Ripped at the Seams (14 page)

The customers didn't only ask for advice or a shoulder to cry on. They were also a pretty supportive bunch. And that came in handy the morning Sami noticed a little blurb in the Page Six column of the
New York Courier
that made her blood boil:

It was a who's who in haute couture last night at the Ted Fromme Fashions bash to celebrate the design house's new line: Young and Powerful. The fashions, designed by up-and-coming soon-to-be-superstar Bruce Jamison, are targeted for young professionals. It's pretty much a given that Young and Powerful will be the hottest line from Fromme yet!

As she read the article, Sami could feel her face turn beet red. A blue vein popped out in her neck.

“Whoa, Sami, take a chill pill,” Lola said, coming over to see what was wrong. “You'll have a stroke. What is it?”

Sami could only point to the news article.

“Son of a … ,” Lola muttered as she read it. “He's still fakin' it.”

Jenny, a quiet, mousy girl who was one of Lola's regular customers—and who surprisingly favored black leather bustiers—read the article over Lola's shoulder.

“This is the guy who used and abused our Sami,” Lola explained to Jenny.

“Those are my designs,” Sami wailed.

“Well, there's just one thing to do,” Lola said.

“Exactly,” Jenny agreed. “I'll make the voodoo doll.”

Lola rolled her eyes. “I was thinking of something a little less physically painful.”

“Oh,” Jenny replied quietly.

“We've got to get this guy where it'll really hurt him—in his big fat male ego. We've got to make sure that you become more famous and successful than he'll ever be!”

“How do we do that?” Sami asked her.

“I don't know yet,” Lola admitted. “But we'll find a way. I guarantee it, sugarplum.”

By six o'clock, Sami's anger had calmed. In its place was a feeling of utter defeat and pessimism. Bruce was a star, and she … well … the most Sami could say was that she probably created some of the most interesting bra displays in the Village. And to prove it, she placed a lavender padded B-cup on a mannequin.

“All right, that's it. Hold it right there!” a man's deep, obviously disguised voice came from behind.

Sami gasped and started to turn around.

“Don't move,” the man warned.

Sami's heart was pounding. This was a robbery—or worse. Her father had been right: New York was a horrible place to live. She was going to die, here, in an
underwear
store. Her family would never live down the shame and—

“Oh man, we got her good!”

Sami recognized
that
voice immediately. “Rain!” she exclaimed with a mix of
anger and relief. She turned around and faced Rain and Vin. It had been his voice she'd first heard.

“You should see your face!” Rain exploded into a fit of giggles that could be matched only by the hearty belly laughs coming from Vin.

“Classic,” Lola guffawed from behind the counter. “You guys should consider a career in theater!”

“That was so
not
funny!” Sami barked at the three of them. “I thought you were criminals.”

“We're here to commit a crime, all right,” Vin informed her. “It's a kidnapping.”

“What?”

“That's right,” Rain agreed. “We're kidnapping you and forcing you to go out and forget your troubles.”

“I don't feel like going out tonight—,” Sami began.

“See, I told you that's what she'd say,” Lola told Vin and Rain. “She's been in the dumps all day.”

“You know what you need?” Rain told her. “Salsa.”

“I'm not very hungry,” Sami said, and sighed.

“Not the salsa you eat,” Vin corrected her. “Salsa music. We're going dancing outside by the fountain at Lincoln Center.”

“You're gonna love it,” Rain added. “Live music, lots of people dancing. And best of all, it's free.”

“I don't—”

“Sorry,” Vin told her sternly. “You have no choice. We're the kidnappers. You have to do what we say.” He took her by the hand and pulled her toward the door.

“Lola, didn't you want me to close up tonight?” Sami pleaded.

Lola shook her head. “Go have a good time. And that's an order.”

By the time Sami, Rain, and Vin emerged from the number 1 train by Lincoln Center, the salsa band was in full swing. Men and women were dancing wildly on the platform surrounding the huge Lincoln Center fountain. They were hot and sweaty, but no one seemed to mind as they moved their bodies suggestively to the powerful Latin
rhythm of the drums. “They sure didn't do dances like this at our school prom,” Sami murmured.

“It's hot, huh?” Rain commented as she began to move to the beat.

Sami looked at her roommate with amazement. Rain had no inhibitions. Here she was, dancing, all by herself, in front of hundreds of strangers. It seemed as though everyone there noticed her—she was hard to miss, what with her wild red hair and long, lean body. But Rain didn't care if people stared. She just wanted to have a good time. Sami wished she could be more like that. But she knew that she would always be more of a behind-the-scenes type.

Sort of like Vin. Sami noticed that, like her, he was just standing there, watching. But, much to Sami's surprise, he wasn't looking at Rain. He was studying Sami's expression. She blushed slightly when she realized he'd been staring at her. “What're you smiling about?” she finally asked him.

“You,” Vin said.

“Why?”

“You're funny,” he told her. “So easy to
read. Like just then. You were wishing you could dance like Rain, but you'd never dare.”

Sami blushed harder. He
did
know her well. But she wasn't going to let him know that. Playfully, she raised an eyebrow and tucked her tongue behind her cheek. “Oh yeah, well what am I thinking now?”

Vin laughed. “You're thinking I shouldn't be so sure of myself when it comes to you.”

Sami sighed. He'd gotten her again.

“But don't worry, Sami,” Vin continued. “When it comes to you, I never take anything for granted. You keep me on my toes … speaking of which, do you want to dance?”

“I've never done any dancing like this before.”

“Well, you won't learn from me, I have two left feet,” Vin admitted. “But I'm willing to give it a try if you are. Besides, no one will notice us. They're all too busy staring at Rain.”

Sami laughed. That was true. Her roommate already had a circle of admirers. Tentatively she took Vin's hand, and
together they tried to imitate the moves of the people around them.

Having Vin's strong arm around her waist made Sami feel more secure, and less conspicuous in her ill-fated attempts at salsa dancing. She figured no one would laugh at her when he was around. He'd never let that happen. Ever since she'd met him, Sami had always felt safe with Vin. He'd never do anything to hurt her. He was the kind of guy you might meet in Elk Lake: solid, honest, caring. If it weren't for that Brooklyn accent, he'd fit right in at home. Vin was a real friend, always in her corner.

“Okay, spin!” Vin interrupted her thoughts as he lifted his arm and twirled Sami around.

She laughed as she spun, feeling relaxed and joyous for the first time all day. The Latin beat and the company of her two best New York friends had been the perfect medicine to rid her of the lousy mood she'd been in since reading that article about Bruce. There were lots of good things in her life right now, she realized. It just took a night like this for her to remember.

Sami was so grateful to Vin that she reached over and gave him a small peck on the lips. His head shot back, surprised. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he smiled, lifted his arm, and twirled her around again.

“Listen, I gotta go down and convince some lawyers they don't want me on their jury,” Lola told Sami early one morning as Sami arrived to help get Beneath the Sheets ready for customers. “You're in charge.”

Sami gulped. She'd never been left alone in the store before. It seemed as if just as many of the customers came for Lola's advice as came to buy lingerie. She was certain they would turn and walk out the door the minute they realized Lola wasn't there. “But I don't know if I can—”

“Of course you can,” Lola said, slipping her purple-and-blue poncho over her head. “And, anyway, I won't be gone long. Can
you imagine me being chosen as a member of a jury of peers? Who could possibly be my peer?”

Sami laughed. “True. No one's like you, Lola.”

“I'm definitely one of a kind,” Lola agreed. “Okay, I'm off. I'll be back around five. Have fun, kiddo. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”

“That gives me plenty of room.”

“You know it,” Lola agreed.

After Lola left the shop, Sami busied herself putting together a fall display in the middle of the store. She'd considered doing a back-to-school display, but figured something seasonal was more appropriate for the age and interests of their average customer.

As Sami hung red, brown, and yellow lace panties on a fake tree, a woman walked into the shop. Sami recognized her right away. Nico was one of Lola's newer customers, and Sami liked Nico a lot. Nico was from a small town. She'd come to New York with her fiancé, Stan, who dreamed of making it as a video producer. At the moment, he was logging calls for MTV's
Total Request Live
. Nico was doing temp
work—mostly typing and filing at big companies in Midtown.

“Hi, Nico,” Sami greeted her. “What's doing?”

Nico looked around the shop. “You on your own today?”

Sami tried not to let her face fall as she sensed Nico's disappointment that Lola wasn't there. “Lola's on jury duty,” she said. “But can I help?”

“I guess I'm looking for something really … daring.”

“You
guess
?”

Nico blushed. “To tell you the truth, none of the nighties and panties and stuff have really been working. Stan's still preoccupied with not being able to do what he really wants to with work. I can't get him to notice me.”

“That's tough.” Sami studied Nico's face for a moment. “You seem kind of uncomfortable. Lola'll be back by five if you want to talk to her.”

“No, it's not that,” Nico admitted. “It's more that, well, I kind of feel weird wearing some of this stuff. But everyone says it's what men like, so …”

Sami shook her head. “Not all men like
this kind of stuff,” she told Lola. “I don't think anyone in my hometown would go for it. They say they do, but …” Sami stopped herself as she realized that she could be killing a sale for Lola. “Anyway, you should wear what you feel comfortable in,” she finished feebly.

“But I don't know what kind of lingerie would make me comfortable anymore. What do you sleep in?”

Sami thought of the big men's shirts she favored.
Nothing interesting there,
she thought. She looked around the room for inspiration. Her eyes fell on her bag, still on the counter. Her sketch pad was sticking out. A lightbulb went off in her head. “Nico, you know I'm a … I like to design, right?” she said.

“You're a good designer. Lola told me what happened at Ted Fromme.”

Sami tried not to react as Nico opened that wound again. “Anyway, how about if I design a nightgown for you? Something that would make you happy.”

“You would do that?” Nico asked.

Sami eyed Nico's height and build. “You're a size eight, right?”

Nico nodded.

“Okay. This won't take me too long. I'll have it for you on Wednesday.”

Nico seemed a bit overwhelmed. “But what if—”

“No strings,” Sami guaranteed. “It's like anything else here: If you don't want it, you don't have to buy it. But I think you're going to love it.”

On Wednesday morning, Sami came to work with two nightgowns in hand. She was surprised to see Lola already there, shelving an order of gag boxers with lipstick kisses on them.

“Jury duty over already?” Sami asked. “I thought you'd be there for a week.”

“Two days is all, if you don't get picked for a jury. Let's just say I wasn't the prosecution's dream juror. You know how we liberals can be.”

Before Sami could answer, Nico entered the store. “So, are they ready?” she asked Sami anxiously.

“What's this about?” Lola asked as she walked over to Nico. “Don't tell me—you small-town girls are planning to take over
the government. Can I help? I haven't been part of a coup in a long time.”

Sami smiled. Lola certainly had some extreme ideas—not to mention an overactive imagination. “Nothing quite so political,” she assured Lola.

“Sami just offered to make me some lingerie,” Nico explained.

“Oh, she did?” Lola said in a tone that was only half teasing.

Sami was suddenly worried that Lola might not like her making things for the customers. “Well, Nico was telling me how she didn't feel comfortable in some of the skimpier stuff we sell, and I thought maybe her husband was picking up on her nervousness, and so he was tense, and maybe …” The words poured out of Sami's mouth.

But Lola wasn't at all upset. In fact, she was impressed. “Good thinkin',” she remarked. “He could be zeroing in on that uncomfortable vibe, and that's messin' with his personal rhythm, if you get my drift.” Lola turned to Sami. “So, don't keep us waiting. Show us the rags.”

“Yeah, the suspense is killing me,” Nico agreed.

Sami lifted the first piece of lingerie from the bag. At first glance, it looked like a man's tailored shirt—complete with a pocket and a collar. But the material was distinctly feminine: white cotton, with small pale pink and blue flowers. Two darts sewn in the chest of the shirt ensured that Nico would look sexy and not at all masculine.