She's Got Game Page 2

  AT THE POOL, Binky turned and shot them all what they were quickly learning was her trademark megawatt smile. “I’m so happy you all decided to come and spend the day with me. We don’t get nearly enough visitors at Isla de la Luz.”

  “Isla de la Luz?” Carmen asked. “Why do you call it that?”

  “My father named it after my mother, Luz Yadira Camila Sanchez de la Vega,” Binky said. “She was from Venezuela and was the most beautiful woman in Miami. She died when I was just a baby. Breast cancer. Which just sucks. Orange is my favorite color, but I always wear something pink to honor her.”

  “So, you’re half Latina?” Alicia asked, looking over at Jamie and raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, isn’t that cool?” Binky said. “My father’s family sailed over on the Mayflower. My mother’s family is still in Venezuela. Dash, my brother, and I go to visit them every summer. But he was older when my mother passed. She only spoke Spanish to him, so his accent is really, really good. My accent, not so much.”

  “I’m mixed, too,” Carmen said. “My mother is from Mexico and my father is Jewish and Argentinean.”

  “Oh, my gosh! We’re like sisters!” Binky cried, giving Carmen another big hug.

  “What’s with all the hugging?” Jamie whispered to Alicia. “It makes me want to…”—she leaned over and mimed throwing up near a bush of brightly colored plumeria. Alicia shot her a look. It was too late. Binky had clearly seen, and the sadness flashed across her face. Quickly, though, she was back to her cheerful self. “As I was saying, I’m really glad to have you guys here,” she went on. “My brother’s away a lot at golf tournaments, and my father’s always at work. If it weren’t for Estrella, our housekeeper, I’d be stranded on this island with just my stepmother all the time.”

  “I take it that means the evil stepmother thing has some truth to it?” Alicia asked.

  Binky shrugged. “I don’t know if evil is the word. It’s more like she’s very, very…cold. For example, she told my father she would prefer it if I didn’t hug her except on holidays and special occasions.”

  The girls traded looks of disbelief.

  “That’s nuts. It can’t be true,” Carmen said.

  Binky looked as if she’d revealed too much and changed the subject. “Do you guys want to have our big planning meeting in the Jacuzzi?”

  “We didn’t bring our suits,” Jamie pointed out.

  “No problema, amigas,” Binky said, in what was possibly the worst Spanish accent the friends had ever heard. “There are tons of suits in the changing rooms.” She pointed across the pool. At every corner there was a blue-and-white-striped cabana, like a small circus tent.

  “I’m down,” Alicia said, taking off for a changing room. “I love a Jacuzzi.”

  “Me, too,” said Carmen. “I’ll come with you.”

  Jamie looked at her friends, who were smiling just a little wickedly at her obvious misery. This simply solidified in her mind why they shouldn’t have been there.

  “Fine,” Jamie groaned. “Fine.”

  “Great,” Binky said. “Meet you back here in ten!”

  The tres amigas piled into a cabana together. As each of them looked around, it was hard not to be impressed. This was no simple changing room. It had a full-length mirror in an elaborate gold frame, a rack of bathing suits for men and women, a chaise longue covered in the same striped fabric as had been used on the cabana, and a small refrigerator with sodas and minibottles of champagne.

  “Since when do we do business meetings in a Jacuzzi?” Jamie asked, grumpily. “It’s totally unprofessional.”

  “Maybe,” Alicia said. “But I have a feeling that this isn’t going to be our run-of-the-mill quinceañera.”

  “You can say that again. Nothing about Binky Mortimer is run-of-the-mill,” Carmen agreed. “Hey, check this out. All of the suits are brand-new. They still have their tags on them.”

  “Oooh, I like this one!” Alicia exclaimed, grabbing a white suit with side cutouts.

  “So, Binky’s mom is Latina,” Carmen said, stepping behind a curtain and pulling on a simple two-piece. “Who knew she was a secret Latina at large?”

  “It takes more than having a Latin mom to be a true Latina,” Jamie said, grabbing the nearest swimsuit and pulling it on in a huff.

  “Really? What does it take?” Carmen asked, needling her friend.

  “It takes flava,” Jamie said defiantly.

  Alicia and Carmen guffawed.

  “You mean those dollar-ninety-nine packets of flava?” Alicia asked.

  “I mean the born-in-the-barrio, money-can’t-buy-it flava,” Jamie tossed over her shoulder as she made her way back out into the sunshine.

  As they walked to the Jacuzzi, Carmen asked Alicia, “Were you born in the barrio?”

  “Nope,” Alicia answered, smiling.

  “Me, neither,” Carmen said. “So, where’d we get our flava?”

  “I think Queen Jamie anointed us with it,” Alicia whispered.

  “That must be it. I hereby pronounce you Lady Alicia of the Barrio, numero uno Cubana Americana business mogul of the kingdom,” Carmen declared, pantomiming tapping Alicia on the shoulder with a scepter.

  “And I hereby pronounce you Dame Carmen, cultural beacon of Latina fashion and design,” Alicia replied. Carmen bowed slightly.

  Jamie, who had been pretending to ignore them, laughed in spite of herself. “You know I can hear you, right?” she said.

  “We were just making a point. Be nice to our new friend,” Alicia said. “She seems like a sweet girl.”

  “New client, not new friend,” Jamie said. “Big difference. And sweet? Well, so is a piece of sour candy—until you bite into it.”

  WHILE THEY’D been changing, Estrella, the Mortimer’s maid, had brought out a pitcher of iced hibiscus tea, accompanied by a monogrammed silver platter holding a collection of little sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Although the amigas had enjoyed a collective eye roll when Binky exclaimed, “Watercress and cucumber, my favorite!” they had to admit that the sandwiches were pretty delicious. They nibbled on a few before heading into the Jacuzzi.

  “So, I guess the first question is, when’s your birthday?” Carmen asked when they were in the water.

  “December first,” Binky replied. “So I’m hoping to have my quince the Saturday after Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s just over four weeks away!” Jamie cried. “And it’s totally not quince season. It will end up blending into the holidays. Maybe you should wait until the spring?”

  “No way,” Binky said, shaking her head. “I really want to have my quince next month, near my actual birthday.”

  “Well we’ve got a Thanksgiving break in there,” Alicia said, her mind racing. “That’ll give us a little more time toward the end of planning. But we would still need to start right away.”

  Carmen nodded. “We should probably contact a church for the ceremony. Are you a member anywhere?” she asked.

  “Our Lady of Big Bucks,” Jamie whispered to Alicia, who quickly shushed her.

  “Our family has been going to the Cathedral of San Miguel since I was a little baby,” Binky said. “My brother likes to go to the Spanish services to keep up his vocabulary.”

  “Well, we have to contact the priest right away to make sure they don’t have another quinceañera booked,” Alicia said. “This wouldn’t be the first time that we had to change churches because another quince got there first. Miami is crazy like that.”

  As they talked, the girls had gotten out of the Jacuzzi to avoid getting pruney. Now, Binky was lying on a chaise longue, eating from a bowl of frozen grapes. “Change churches? Are you kidding me? My father is friends with the Pope. My quince will be at the cathedral, and if someone else is there, they will find another alternative.”

  Alicia and Carmen exchanged glances, thinking the same thing. How could Binky be so sweet one moment and so diva the next?

  “O-kay, then. Well, that still leaves your
theme,” Alicia said, moving on.

  This seemed to worry Binky. “Can I think it over and get back to you with some thoughts? I’ve just got so much going on in my life right now, I really need to chew on that one for a while,” she said.

  “I guess it’s okay if you aren’t set on your theme yet. But we need to know sooner rather than later. It’s going to impact your outfit choices. I’m going to need at least two weeks to make your dress,” Carmen replied.

  “And teach your damas and chambelanes the dances,” Jamie added.

  “Da-what and chambe-who?” Binky asked.

  Jamie tried hard not to groan, roll her eyes, or hit her forehead. “Damas and chambelanes,” she repeated. “It means ‘ladies and gentlemen.’ You have to have seven girls and seven guys. They make up your court. Along with you, it makes fifteen. Get it? Have you even been to a quinceañera before?”

  “A few,” said Binky, clueless as to the extent of Jamie’s scorn. “But that’s why I’m hiring you guys. I want you to teach me everything there is to know about being a Latina.”

  “Can’t your Latina maid help?” Jamie asked in a sarcastic tone.

  “Actually, it was Estrella’s idea that I have a quinceañera,” Binky said, once again not picking up on Jamie’s tone. “She said my mother would have loved it. Estrella used to work for my mom, and she always says that the last thing my mother told her before she died was, ‘Take care of my little girl.’”

  At the mention of Binky’s mother, Jamie softened. “How old were you when she passed away?”

  “Eighteen months,” Binky said.

  “So, you don’t remember anything about her?” Jamie asked.

  “Not a thing,” Binky said. “But I always tell people, don’t be fooled by the blond hair and blue eyes; I’m proud of my Latina heritage.”

  Jamie took a deep breath. It was obvious that she wasn’t sure what to make of Binky. She was about to ask how Binky could be proud of her Hispanic heritage when she didn’t know anything about it when two guys—two oddly familiar guys—approached.

  “Hey, I recognize you,” the blond one said. “The lovely ladies from the Santa Maria.”

  “Knock it off, Troy,” Binky warned, laughing. She stood up and pointed to the quiet one with the dark hair and impossibly long eyelashes. “Chicas, this is my brother, Dash Mortimer. And this piece of country-club vermin is his best friend, Troy Haviland.”

  Binky punched Troy in the arm. From the way she teased him about his upper-crust status, it seemed suddenly clear that she didn’t take the whole richer-than-God thing that seriously—at least all the time.

  “Enchanted,” Troy said, kissing the hand of each of the girls.

  “Encantado,” Dash said, bowing.

  “Oh, yes, the Spanish-speaking member of the Mortimer family,” Jamie said, with a faint tinge of sass in her voice, although both Alicia and Carmen could also hear a quaver. They exchanged glances. Jamie never quavered around guys.

  “Sí ¿y usted? ¿Hablas español?” Dash asked, sitting next to Jamie. He looked deep into her eyes, as if she and he were the only two people in the entire world.

  Jamie, whose Spanish-language skills were limited, felt herself flush and scooted her towel away from him. It was unnerving to have someone look so closely at one, as though they could read one’s soul. “It doesn’t matter if I speak it or not,” she said, answering him in English. “I’m one hundred percent Latina.”

  “What you are,” Dash said flirtatiously, “is one hundred percent beautiful.”

  Jamie flushed deeper and looked away.

  “So, you girls are helping my sister with her quinceañera, right?” Dash asked, taking his eyes off Jamie for just a moment. He quickly turned back. “Do you need a chambelán to escort you to Binky’s quince?”

  Jamie shook her head, trying to slow her suddenly racing heart. “Only the girls in the court need a chambelán.”

  Dash winked. “Oh, I don’t know about that. A girl as beautiful as you should always have a chambelán to do your bidding.”

  “You want to do my bidding?” Jamie asked. She was about to say something flirty, funny, maybe a little saucy, because for a moment she really had forgotten that they were surrounded by other people. Until—

  “What he wants to do is ask you out, but he’s too corny to say so right out,” Troy interjected.

  Jamie’s face turned red, and she tried to get back on course. She made a halfhearted attempt to turn toward Alicia and engage in conversation with her. But Dash was having none of that.

  He pulled Jamie up from her seat and away from the other loungers. “Sorry to take you away,” he whispered, “but Troy is right. I would like to ask you out. So, um, would it be cool if maybe I—um—called you sometime?” His eyes were hopeful and, Jamie couldn’t help noticing, adorable.

  “You could,” she said, “but you can’t if I don’t give you my number.” She didn’t understand where this new flirtatiousness was coming from, but she didn’t really care. She hadn’t felt this way in ages, and she had to admit she didn’t want the feeling to go away.

  “Well, could I have your number?” Dash asked.

  “No,” Jamie said, shaking her head. “Not yet.”

  “Discúlpame, no entiendo inglés,” Dash said, smiling and pretending not to understand English. He was good-looking and clearly romantic, but more than that, he had a kind of easy confidence. His friend Troy seemed like a junior varsity Romeo by comparison.

  Binky suddenly stood up and came over to them. “I hate to break up your tête-à-tête, but this meeting is actually about me and my quinceañera.”

  Dash turned away from Jamie and gave Binky a hug. “You’re right, sis. Mom would be so proud of you right now. Besides, I should get to golf practice. You coming, Troy?”

  “Yeah, reluctantly.” Troy stood up and blew kisses at Alicia and Carmen. “One of you girls is going to be the future Mrs. Troy Haviland.”

  Carmen and Alicia guffawed at his audacity.

  “Oh, yeah? Which one?” Alicia asked.

  “Doesn’t matter which one,” Troy said. “You’re both gorgeous.”

  “I feel so special right now—not,” Carmen said, shaking her head.

  “Nice meeting you, Alicia and Carmen,” Dash said with sincerity. Then he turned to Jamie. “You’ll find that I don’t scare easily.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you got mad game,” Jamie said, waving him away. But the smile on her face suggested she wanted anything but for him to go away.

  She watched him leave with a mixture of interest and frustration. He was cute, but so what? Clearly, he knew it, which made him automatically less cute. But then again, he also seemed smart, which was totally cute. She was in such a daze that she didn’t hear Alicia calling her.

  “Jamie? Hello, Jamie?” Alicia said. “Time to go. We’re going to brainstorm some more about themes for Binky.” Turning, she said to their new client, “And you’ll meet us tomorrow afternoon at my house to give us your ideas and hammer out a plan. Sound good?”

  Binky nodded.

  “Works for me,” Jamie said absently.

  Binky then walked the girls down to the dock and gave them each a bear hug. “This is the most fun I’ve had in, like, forever,” she said. “I can’t wait until tomorrow! How do you say good-bye in Latina?”

  “Umm, we usually just say adios,” Alicia said.

  “I was just kidding!” Binky laughed. “I’m blond, but not a dumb blond. Adios! Adios! Adios!”

  She gave them all gigantic hugs once again and ran back up the dock, disappearing from view.

  “SO, WHAT DO you think?” Carmen asked on the ride back to reality.

  “She’s friendlier than I would’ve thought,” Alicia said.

  “She’s not friendly, she’s fake,” Jamie countered. The fresh air and salt water had cleared her mind of Dash—mostly—and she was back on her anti-Binky bent. “And she’s used to buying her friends.”

  “I dunno,” Carmen said.
“I get the feeling that Binky’s the sort of girl who knows a lot of people, but doesn’t necessarily have a ton of close friends.”

  “Me, too,” Alicia concurred.

  “Well, asking people, ‘How do you say good-bye in Latina?’ is not the way to make friends,” Jamie said, clearly bothered. “It’s, like, hello, Einstein, ‘Latina’ isn’t a language.”

  “She was just joking,” Carmen said.

  “Are you so sure of that?” Jamie asked.

  There was a moment of silence as all three girls stared into the distance. The sun was setting, and the Mortimer island receded into the distance like a picture on a postcard or in a travel magazine. The air was sultry—the classic Miami mix of hot and humid—and the waters of Biscayne Bay glistened, emerald and aquamarine.

  “I feel like I’m in a movie,” Alicia and Carmen said at the same time.

  They both began giggling. “Jinx!” Alicia said.

  “You owe me a Coke,” Carmen said.

  Five seconds later, as if by magic, the waiter appeared with his silver tray. “Excuse me, ladies, did somebody ask for a Coke?”

  They burst out laughing, happily accepting the cold drinks.

  “Okay,” Alicia said. “Change of topic: how much was Binky’s brother crushing on you, Jamie?”

  Jamie tried to deny it. “It’s not even like that.…” she began. But her face was getting hot, because she knew that the flirting had gone more than one way. In spite of herself, she found she liked him. Or at least, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he’d walked away. But she’d gone down that route before—falling for a spoiled rich boy in New York—and it hadn’t ended well.

  Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, she thought now.

  It was best she played it cool.

  “He was totally and completely into you; it was, like, love at first sight,” Carmen said.

  “There’s no such thing as love at first sight,” Jamie said, determined to sound as uninterested and cynical as possible. She knew her friends wouldn’t let up if they knew she had even a particle of interest. And until she figured out how much interest there was on Dash’s end, she wanted to avoid scrutiny.