“Ah, seems it sneaks back when I flirt with a gorgeous woman,” I say, putting that out there.
Yup, I am flirting with a jilted bride, and judging from the happiness in her eyes, it seems like exactly what she needs.
Maybe it’s what I need too.
But tonight isn’t about me.
It’s about her.
“So, you are flirting with me?” she asks, like she needs and wants the confirmation.
I smile. “Seems I am.”
She takes a beat, eying me up and down. “Good. Keep it up.”
5
Harlan
“So, you swear this is the place to go?” Katie asks.
“Don’t just take it from me. Take it from Best of San Francisco Blog. They rate it as the top costume shop in the entire city. Let’s get you a costume,” I say, as we turn into Daisy’s Duds.
Judy Garland’s “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” plays softly on the sound system. A statuesque Black drag queen, decked out in a tight, purple-sequin dress with an emerald-green feather boa tossed around her neck, waves to us from behind the counter. “Welcome to Daisy’s Duds. I’m Daisy. Let me know what I can help you with in my palace of costumes,” she says, sweeping out a muscled arm to indicate the plethora of options.
My eyes scan the colorful arrays of finery—glitter and boas, faux fur and leather, spangles and pasties, as well as all sorts of uniforms for cops, doctors, nurses, firemen, and soldiers.
“Daisy, my lovely lady friend here has a hankering for an Indiana Jones hat and a whip. Any chance you can deliver?”
Daisy cracks up, rolling her big brown eyes. “You say that as if I couldn’t. Of course I have every Harrison Ford costume under the sun. I just love that man something fierce.” She sashays through the store, taking us to a rack next to a mirror with dressing room lights flickering over it. Her hand glides over a Princess Leia bikini from her Jabba the Hut days, then a Ron Burgundy maroon suit.
“You really do have everything,” Katie says, wide-eyed as she fingers a Charlie’s Angels get-up.
Daisy clucks her tongue. “What did you take me for? A costumer you can stump? Darling, my job and my pleasure is to have everything your heart desires.”
Katie laughs, and I am so damn glad she’s smiling again and having a good time. “I like your style, Daisy,” she says.
“And I like your dress. Let’s get you a hat to go with that fabulous A-line on your gorgeous body.”
Katie juts out a hip. “Why, thank you very much.”
The drag queen doesn’t question why Katie’s wearing a wedding dress, and I have a hunch the not-a-bride appreciates that.
The owner roams her hand along a shelf, snags a hat, then grabs a whip. “It’s a Saturday night. Who doesn’t need some light bondage?” she says, with a wink then a snap of her wrist. “Giddy-up.”
“Ooh, would we call that light?” Katie asks.
Daisy tuts. “Darling, we’ll discuss heavy bondage another time. This whip is definitely light.” She hands her the coiled leather just as the door slings open, and Daisy excuses herself to help the new customer.
Katie takes the whip, sets the hat on her head, and tosses me a saucy smirk. “How do I look? Like an adventurer escaping from doom in the nick of time?”
More like Indiana Jones’s very naughty sister. “It looks like maybe you’re a little bit kinky,” I say, my voice dropping to a rumble. I’m not a kinky fucker, but I am a game-for-anything guy, so if kink is Katie’s thing, I’m up for it.
Katie gives a light snap of the whip, her eyes twinkling with possibilities. “Maybe I am.”
Her coy tone lights up my skin.
I just wish we didn’t seem to have the worst timing in the world. Reconnecting with her on her foiled wedding night seems like Fate’s way of saying we’re all wrong for each other.
And yet, I’m not going to end this night any sooner than I have to. She’s still the best company I’ve ever had, even when she’s suffered the worst day ever.
Daisy finishes with her customer and returns to us, parking her hands on her hips and staring at me. “And what about you, handsome? You’re not going to let Ms. Indiana Jones in a white dress be the only one looking fabulous, are you?”
Katie shoots me a challenging stare. “Yeah. C’mon, Taylor. What are you going to wear? How about a letterman jacket? You could be a football star.”
She sounds so happy again, so sassy. It’s a great sound, and I feel like a million bucks for restoring her faith in, well, in fun for a night.
I shake my head. “That’s a bit on the nose, don’t you think?”
“Maybe I think you’d look cute in it,” she says.
Is she putting me on? “Cute?” I echo with a raised brow. “I’d look cute?”
Daisy sets a hand on my shoulder. “Take the compliment and tuck it away. Enjoy it.”
“Fine. I’ll be cute,” I say, faking indignation.
Katie gives me a so there look. “Yes. You’re cute. But . . .” She studies me seriously, tapping her chin. “I’m thinking you could be a fireman.”
Interesting choice. “Does someone have a thing for firemen?”
“Who doesn’t?” Katie asks.
Daisy points two thumbs at her ample bosom. “I’d love a man to rescue me.” She spins on her silver shoes, and props to her for pulling off those heels at work. “And, handsome, now you have no choice but to be a fireman. I hope you have a good hose.”
Katie’s lips part into an O as she catches my gaze. “I hope you do too.”
I crack up, loving that she’s ventured so far into the flirty zone. My good-time superhero would do this for a damsel in distress—make her laugh. Help her flirt.
“I’ll take a fireman helmet,” I tell the shop owner.
“And what about turnouts and suspenders? I hope you’re going to take that polo off and run around shirtless for the rest of the night,” Daisy suggests.
Mischief sparks in Katie’s eyes. “You have to do what Daisy says.”
Five minutes later, my jeans and shirt are tucked in a plastic bag, and I’m decked out like a fireman about to do a striptease. I emerge from the dressing room, shirtless, as if I’m ready to work the pole, and I don’t mean the kind you’d find in a firehouse.
I spin in a circle for Katie, and she wolf whistles. “You look fabulous, Harlan. This is celebrating being left at the altar in style.”
Daisy’s eyes widen, and she sets a hand on Katie’s arm. “You were, sweetheart?”
“I was,” Katie says, even and cool, then points to me, nibbling on the corner of her lips. “But he found me at the bowling alley bar. And now here I am, playing dress-up.”
Daisy smiles, shaking her head, then beckons for Katie to come closer. “Girl, you know the best way to get over a man?” the drag queen asks.
“Tell me,” Katie says, her tone dripping with interest.
Daisy points at me, circles her finger in my direction. “Get under another one. Like this handsome piece over here.”