Magic Hands Read online

  “What, Rache?”

  Rachel stopped and glared at Todd. “Are you my big brother now or something? My personal life is private.” She saw Ticia approaching and started toward her.

  “Okay, okay,” Todd snapped. “Sorry I asked.”

  “Don’t ask again.” Rachel turned to Ticia. “Where do you want to go?”

  Sensing the air was thick with something, Ticia looked from face to face. The guy’s heads lowered.

  “Maybe we should go to lunch by ourselves.” Rachel shot Todd a look.

  The guys mumbled in protest and Todd shook his head.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine,” Rachel said, and led Ticia from the crowded hal .

  Rachel stripped off her pink hoodie as she stormed through the parking lot. Ticia tried to keep up with her. The spring sun pulsed through thin wispy clouds, lighting the blue sky to near white. Al around them students made a break for their cars.

  “What was that al about?” Ticia waited for Rachel to pop the locks on the car doors.

  “That was Todd getting in my face for the last time.”

  Rachel got in, started the engine.

  “What? He stil getting over the dance thing?”

  “He’s stil getting over his ego thing.” Rachel revved the engine before pul ing out. “He thinks he owns me—seriously.

  Al the guys do.”

  “They’re just protecting you.”

  “From what? That’s just plain stupid.”

  “They’re jealous.”

  “But we’re al friends.”

  “I know. But you know Todd’s had it for you for a while.”

  “He knows I don’t feel the same. Do I have to come right out and say it?”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  She’d hate to have to do that. Rachel’s cel phone vibrated and she stuck it to her ear. “Hey, Jenn….When I didn’t see your car, I figured you weren’t coming. Cal me later. Okay.

  See ya.” Rachel dropped the phone on the seat.

  “Let me guess, Jenn’s going to lunch with John.”

  Rachel shot her a smile. “Of course.”

  “Oh, look.” Ticia pointed to Kippers Fish and Chowder House where Cort was just hopping out of his white truck, fol owed by Ben and Chad.

  “Carmel and Brownie are looking fine today,” Ticia said.

  “Should we?”

  The girls exchanged playful grins. Rachel pul ed her car next to Cort’s white truck just as they boys entered the restaurant. “Is this too obvious?”

  Ticia had one leg out the door. “I don’t think so.”

  “Yes, it is. I just saw him five seconds ago in the hal .”

  Rachel searched the place, couldn’t see through the reflection in the glass. “It looks like I’m fol owing him.”

  “What do you care what it looks like? It’s never bothered you before. And we need to eat somewhere.”

  Rachel’s fingers tapped on her steering wheel. But timing was important. If she moved too fast, showed too much interest too soon; let him know too much about her too fast, that could kil things. She started the car.

  Ticia whined. “Carmel and Brownie are in there. You may have seen Cort, but I haven’t seen Carmel yet. Come on, for me.”

  Rachel looked at the window, wishing she knew if they’d been spotted or not. If they had, Cort might wonder why they weren’t coming in. Ticia’s light blue eyes begged.

  Reluctantly Rachel got out, her chest fil ed with wild birds. There were dozens of places kids from school ate at during lunch break; Wendy’s being the number one pick.

  Purple Turtle was another hot spot. She hoped Cort wouldn’t think this was a set up.

  They walked in and the smel of crisp, fried food scented the air. Pictures of light houses and oceans lined the wood-planked wal s. Heavy rope, wooden steering wheels and plastic seagul s in flight hung from the ceiling.

  Cort was taking his tray to the table when she caught his eye. Suddenly al of his friends looked at them. Cort waved.

  “Come sit,” he cal ed over the noise.

  It only took a heartbeat to say yes. Rachel and Ticia ordered then joined the guys at a corner table.

  “I thought you might say no,” Cort told her as he pul ed out a chair for her and she sat.

  “Why would I say no?”

  He sat next to her. “You’re the most evasive girl I’ve ever met, Rache.” Because the table was smal and crowded, their bodies sandwiched next to each other.

  “Am not.”

  “Are too.” Cort reached over her, his arm brushing her shoulder as he grabbed her drink. “Is it okay if I cal you Rache?”

  “Sure.”

  “What do you drink, anyway?” He opened the plastic lid but Rachel stopped him, laying her hand over his.

  “Try it,” she told him, lifting the straw to his lips. His mouth surrounded the tip, keeping his eyes locked with hers, he drank.

  “Something diet.” He pul ed back and made a face she thought was cute.

  “I like it.”

  “I hate diet.”

  She took the drink, shrugged. Then she picked up his plastic cup, and pressed the straw to her lips, noticing how he sat perfectly stil , watching.

  “Chocolate shake.”

  He took the shake and immediately put his lips where hers had been and took a deep sip. His voice was low, “Yup.”

  He popped a fry in his mouth. “So, you eat here a lot?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “See?” He shook his head. “See how vague you are?

  Drives me nuts.”

  “I don’t do it on purpose.”

  Commotion had them looking toward the glass doors. A smal group of elderly people shuffled in.

  “Oh my gosh,” Rachel stood. “Hey!”

  Charlie looked over. He was a nurse’s assistant at Countryside. Mannie, Lily and another woman Rachel had seen occasional y at her readings was with him. Their wrinkled faces broke into giant smiles when they saw her.

  “Your grandma?” Cort asked.

  Rachel slid out of her chair. “No. I’l be right back.”

  Quickly she made her way over and helped Charlie seat them.

  “What’s our lovey doing here?” Mannie cupped her cheeks.

  “Just eating lunch with some friends. What are you guys doing here?”

  “Why it’s Friday,” Lily piped, “Fish day.”

  “We get to have a field trip on fish day,” Mannie confided.

  Rachel laughed.

  “Thanks for helping,” Charlie told her. “Ladies, I’l be right back with your orders.”

  Rachel sat down at their table. “Where’s Martin?”

  Mannie made a face. “You know him, too prickly to leave his comfort zone. I told him he needs to get out once in a while but he says it’s too late for that.”

  “Are you here with that young man?” Lily pointed a crooked finger Cort’s direction.

  “Uh, wel , I’m here with some guys, yes.”

  “He’s mighty handsome, I must say.” Mannie looked over obviously. Cort sent them a friendly wave. “Mighty handsome.”

  Lily strained to see. “And what’s his name?”

  “His name is Cort.”

  Mannie patted her hand. “What a fine couple you’d make. Oh, look. Here he comes.”

  “Hi.” Extending his hand, Cort careful y shook each of the elderly women’s hands. “I’m Cort.”

  “We’ve heard so much about you,” Lily beamed.

  Cort shot Rachel two raised brows. “You have?”

  Mannie grabbed his hand, held it firmly. “You take care of our girl now, you hear?”

  Rachel wanted to dissolve into the floor.

  “I most definitely wil ,” Cort said.

  “You come visit us with our lovey,” Lily said. “I’m hungry, where’s Charlie?”

  “I’d better go.” Rachel stood, kissed their cheeks. “See you soon.”

  Mannie squeezed her hand before she left. “Bye
now.”

  Rachel walked back to the table with Cort without saying anything. Too bad if he was blown away by her senior friends, but if he was then that was something she had to accept. Her friends at Countryside, her time spent with them, was more important than some flying leap with a guy.

  She listened to Ticia flirting with Chad, who responded likewise. Surely Cort was man enough to handle a few old people, Rachel thought, stirring her straw in her drink. When he sat quietly for a time, she wondered if she’d final y add a strike against him.

  After lunch, the boys walked them to the car. Ticia was al smiles and giggles when Chad opened her door and leaned through the open window to talk to her.

  Rachel paused before she got in. “Guess I’l see you later.”

  She saw nothing tel ing in Cort’s eyes.

  “Yeah.” Cort held her door open and the breeze carried his scent into her car. She took in a deep breath and he shut the door.

  Ticia was euphoric on the drive back to school. “I think Carmel’s going to ask me out.”

  Absently, Rachel put her thumb nail between her teeth. Even with the hard acrylic she stil chewed. Messages, looks, secrets—why did guys have to be so confusing and frustrating? Why did they have to play this game? She wondered if Mannie and pretty Lily had played games when they were young. Maybe Martin had never found anybody because he hadn’t been wil ing to.

  When did playing end and real begin?

  EIGHT

  Miss Chachi’s was packed. Girls waited outside. Cort sweat under the pressure. There was no way he could do al of the fil s, pedicures and anything else the clients wanted by himself.

  He asked Miss Chachi to help him deflect some of the girls to Misu, Tiaki, Abby and Jasmine but she was reluctant, tel ing him he was the reason the girls had come. He needed to work faster so their clientele would grow.

  He hadn’t gotten up for any pee breaks and his back teeth were beginning to float.

  Some of the waiting girls ran out of time and had one of the other nail technicians do their jobs. Cort tried to ignore Miss Chachi’s glares of displeasure when that happened, but she paced the center aisle like a dril sergeant, watching everyone work.

  Loud laughter by the door caused Cort to look up from his current nail job. Bree flounced in, fol owed by Shaylee and Megan. They pushed their way through the crowd until they were at his table.

  “Hi, Cortie.”

  She was dressed in a white tube dress that glittered from head to toe. Her curvy body looked just the way he imagined she wanted it to look—everything shockingly outlined.

  “Hey.”

  “I broke a nail,” she whined. “Can you fix it real quick?”

  He looked around at those waiting. “Does it look like I can fix it?”

  Bree didn’t even glance. “I’m al ready and they stil have to get dressed. I should go first since I’m closer.”

  He jerked his head toward the front where the seats were al taken. “Get in line, Bree.”

  Beads of sweat sprouted at his hairline, down his spine.

  His pits were drenched.

  Bree shot a saccharine smile at the girl whose nails he was doing. “Can I just cut in for a quick sec?”

  Cort looked up, annoyed. “Bree, I’m in the middle of an appointment.”

  “I see that, but she can go to the bathroom or something.

  Who is she, anyway?”

  The girl was speechless, staring from Cort to Bree. “It’s okay,” the girl final y said and stood.

  “No.” Cort reached for her.

  “Real y, it’s okay.” She eased by Bree with the respect Bree’s popularity demanded.

  Bree sat with a satisfied smile and extended her hand.

  “See? It’s a little chip and it’l catch on my dress and, oops—

  what if it rips and my dress fal s off?”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Cort took her finger.

  Bree’s bare, glittering shoulders lifted. “Would you?”

  The idea shot heat through him, whether he wanted it or not. With a cotton bal soaked in acetone he wiped her nail clean. “I won’t be there to see it.”

  “It could happen anywhere. Even here.”

  He filed the nail and kept his mouth shut, trying not to think of Bree without a dress.

  “You know, you and I should be going to this dance together,” she chattered. “It’d be fun, don’t you think? We’re like such buds and al .”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Sometimes I like being with friends, you know? Friends that know me and that I can hang with.” She wiggled. “And then, of course, if something happens with that friend, wel , that’s cool, too.

  “I mean, you and I know each other wel enough that if something did happen, it would total y rock, you know?

  Cause, we’d be like, cool with it and al .”

  Cort only lifted his eyes to hers for a second, but in that second, female interest was alive and wel . The desperation in her eyes caused him to look away. He wasn’t interested, and even though Bree wasn’t his type, he wouldn’t hurt her feelings and say so.

  “So you never asked the mystery girl?” Bree inquired.

  “It was too late.” He buffed next. “Besides, I have to work.”

  Bree looked around. “What kind of a slave driver keeps a hot guy from going to the dance?”

  “As you can see, my services are an integral part of the girls going to the dance.”

  “Your services?” Bree teased but didn’t say more when he shot a glare at her. “Maybe the mystery girl is going with someone else.”

  “She’s not,” he said simply and began to paint the first coat.

  Bree looked at Shaylee and Megan who had kept respectful y quiet until now. “Wel , she must not be anybody because everybody who’s anybody is going. Except you, of course.”

  He blew on the wet nail, sliding her a narrowed look.

  “Time to dry.” Cort flicked on the mini fan next to her, and shoved her hand in front of it.

  “Hey,” she bit out, “careful there. You wouldn’t want to pay for this dress to be dry cleaned because you got some polish smeared on it.”

  Cort leaned back and stretched tight muscles. Surveying the room, he saw even more of the waiting girls had final y given up and were being taken care of by other nail techs.

  Then Rachel walked in. She was with Ticia and Jennifer.

  He sat forward with a jerk that caused both Bree and Shaylee to turn around and look. Bree’s eyes slit.

  “Wel , Jennifer’s got John. That Ticia chick is just too ugly. That leaves…I see.”

  Cort grabbed Bree’s hand and looked at her nails. “One more coat and you’re good to go.”

  “You know, I heard that Rachel’s a hooker.”

  His polish brush froze. “You’re wrong.”

  “No, seriously,” Bree continued with sordid delight. “She works the streets here in P.V. And she total y sleeps with those guys that hang with her.”

  The sweat covering Cort’s back heated again. Finishing the last coat, he pushed Bree’s hand in front of the fan. “Shut up.”

  “Oh, I see.” Bree grinned. “Shay, I think I know who Cort’s mystery woman is. It’s that Rachel Baxter chick.”

  Shaylee leaned close. “The one that hooks?” Bree nodded.

  “She does not hook,” Cort hissed. “And she doesn’t sleep around.” He looked at Rachel, checking in at the front desk with Miss Chachi. Doubt trickled into his mind—she had been out last night, her mother said she was working. “She’s too rich to do anything like that,” he half mumbled.

  “Those guy friends of hers keep her wal et fat.”

  “That’s crap,” Cort shot. Rachel wasn’t a hooker. She was perfect, wasn’t she?

  “I heard her mom used to, and she wouldn’t let her do anything else but hook,” Shaylee added.

  “I’m sure it’s true,” said Bree. “Just look at her. What else could she do?”

&nbsp
; They al looked over as Rachel strode down the aisle with Jennifer and Ticia by her side. “I heard her friend hooks, too,” Bree whispered, “that Ticia one. Even though I can’t see any guy hooking up with her, not for money, anyway. They probably have, like, a two for one deal.”

  Cort rol ed his eyes.

  “Hey.” Rachel only looked at Cort, and that settled his whirling insides a bit.

  Bree stood slowly, her eyes scanning Rachel from head to toe. Cort couldn’t wait until she and her tribe were gone.

  She blew on her nails then jerked her head at Shaylee, who jumped to attention, reached in Bree’s purse, brought out Bree’s wal et and handed it to her. Bree glared at her friend before plucking out five dol ar bil and dropping it on Cort’s table. “I think five is more than enough for today. Bye, Cortie. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.” She cackled out a laugh when she reached the door.

  A few hours later, most of the crowd was gone. Misu sat at the base of one of the pedicure chairs, wiping the vinyl cloth clean. At another table, Jasmine finished up a ful set, while Abby swept. Miss Chachi stood dutiful y up front, counting cash.

  Cort gestured to Rachel to sit in the chair facing him while he pul ed another chair alongside for Ticia. Miss Chachi had talked Jennifer into a complimentary foot massage, and she sat with bliss on her face, while Tiaki squished and pul ed her feet and toes.

  “You’re busy,” Ticia said, awe lining her voice.

  Cort couldn’t have made it to the dance even if he’d been set to go. He was beat. Rubbing his knuckles, Cort readied his tools for Rachel’s job and let out a sigh. “Yeah. It’s been crazy today.”

  The fatigue on his face worried Rachel. “I can come back another day.” She stood but he snapped out a hand and stopped her.

  He shook his head. “It’s okay. Sit.”

  “You look wasted.”

  He reached out for her hands and his eyes sharpened, making something inside of her heat. She set her hands in his and he began to rub his fingers over hers in a soothing, circular motion.

  “Just a fil then?,” he asked.

  She nodded. He examined her nails. “Pretty good job.”

  Then he looked up, smiled. “But mine wil be better.” He wiped away the white tips with acetone. “How come you ladies aren’t going to the dance?,”