hand her the bag of purchases with a smile.
“Thank you so much for shopping with us today. I hope you’ll come back. I added a twenty percent discount coupon in the bag if you do.”
She waves and heads out the door, leaving Lucy and me alone in the store for the first time since earlier today.
Lucy gracefully meanders over next to me behind the counter and bumps me with her shoulder.
“You know how much I appreciate the work you do for the shop, right?”
I turn to the side and wrap my arms around her slender body. While she’s about fifteen years older than me and has a family of three at home, we’ve become good friends. So much so that she’s invited me to family dinners at her home regularly. And when I haven’t been able to go home for the holidays due to work or school schedules, she’s always included me in their family celebrations.
“I know you do, and I’m so grateful for you.” I pull back and shift my hip against the counter, noticing how tired she looks today. “Are you feeling okay, Lucy?”
Her form practically slumps from a straightened posture to a weary body stance, shaking her head slowly, as if the weight of it is too heavy.
“Antonio has not been well lately and isn’t sleeping through the night. He continues to complain about his tummy hurting. And has had a bad bout of diarrhea.” She waves her palm and gives me an apologetic look over the TMI. “Juan and I have an appointment with his pediatrician next Monday.”
I reach for her hand, grasping it in mine with a show of compassion. Now I’m really worried about her young son, one of her seven-year-old twin boys, Antonio and Santiago. She also has an older daughter, Maria, who is thirteen.
“Oh, Lucy. I’m so sorry to hear about Antonio. Any time you need me, I’ll be there. I’m sure it’s nothing, probably just growing pains. But it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
She nods and presses her thumbs into the bridge of her nose as if to ward off the fear and worry.
“It might not be the right time, but if you want a night out, you’re welcome to come out with Christiana and me tonight. We’re just hitting up a few bars. Nothing special or crazy.”
Lucy smiles a wistful grin and shakes her head. “Thanks for the offer, honey, but I have plans to watch the newest Disney movie and build blanket forts with the boys tonight. But I sure do envy you and your youth. I remember those nights in my early twenties, bar hopping and dancing and doing all sorts of devious things.”
Lucy shimmies her breasts and hips, lifting her eyebrows to prove her point.
I choke on my laughter. “I’m not so sure about the devious part, but I do plan on dancing.”
I demonstrate my intent by shaking my own hips and arms in a similar fashion, the samba dance move Lucy taught me.
She laughs. “Girl, you’re adorable, but you definitely don’t have the Latina hip roll. Let me help you out.”
She turns on the music of “Señorita” by Camila Cabello and Shawn Mendes on her iPad and schools me on proper dance techniques. By the time I clock out to leave and get ready for tonight, I’m swinging my hips like a pro with the perfect amount of sex appeal and booty-shaking Latin-flavor that I hope will impress my friends.
* * *
“Areyou sure I look okay in this? I feel so. . .”
“Hot,” Christiana exclaims at the same time that I say, “Conspicuous.”
