“You sound like Fran. I’ve got plenty on my plate to worry about right now. I did this big—” She started to tell him about the audition but stopped. She was talking about herself too much. “Never mind. Listen, I’ve got to run.Pleasesend me a photo when she’s done?”
“You got it. I feel like such a dork but I’m psyched to see what she looks like. I feel like she’s on a makeover show.”
“Same.” Cora paused, unsure of what to say next. She didn’t want to leave.
“Hey—Rivera tomorrow night. You going?” Eli asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it. You?”
“Yup. I’ll text you a picture of Nell’s transformation.”
“Can’t wait.” Cora slung her bag over her shoulder slowly and lingered over the last few sips of coffee. She had six minutes to make it to a client who was seven minutes away, but for the first time she thought it would be fine to be a tad late. “Okay, better head out now. Bye.”
“I’ll see you on the dance floor.”
“Ha! Unlikely.” She waved awkwardly at Eli and headed out, computing exactly how late she’d be.
She peeked in the window at Eli as she passed. He was staring off into the distance, talking to himself and gesturing with one hand.Quirky,she thought.Nell found her perfect match.
THIRTY-FIVE
“Does this look okay?” Cora asked Maggie.
Maggie had finally come back to the real world, but even if she’d still been in her funk, there was no way she’d miss a party of Rivera’s caliber. Unemployed or not, she was always up for an adventure, particularly when it involved free alcohol and dancing. She looked at Cora’s jeans, silky silver racerback tank, and ballet flats with a sneer. “Absolutely not. You look like you’re getting ready to mow the lawn. Latin clubs demand sass. They will turn you away at the door if you show up in that, so go find a skirt and some heels. The tank is tit-a-licious, everything from the waist down has to go.”
Cora found a short flippy black skirt from her pre-Aaron days in a ball in the back of the closet. A wrinkled mess and it smelled musty, but it was the only remaining sass in her closet. She tried on her strappy black heels and winced at how tight they were in the toes. It was as if wearing flats every day allowed her feet to spread out and grow half a size. She threw on a pair of Bollywood-inspired dangly silver earrings, a wide black belt, and hobbled to Maggie’s room.
“Better?” she asked.
Maggie looked up from her makeup mirror. “Aiii papi!” she purred. “Your hair looks great down. But can you dance in those shoes?”
“There’s no way I’m dancing. You know it takes a crapload of alcohol to get me on the floor, and my client is going to be there tonight. I’ll watch you tear it up, but I’ll be sitting the whole night, thank you.” It was an excuse. Cora knew that Fran was probably going to be drunk, and the mood was going to be over-the-top celebratory.
“Oh come on! You can’t go to a Latin club and not dance! I think it’s illegal in some states.”
“Nope. Not happening. So this looks okay?” She twirled around.
Maggie laughed. “I can totally see your underwear when you spin—mint green with lace around the edge! But I guess since you won’t be dancing, it doesn’t matter anyway. You look great. Now go put some makeup on. Oh, and put these on, too.” She tossed her a pair of thigh-high fishnets that barely cleared the bottom of her skirt.
“Seriously? That makes the outfit sort of trampy.”
“Exactly.”
Cora finished getting ready and sat with Fritz on the couch while she waited for Maggie to complete hertoilette. Josie was with Maggie, watching the transformation. The two blondes were inseparable.
“Are you ready to see some megabonita?” Maggie called from around the corner.
“Yup, hurry, we’re late.”
Maggie spun into the room and posed like a professional ballroom dancer. She looked phenomenal, perfectly dressed for the occasion, as always. Her black V-neck dress left her back completely exposed. The top of the dress was formfitting, and the bottom flared and fluttered when she moved. Her hair was teased into a hybrid bouffant Mohawk.
“Gorgeous. But you look so dressy. Aren’t you worried about being too glammed up?”
“There is no such thing as ‘too glammed up’ at Café Fuego. Just wait till you see some of the outfits. Now, don’t forget, the rules are different in a Latin club. Not everyone who asks you to dance wants to fuck you. Sometimes they just want to dance, so don’t be afraid to say yes.”
Don’t be afraid to say yes. Seemed like good advice.
They each gave Fritz and Josie lipstick kisses on the top of their heads and dashed out the door. After walking a few blocks hoping to hail a cab, they realized the city was jumping and they had no choice but to continue on foot.
