Her cheeks are still slightly pink, but I’m not going to tell her. Not when I know it’ll just make her nervous. She must be suffering from some kind of anxiety disorder that makes her tense up every time she thinks she’s being bad. I’m tempted to introduce her to Yuna. If anybody can loosen Erin up, it’s a crazy, over-the-top Korean heiress.
“Nah, you’re fine. And you’ll look even better once you put on the clothes we got.”
“Oh.” She flushes. “Well… Thank you.”
“No problem. I’ll see you later, okay?”
She stops. “You will? We’re going shopping again?”
I almost laugh. This
isn’t the first time I’ve seen that shocked look from some of my…less enthusiastic clients. Or the ones dressing really well for the first time in their lives. “We might need to, depending on what other looks your boss wants you to pull off.”
She starts nibbling her lower lip. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Of course it is. Come on, nobody hates free clothes and shoes.”
She looks like she’s about to faint. I wink at her, then turn around to leave.
I probably shouldn’t tease Erin, but it’s so easy. I wonder if she’s from a small town. That might explain her unease. A previous client, Evie Parker, was like that, and she was an assistant dressing up for her boss, too. Evie got lucky and ended up marrying one of the most eligible bachelors in the country.
Maybe I should introduce Erin to Evie. That way, Erin can get some pointers. David is definitely a highly sought prize, according to the gossip sites.
I check the time. Manny’s Tacos isn’t too far. Maybe I’ll stop by and grab some enchiladas to go. Say hi to Tío Manny and Tía Bea if they’re working today.
As I walk toward the elevator to the garage, I see a blonde woman stand up from a bench. Something about her seems familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Maybe I saw her at a party…? Or an event hosted by one of my clients…
Regardless, I slow down to admire her perfect French twist and blue Ralph Lauren dress. She’s wearing diamonds and sapphire earrings and necklace, her heels high and stylish. A very elegant look. I approve. Everything she’s wearing adds to her fragile and vulnerable air. Not an easy effect to pull off.
“Jo Martinez?” she says. Her voice is soft, but strong enough for me to hear.
Jo? She must’ve met me a social function with friends, then, because my clients always call me Josephine.
“You’re Jo, right?” she asks again, coming closer.
“Yes.” An expensive floral perfume wafts over me. This close, I realize her eyes are different colors—one blue and one green. It’s like her eyes couldn’t decide on a single color, so they decided to be greedy and take both. “Can I help you?”
Surprise crosses her face but quickly vanishes, replaced by a friendly smile. “I’m Margot Blackwood.”
Margot Blackwood…? Edgar’s mom?
I blink. What is she doing here? Is she stalking me? Or—
“I know, it’s sudden. I thought I should travel here to see you, and I was told you’d be here today.”
Did she have somebody follow me around? That’s…more than a little creepy.
She continues, “Edgar’s not interested in bringing you to Tempérane, although Lane asked more than once.”
The awkward dinner, the one Lane crashed, flashes through my mind. Warning bells go off and every muscle in my body tightens.
“I’m comfortable where I am,” I say carefully.
“Of course. Los Angeles is a lovely city. And most especially if you’re from a multi-ethnic background.” Her smile grows more gracious.
Everything she’s saying clashes with my preconceived notions. Although I try not to form opinions based on tabloid articles, I thought she’d be colder…even harsh. But the woman in front of me is incredibly warm and sweet.
But why does it feel like that warmth and sweetness are like accessories she can discard any time?