Magic Hands (19 page)

“What other services does Miss Chachi provide in the salon?”

“Manicures, pedicures, fil s, ful sets. Massages.”

Her eyes focused on his. “Do you do al of these things?”

Something about the way she looked at him made his face muscles tense. “Yeah.”

She nodded, smiled. “How old are you, Cort? About seventeen?”

“Yeah. But I’l be eighteen in April.”

“I have a son your age. You a senior this year?”

He nodded, threw away the soiled cotton bal .

“Where do you go to school?” she asked, studying his work permit.

She asked too many questions and even if he wasn’t a little kid anymore, the warning he felt inside was there. “PV.”

“My son goes to AF.”

Probably al lies, he thought. Then he felt stupid. She was a lady, a harmless lady, a new client and nothing else. “What’s his name?” he asked and looked right at her.

She didn’t even blink. “I get my nails done regularly at the mal . If you’re as good as I’ve heard you are I’l come back.”

But you won’t answer my question, he thought and decided to get back to work and get this job done.

She left, and gave him a five dol ar tip. He’d had bigger, but he didn’t expect her to leave any. He couldn’t say why.

Cort tucked another long day with high-pitched gossip under his belt and took the steps up to the back door of home. Inside, the house was dark but for a distant light which meant his mother was at work in her office. He went there.

She stil hadn’t changed from her suit and he glanced at his watch. Ten-forty-five. “Mom?”

She looked up, slipped the glasses from her nose. “Come in for a second, Cort.”

Her tone warned him. He waited in front of her desk.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tel me you were working at Miss Chachi’s?”

He’d strangle Lizzie. “Liz tel you?”

“No. Back to my question, please.”

“Uh. I was embarrassed.”

His mother sat back, studied him. Lawyer-mode. “Did you know that you had to be licensed to do nails?”

Cort’s heart started to pound. “No.”

“Wel you do. Miss Chachi, how did she train you?”

“She just showed me. Why?”

“Because she’s broken the law, Cort. She’s supposed to hire licensed nail technicians that have gone to school for two years.”

“
Two years
?”

“The police shut the salon down tonight.”

“What?”

She nodded. “An undercover policewoman broke it today.

Apparently your Miss Chachi has done this in five other states, employing under-aged, under-trained people. She was running from one lawsuit in Texas, in fact. One of her employees wasn’t properly trained, damaged a woman’s nails irreparably and the woman filed a suit.”

The blood in Cort’s head rushed to his gut. “No way.”

“Those girls she had working there? She was taking some of their money off the top for herself.”

He couldn’t believe it. The woman he’d talked to today—

he’d given her a fresh coat of polish and answered al of her probing questions.

“The police wil want a statement from you. Don’t worry. Although it made me look incredibly foolish that I didn’t know you were employed by the woman, I made sure they knew you were innocent. I figured you had to be, you wouldn’t have taken a job doing ladies’ nails if you hadn’t been deceived.”

Cort slid into a chair. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can’t believe you never told me.”

He looked at her. “Sorry. I was—it was a little lame to admit I’d taken any job I could find.” He shook his head. “I should have known. It seemed too good to be true.”

“It always is. How was it, anyway?”

“Pretty cool, actual y.”

His mother’s brow lifted. “Al those females? I’l bet it was.”

“What about the girls? The other nail techs, did they know?”

“I don’t know that yet.” His mother leaned over her desk when she saw the confusion on his face. “Injustice is everywhere, Cort. You won’t see any more money from it. The lawsuit in Texas wil eat up any monies left.”

Cort slumped back. Prom. He’d have to find another job.

“City council wil have a field day with this. Whoever al owed her to set up the business wil lose their head, and rightly so.”

Cort thought about the revenue Miss Chachi’s had brought—he’d helped to bring the sleepy little downtown section of Pleasant View.

“I tried to find you tonight. You didn’t take your cel phone?”

He pul ed it out of his pocket. The battery was dead.

“Dead.”

“Where were you?” she asked. He’d be in the frying pan now that she knew he hadn’t come clean about where he worked.

“At work, I swear.”

Her right brow lifted. “Anything else I should know?”

“I’m going to prom.”

“With?”

“Rachel Baxter. She’s a cool girl.”

“On a scale from one to ten, how invested are you in Rachel?”

“Uh, about a nine point nine.”

His mother’s smile pleased him. “Very good. Wel . Maybe you can tel me how I’m going to break your sister of the delusion that she’s going to senior prom when she’s only a sophomore. Any ideas?”

“Yeah. Don’t let her.”

“That’s a given. Isn’t Hudson Blair one of your footbal friends?”

Cort nodded. “You don’t want Lizzie anywhere near him.”

“I’ve told her no but you know Lizzie. She thinks she’s Pol yanna. She’l climb down the outside wal to go.”

And get more than a broken back if she goes with Hudson, Cort thought. “She can’t go, Mom. The guy’s a wolf.”

His mother’s brow cocked. “She’s set on it.”

“I tried to get Ben to ask her but he’s taking Bree.”

“I don’t want her going, period. She’s too young and hormonal to be alone with any boys.”

“I can pick up a new door knob with a lock at the hardware store,” Cort suggested lightly. His mother tilted her head with a smirk. “Sorry,” he said.

“This is where I want to strangle your father – again,” she lamented. “Lizzie needs a man’s hand.” She shook her head, remorse coloring her eyes.

Cort felt a flash of anger at his absentee father, guilt that his mother had to carry the load alone. “What are you going to do?”

She leaned forward, rubbed her face with her fingers.

“Suggest she have a sleepover with her friends and set the alarm with a new code. I don’t know. Do you think any of her friends are going?”

He shrugged. He real y didn’t know what Lizzie and her friends did.

“Wel ,” her mother sighed. “I’l figure something out. I need to get back to these papers. Goodnight.”

Cort went right to Lizzie’s room. The light shone underneath the door and he didn’t bother knocking. She was lying on the floor on her stomach, painting her nails a bright orange shade.

“Hey! You’re not al owed,” she shot over her shoulder.

“I am when you’re being an idiot. That’s an ugly color.”

“Just because you worked, and I emphasize the past tense of the word,
worked
, at a nail salon, does not give you—”

“I could care less about your nails, Liz.” He squatted down next to her. “You can’t give Mom a hard time about prom. I won’t al ow it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And who are you? Last I checked Dad split five years ago.”

“Stop it. She’s under stress.”

“Yeah because she just found out her son was working for a fugitive.”

“Cut the drama,” he snapped, plopping next to her. “You can’t go to prom with Hudson. She’s going to let you have a sleepover with your friends and you’re going to say yes or I’m going to tel her about your little explorer channel adventure in Kissing Corner.”

Lizzie blew on her wet nails so her breath hit him in the face. “Go ahead. I don’t give a—”

Cort snagged her wrist. “I’m not kidding.”

“Neither am I now let go.” She tugged but he didn’t release her. “You’re going to wreck my nails.”

He let go, stood, and smiled. “Fine.” Then he bel owed,

“Mom!”

Lizzie scrambled to her feet. “Okay, okay. Whatever.

What? And you’ve never been a desperate teenager?”

“I’ve never been a stupid teenager just asking for it.”

“And what if I was asking on purpose?” she shot. He stared at her, his face drawing tight.

“You can ask, Lizzie, I’m not going to say that’s not normal—yes I am. You’re way too young to be thinking about—”

“Hypocrite, how old were you when you first—”

“I’m stil —I haven’t—I stil —” He couldn’t believe he was admitting his virginity to his little sister. But he had to, for her sake. “I’ve never done it.”

She stood utterly stil . He expected her to laugh, to tease—something. Her mouth opened without words and in her eyes he thought he saw admiration.

“Real y?”

He nodded.

“I would have thought you, wel , you know.”

“None of my friends have.”

“Seriously? Whoa. Even Ben?”

“Even Ben.”

She let out a little chuckle. “That’s cool, real y.” The admiration in her eyes was clear. “How come?”

“I don’t know. There’s never been anybody I’ve wanted to—sex is serious stuff, Lizzie.” And scary, even though he wouldn’t admit that. “I don’t want you getting used.”

She smiled. “It was just a date to prom, Cort.”

“Not with Hudson.”

She studied him for a moment. “You real y think?”

“Yeah.”

Lizzie sighed. “But he’s so hot.”

“He’s a creep. A loser. Lizzie, they can line the bathroom stal s with names of the girls he’s used.”

“Sick.”

He reached out and slugged her shoulder lightly. “So, sleepover?”

“I guess,” she sighed again. “Of course that wil make my friends happy. They al think you’re hot. They’l want to sneak in your room and open your drawers. Me, I’l have to be content watching Orlando Bloom movies.”

Cort’s cheeks heated. “Okay then. Don’t give Mom anymore grief.”

At the door, he turned and looked at her. He’d never felt such relief. Like his bones could rest. Above anything else, she was his little sister. He’d never see her as a girl. He knew then it would be hard to accept that someday she’d be a woman.

Al of that could wait.

“Later.”

Lizzie grunted.

A knot formed in his throat. Misu, Tiaki, Jasmine and Abby’s faces flashed in his mind. Where were they? What would they do now?

He supposed most of the city had read about the demise of the salon in the Pleasant View Review. The story made the front page for the quiet, cozy city of Pleasant View.

Cort strol ed down to Minerva’s; a lot quieter now with Miss Chachi’s closed. The bel tinkled when he opened the door.

From behind the counter, Minerva smiled at him. “Cort, how you doing?”

The rich scent of chocolate and coffee fil ed his lungs on a deep, intoxicating breath. “Smel s great in here.”

She patted the counter. “Come have something.” She turned, reached for a white mug on the shelf behind her. “To stay?”

He nodded, pul ed out a stool. “Not going anywhere, unfortunately.”

“Coffee or hot chocolate?”

“Chocolate.”

She poured thick, dark, creamy liquid into the white mug. “I was shocked when I found out what happened.” She slid the mug to him.

“Yeah.”

“Did you ever suspect anything?”

He shook his head, brought the mug to his lips. “I can’t believe it.”

“She seemed like the nicest lady.”

A tyrant, Cort thought, but a nice tyrant. He’d not had that much job experience to tel him anything more.

“So you were working and weren’t licensed.”

“Stupid, huh?”

“Not if you didn’t know any better. What’d she do, train you herself?”

He nodded, too embarrassed to look her in the eye, he stared into the mug of chocolate. “I’m usual y not that clueless.”

Dragging a white cloth over the counter, Minerva chuckled. “You’re a male, working in a female world. How could you know?”

His face and ears flashed hot. He sipped again.

“Truth is,” she scrubbed a stubborn spot, “we’re gonna miss the business your maleness brought down here. Hey, you’re not looking for another job by any chance?”

He set the mug down. “Yeah, I am.”

“How about you come to work for me? I could use an extra hand.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s some stocking, minor lifting, stuff like that. If you can learn how to do nails, you can learn how to brew coffee and make hot chocolate.” Her smile warmed him with hope.

“Sure, I can do that.”

“Super. When can you start?”

“Whenever.” He saw prom in bril iant colors again.

Cort left Minerva’s with a schedule in his hand for the rest of the month. Not as many hours as he’d had at Miss Chachi’s and there’d be smal er tips, if any, but the place was above board and had been in business for ten years.

It didn’t take long for word to spread at school about what had happened. Everybody wanted to know. The school paper interviewed him and that was cool, taking his picture in front of the now-vacant spot where Miss Chachi’s had once been. The police interview was nerve-wracking but he told them everything he knew and left the precinct with his mind completely clear and ready to move on.

Because it was a Federal investigation, the local police didn’t know where the girls ended up. That bugged Cort. In his heart, he couldn’t believe any of them had known what Miss Chachi was up to. But then he wouldn’t have believed the woman was a fugitive, either.

When prom day final y arrived, Cort was ready for the diversion. He’d saved a nice chunk from his employment at Miss Chachi’s and had a week’s pay from Minerva’s.

He chipped in with Rachel’s friends, Todd, Sam, Chris and Pete for the Hummer limousine scheduled to pick them al up at Todd’s house for the beginning of the day date.

Todd’s house sat in a neighborhood near the high school, behind a sprawl of apple orchards. The house was a one-story brick place with blue shutters and no trees or shrubs anywhere. The half-dozen cars parked out front signaled to Cort he was the last of the guys to arrive. The Hummer was parked and waiting.