“I knew we had clothes in that little alcove behind the computer. If you are going to stroll the Tower View, you have to look the part. Here’s a wrap skirt and shoes. Couldn’t find a top that would work, though.”
As soon as she heard the word “clothes,” Ophie, Queen of Fashion, pushed away the pie plate she was lining with dough. She peeled off her plastic pie-lining gloves and asked where I was going. Bridgy got no further than “fancy hotel” and Ophie whipped off her apron, revealing a teal dress cinched by a wide silver belt. The buckle had an ornate Celtic design rimmed in black.
She undid the clasp and tossed the belt to me. “The skirt and shoes will do. But that dreary white shirt you’re wearing . . . Go inside and put on the skirt and sandals.”
When I came out looking, I thought, fairly chic in white tank top, black skirt, fancy belt and snappy sandals, Ophie sighed loud enough to be heard in Brooklyn.
She circled me a time or two and then ordered me to take off my bra.
“Wait a minute.”
“No, honey chile, you wait a minute. The only reason on God’s green earth to wear a shirt that large is because you’re letting the girls run free. Take off the bra.
“Where did I put my purse? A little war paint will cover far too many hours in the sun, at least at your age.”
Bridgy fled, muttering she’d serve the remaining customers, leaving me to deal with Ophie entirely on my own.
Much against my will I reached back, unclasped my hooks, dropped the straps down my arms and pulled the whole bra through the neck of my shirt like a magician working a glamorous trick.
“That’s better. Now blouse the top at your waist and tighten the belt.”
I stopped myself from covering my chest. It didn’t feel right to go braless in the café. Ophie opened her bottomless purse that weighed a thousand pounds and pulled out every type of makeup known to womankind. With a heavy hand she applied turquoise eye shadow to my eyelids and a warm-toned pink blush to my cheeks. She leaned back and nodded in approval.
“These colors are gorgeous with your auburn hair.”
I unconsciously folded my arms across my chest.
“Stop that. Don’t wrinkle the shirt. She pulled a plastic bag out of her purse and untangled two long silver chains, the longer one thick with scattered black beads, the shorter one thin and delicate. “Here, put these around your neck. Oh Lordy, today is our lucky day.”
She pulled a long silver barrette from the bag, took a chunk of my hair and clipped it high behind my left ear.
“Now walk over there and come back to me like I’m seeing y’all for the first time.”
As I did so, Ophie smiled. “I am truly an artist.” She patted my shoulder. “Of course you gave me a lovely canvas to work on.”
Bridgy opened the kitchen door, took one look at me in my hastily fashioned outfit and went all giddy.
“Tighe Kostos won’t know what hit him.”
Chapter Thirty-one ||||||||||||||||||||
I pulled the Heap-a-Jeep into the exquisitely landscaped parking lot of the Tower View Hotel. It wasn’t until I parked that I started to wonder if I’d gone through all this for no result. There were a thousand things Kostos could be doing, business things. Why would I expect him to be sitting poolside, waiting for me?
The hotel patio surrounding the pool sits on the first floor and serves as an observation deck for the beach and the Gulf. I’d planned to hunch my shoulders to prevent my braless-ness from being obvious, but as I walked around the pool, there were so many bikini bodies, I started to feel overdressed.