Read Online Cat in a Hot Pink Pursuit by Carole Nelson Douglas - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carole Nelson Douglas
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turquoise iridescent beads.
“That is so cool, Mom," said Mariah, who was sold on the outfit. Mariah had never seen Carmen.
“ This may be a little dressy," Molina said with a frown, eyeing herself grudgingly in the mirror. Short, tiny Temple had a feel for supermodel togs.
“You'll need heels," Temple decreed.
“No. You do heels. I don't do heels.”
What, Temple had been about to say, about those vintage forties pla tf orm heels Carmen wears?
Molina could read the entire sentence as it formed in her mind and her eyes. But Carmen did not exist here, and besides she stood solo on stage and sang. She didn't have to worry about dwarfing some insecure man from the stage.
Not that she had an insecure man in mind when she re jected heels. She just had an insecure woman in mind, who had minded these things since the eighth grade.
“Shoe department:' Temple said in a threatening tone.
Actually, it had been an anticipating tone but Molina found that threatening.
There, Molina held her ground. She would not wear so much as an inch-and-a-half-high heel.
Mariah, trying on every tarty spike she could find, pled with her. It was sad to see how much a teen girl wanted a glamorous mother. Molina almost caved.
Except that Temple, of all people, gently praised and prodded Mariah into demure slides with small, low heels.
“ She's too heavy for those spikes," Temple commented as Mariah pranced before the mirrors in her petite princess shoes, feminine to the max. "Maybe later, when the baby fat goes."
“You don't want me to wear them?"
“ Carmen's vintage platform forties heels, with all those industrial-strength straps, scream sturdy as much as sexy. They're fine on someone of your height. But these stilettos aren't. You'd wobble. And I bet you'd hate to wobble. High heels should look able to support their wearer."
“ I'm amazed. You make shoe selection sound like an art form."
“It is." Temple frowned at Molina's size nine feet. "I'd like to see a tiny heel, but since you won't have it. . . .”
She darted away like a dragonfly with no credit card limit.
Moments later she returned with an utterly flat shoe, a thong sandal with a beaded triangle over the instep that perfectly matched the shawl.
Like a dragonfly, the improbable sandal reflected the light.
“Oh, Mom, that's perfect," Mariah pleaded.
Mariah wanted her to sparkle because then that meant she could too. Like mother, like daughter.
Molina bought the dragonfly sandals, not sure whom they would remind her of more—Mariah the would-be Cinderella, or TempleBarr, the reluctant fairy godmother.
Later, she and her daughter celebrated their first mutual girly occasion (for Molina, it was her very first girly occasion): they whisked out their purchases in the living room, while Caterina and Tabitha gamboled on fallen pieces of colorful tissue.
“ This is so cool, Mom. Thank you! I know I can win.”
“ It doesn't matter if you win. It matters if you have fun, keep your head, and . . . stay safe."
“Temple is so cool." Mariah, head bent, held up some ridiculous glitzy top to her underdeveloped breasts. "She hardly acts like an old person at all."
“I really hope so, honey.”
Mariah looked up, catching her change in tone. "Because we three have a secret, and it'll be up to you to help carry it off.”
And then she told Mariah that Temple was working undercover to trap a potential perp, and Mariah would have to help her carry off the masquerade.
Mariah the cop's kid looked even more amazed and happy than Mariah the potential 'Tween Queen.
Chapter 10
Louie Goes Ape
What has happened to my dear little roomie, Miss Temple ?
She was always a spirited, happy little human.
She always got a kick out of life and having a hu mongous high-heel collection. She was perky but not sappy. Full of mischief but not slaphappy. Upbeat but not nauseating. Cute as a ladybug but not too girly to rock and roll.
Now she has done a complete turnaround.
I
“That is so cool, Mom," said Mariah, who was sold on the outfit. Mariah had never seen Carmen.
“ This may be a little dressy," Molina said with a frown, eyeing herself grudgingly in the mirror. Short, tiny Temple had a feel for supermodel togs.
“You'll need heels," Temple decreed.
“No. You do heels. I don't do heels.”
What, Temple had been about to say, about those vintage forties pla tf orm heels Carmen wears?
Molina could read the entire sentence as it formed in her mind and her eyes. But Carmen did not exist here, and besides she stood solo on stage and sang. She didn't have to worry about dwarfing some insecure man from the stage.
Not that she had an insecure man in mind when she re jected heels. She just had an insecure woman in mind, who had minded these things since the eighth grade.
“Shoe department:' Temple said in a threatening tone.
Actually, it had been an anticipating tone but Molina found that threatening.
There, Molina held her ground. She would not wear so much as an inch-and-a-half-high heel.
Mariah, trying on every tarty spike she could find, pled with her. It was sad to see how much a teen girl wanted a glamorous mother. Molina almost caved.
Except that Temple, of all people, gently praised and prodded Mariah into demure slides with small, low heels.
“ She's too heavy for those spikes," Temple commented as Mariah pranced before the mirrors in her petite princess shoes, feminine to the max. "Maybe later, when the baby fat goes."
“You don't want me to wear them?"
“ Carmen's vintage platform forties heels, with all those industrial-strength straps, scream sturdy as much as sexy. They're fine on someone of your height. But these stilettos aren't. You'd wobble. And I bet you'd hate to wobble. High heels should look able to support their wearer."
“ I'm amazed. You make shoe selection sound like an art form."
“It is." Temple frowned at Molina's size nine feet. "I'd like to see a tiny heel, but since you won't have it. . . .”
She darted away like a dragonfly with no credit card limit.
Moments later she returned with an utterly flat shoe, a thong sandal with a beaded triangle over the instep that perfectly matched the shawl.
Like a dragonfly, the improbable sandal reflected the light.
“Oh, Mom, that's perfect," Mariah pleaded.
Mariah wanted her to sparkle because then that meant she could too. Like mother, like daughter.
Molina bought the dragonfly sandals, not sure whom they would remind her of more—Mariah the would-be Cinderella, or TempleBarr, the reluctant fairy godmother.
Later, she and her daughter celebrated their first mutual girly occasion (for Molina, it was her very first girly occasion): they whisked out their purchases in the living room, while Caterina and Tabitha gamboled on fallen pieces of colorful tissue.
“ This is so cool, Mom. Thank you! I know I can win.”
“ It doesn't matter if you win. It matters if you have fun, keep your head, and . . . stay safe."
“Temple is so cool." Mariah, head bent, held up some ridiculous glitzy top to her underdeveloped breasts. "She hardly acts like an old person at all."
“I really hope so, honey.”
Mariah looked up, catching her change in tone. "Because we three have a secret, and it'll be up to you to help carry it off.”
And then she told Mariah that Temple was working undercover to trap a potential perp, and Mariah would have to help her carry off the masquerade.
Mariah the cop's kid looked even more amazed and happy than Mariah the potential 'Tween Queen.
Chapter 10
Louie Goes Ape
What has happened to my dear little roomie, Miss Temple ?
She was always a spirited, happy little human.
She always got a kick out of life and having a hu mongous high-heel collection. She was perky but not sappy. Full of mischief but not slaphappy. Upbeat but not nauseating. Cute as a ladybug but not too girly to rock and roll.
Now she has done a complete turnaround.
I
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