“My eyes,” Winona says, blinking dazedly into a supernova of exploding paparazzi flashbulbs. We’re standing on a temporary podium by the front entrance of Hudson’s, next to Alice and my uncle. It makes a good photo op to have the Hudson heirs up on stage, even if the feelings between us and Uncle Bill are more homicidal than huggy. There’s a five-block-long line to get into the store on the first day of the Popup Palooza – in the mid-morning August heat.
Winona’s wearing a tapestry-print poplin dress, and it’s stunning. I loop my arm around Winona’s waist. “Look away,” I advise her. “Stare up at the ceiling.”
“Are you holding me up, or are you trying to keep me from bolting?” she asks.
“Yes.” I flash her a smirk.
Today is also the first day that we’ve officially come out as a couple. I’ve been wanting to do it for the last couple of months. I mean, why not? Why shouldn’t everyone know? Because we’re definitely an item.
I still don’t get to spend as much time with her as I’d like, but I get to peel her cartoon-character pajamas off and devour her lush body most nights, and we see stars together, every time. And I get to wake up to her gorgeous grumpy morning face – before she pulls the pillows over her head, and I dash off to my four minute shower.
Winona hesitated about coming up on stage with me today. She tried to argue that it was too soon. Too soon for what? I want to spend the rest of my life being driven crazy by this beautiful, infuriating Energizer Bunny. I figure if I publicly announce that she’s my girlfriend, she’s stuck with me. I have some other plans in that direction as well. Hopefully they won’t get me murdered. The more I get to know Winona, the more I realize you don’t want to get on her bad side.
I say that with the greatest of admiration, of course.
“Look at the camera, Winona, look at the camera!” one of the photographers yells.
She smiles brightly and waves. It’s not the genuine, gorgeous Winona smile, though – the one that’s like a sunrise on a summer morning.
Then she leans in and whispers in my ear. “Told you we should have waited.”
I smirk. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”
She responds with an eye-roll. “Who wouldn’t be?”
“Brat,” I say fondly.
“Tyrant.”
“Tyrants get a bad rap. I mean, they get things done, right? Or else,” I say, just to aggravate her. It earns me a snort of contempt and an elbow to the ribs. Worth it.
“Enough with the speechifying. You’ll bore them to death,” Uncle Bill says to me in a low voice, his smile a tight, angry rictus. Things aren’t going his way. This event has been massively, hugely, successful – every one of our competitors will be scrambling to copy it – and for some reason, after a two-week vacation with his wife, Earl has suddenly started acting super friendly to me again.
I think Uncle Bill had something on Earl, probably involving infidelity, and Earl confessed to his wife and managed to fix things. So I still have the majority of the board on my side.
I’m fine with stepping out of the spotlight today, though. More than fine.
“You heard the man!” I say to Alice and Winona. “Let’s go mingle!”
Winona exhales an audible sigh of relief as we hurry off the podium.
“My friends are in the kids’ section,” Winona says. “Let’s go find them. This is a big day for them. They’ve never been here before! Thanks for giving them the VIP tickets.”
A sharp twinge tweaks my gut. I like Clarita and Nestor and Jemma and Edna and Isabella. I didn’t realize they’d never been to my store. Of course, they could come to Hudson’s any time, but I understand that our wares are not financially feasible for everybody.
“Any friend of yours is a VIP in my book. Oh, by the way, I searched Jorge and his friends and confiscated their water pistols.” I flash her a smirk of triumph.
“They did not try to– Ooh, I’m going to get those little monsters.”
“Tamara and Steve are there, I’ll come with.” Alice has to raise her voice to be heard over the crowd. I keep a tight hold on Winona’s hand as we make our way through the crowd.
We squeeze our way through the crowds, heading towards the children’s area, but we’re cut off by Sloane, who’s clutching the hand of a very smug-looking Akiri. They sidle in front of us, blocking our path. Sloane’s wearing one of Akiri’s creations, a fish-tail gown with a train that drags on the floor and a neckline that has a collar on one side only. Time has given me some perspective, and I’m actually glad that he chose not to participate in our event. Yes, he’s still selling like crazy, but I don’t care how popular his stuff is with the ironic avant-garde crowd. I wouldn’t dress my worst enemy’s dead grandmother in that crap.
“Hello, Blake. Good to see you again.” Akiri’s lip curls up. “Nice of you to make it on time to your own event.”
“Good one!” I say cheerfully, just to see the look of annoyance wrinkling his forehead.
He regroups quickly. “I believe you know Sloane Vanderling.” He gestures at her with a triumphant flourish. “I’ve been getting to know her too. Very intimately.”
The gloating tone in his voice tells me that Sloane’s version of our breakup might have been a little on the creative side. It probably involved a lot of me groveling and pleading and promising the world if only she’d return.
“Wow,” I say, with what I hope sounds like genuine regret. “Well, the better man won.”
“Akiri just took me on the most wonderful Mediterranean vacation on his daddy’s yacht,” Sloane gushes. She smirks at Winona. “How many cruises has Blake taken you on?”
“I’m so sad to say, not a one.” Winona opens her eyes so wide she looks like a Kewpie doll, and purses her mouth in a sad little pucker that quivers with the effort of hiding her laughter. “Well, now I’m tore up like a soup sandwich. I wish I had a man who cared enough to take me on a boat ride.” Actually she’s told me she gets violently seasick.
“He sounds like a keeper.” I smile at Sloane with genuine enthusiasm. Any guy who distracts Sloane from her career as a Blake-stalker is all right by me. “When’s the wedding?”
“Oh, no sooner than next June,” she says, at the same time Akiri squawks, “What? Wedding?”
Her smile turns angry, and he lets out a sudden yelp of pain and tries to disentangle his hand from hers. I glance down at their entwined hands; she’s clenching with a death grip.
“Careful,” I advise her. “That’s his racquetball hand.”
She ignores me. “I was thinking your daddy’s estate on Lake Kawaguchi. What do you think?” she says brightly to him. “Your father said that’s his preference.”
“My father– You talked to him about– Wedding?” Akiri gurgles, his complexion turning the faint green of a man who’s eaten bad shellfish.
Sloane’s bright eyes flash with a murderous intensity. “Well of course, silly, it’s never too soon to start planning! When I told him what our plans are, he said it was about time you settled down before he had to take some serious measures, and I promised him– Hey!” Akiri manages to rip his hand from hers. She immediately throws her arm around his waist. He tries to take a step back; she moves with him.