Kickin' It (Red Card) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,35

no reason to keep staring like an idiot.

“Mr. Kingston,” our driver said politely.

“Thank you.” I nodded as he hurried out of the car and opened Parker’s door and then ran around and opened mine. I hated waiting, but it was part of his job, and I knew it was insulting not to. “We won’t be long.”

“Take your time, Mr. Kingston.” He tipped his hat, revealing round spectacles and an easy yet aged smile and tanned face. “I brought my Kindle.”

“Good man.” I chuckled and then put my hand on Parker’s back as we walked into the department store. I could tell she was trying to hide her shock because she had her unimpressed face glued on, but I could sense her excitement over the chic décor and expensive clothes. Hell, I could almost feel her body buzzing with it when we walked by all the salon shoes.

“This way.” We went up three levels until we came to the personal shopper area. A woman in her midtwenties approached, wearing head-to-toe black with heels my sister would commit murder for. She had auburn hair and bright-blue eyes. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No.” I smiled. “But I’ll make it worth your while to fit us in. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

Her eyes narrowed in on me. “Do I know you?”

“I doubt it, just one of those faces.”

Next to me, Parker rolled her eyes. I pinched her side, reminding her to behave. Money didn’t get you everywhere, but it got you most places, and attitude was everything.

“Right.” The woman rubbed her hands together. “I’m LaLa.”

Parker pressed her lips together. Shit, she better not laugh.

LaLa eyed Parker up and down then shot me a confused look. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“A dress,” I said simply. “White, something professional yet still sexy, alluring but not too much, and show off her curves. If you don’t have white, stick with a solid color, no nylons. She’ll need an open-toe boot that she can walk in.”

“Done.”

“Done?” Parker squealed. “What do you mean done?”

“I mean I have the perfect dress for your occasion. It’s Versace, has capped sleeves, which should complement your muscle tone well. It’s off-white, has crystals, and has been on preorder, but we just got our first shipment in this morning. If you’re willing to pay the price.”

“Sounds perfect,” I said. “May we see it?”

Less than three minutes later, I was in the dressing room with a shaking Parker. The sales lady had made the mistake of letting her see the price tag, and since the dress was over four grand, she was having a moment. I should have had Willow do this, not that we’d had time between practices.

“Look.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “You won’t break it. The dress is beautiful, but you wear the dress, not the other way around.”

Parker made a face in the mirror.

“I sound like a jackass, got it. I’ll just be waiting out here.”

“Wait!” Parker moved from one Converse to the other. “I know this is highly inappropriate, but I’m petrified I’m going to rip something and that haughty woman with the obviously fake name is going to say something like ‘Told you so,’ so could you just . . . help me, you know, with your eyes closed?”

I laughed. “You’re better off on your own, you know that, right?”

“Please?”

It was the please that did me in, followed by the bottom-lip bite, and the innocent flick of her eyes as she waited for my answer.

I sighed, scratching the back of my head, blowing out a frustrated breath, and doing a semicircle like a trapped animal. “Fine, just not a word to anyone. Seriously . . . anyone.” I pointed at her like she was a child.

Which got me an equally childish response: a Parker eye roll.

“Take your pants off, smart-ass,” I grumbled, causing her to falter a bit as she kicked off her shoes and pulled off her joggers.

I didn’t expect her to be wearing white, lacy boy shorts, but there they were, like a giant sign saying open, open, open.

I cleared my throat and unzipped the dress while she rustled with her shirt next to me. We somehow managed to turn at the same time.

I opened my mouth, closed it. “Not a word, Parker.” It came out as a rasp, like I didn’t mean it, quiet like I didn’t want her to hear.

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded like she was ashamed I had to even say it, like I’d said the wrong