The Carrero Effect Trilogy

Chapter 25A

After lunch, Jake takes Leila and me ashore on the speedboat, which is moored to the back of the yacht.

He doesn't say anything again about my hair, whether I should cut it or not, and I don't bring it up. He has a car and driver waiting on land to take us anywhere we desire and leaves us with a goodbye at the dock with orders to call him when we return.

He hands me a credit card, which I try to push back at him but meet his death glare. I know better than to argue with that look. I slide it into my bag, remembering he made it clear before we came that this trip was all on him, and if I even mentioned paying for a single thing, he would tie me up and dump me in the ocean. Jake's funny about very few things, but women paying when they're with him is a strong dislike. He likes to be the traditional, courteous gentleman. Some may think it's chauvinist, and maybe it is, but it's a Jake characteristic. Brought up in an old-fashioned Italian family, paying for everything when a girl is with him is natural to him. There's no arguing with it.

I'm excited and apprehensive about the shopping spree and spending time alone with this girl I just met. I don't hang out with women apart from Sarah, and even then, it's been so long since we did. I don't do social outings and girly shopping days. I never did. Sarah was always more of a tomboy type, going to movies and baseball games.

Leila soon puts me at ease with her never-ending chatter. She captures my heart with talk of Sophie almost immediately, even though she only met her briefly, but I can tell that Leila will be a good, protective older sister.

Her mother sounds fantastic: a woman who has adopted five children from varying backgrounds, who loves and raises them all like her own, and who is the most maternal woman you will ever meet, according to Leila. It is obvious she adores her.

She drags me into several boutiques, swanning over rails of high-priced dresses. I don't need any more clothes; Donna has ensured that, and I already know most of the items she bought me are more expensive than anything here. Jake is rather indulgent on that front.

I wonder what he'd be like as a husband, should he ever be inclined to marry. I can see him spoiling his wife, money, no object, and the inability to say 'no' to whatever she wants. I'm not too fond of the idea of Jake marrying some woman and doting on her with gifts and clothes. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Here we are," Leila announces proudly as we stand in front of a classy-looking building with tinted windows and potted bushes at either side of the door. It's a bit Mediterranean-cutesy yet somehow chic.

"Where?" I ask, confused, looking around.

"Best salon in the Caribbean! Come and meet Andre." She beams a charming smile with a huge, bright flash of white, neat teeth and drags me inside the cool, air-conditioned building.

Our sandals echo on the tiled floor, and there's a strong chemical smell in the air. We're greeted by a round man in a Hawaiian shirt and a bald, shaved head as he waves his arms around energetically at the sight of her before they embrace excitedly amid air kisses. It's obvious they have met before. Many times. The following cooing and crooning make it abundantly clear that Andre is very gay, and his personality is infectious.

***

An hour or so later, I'm staring at my reflection in the mirror, unsure how to feel, as Leila and Andre gush over my new hair. It's cut to shoulder length, but the natural wave of my hair has pulled it up a couple of inches, the weight which had kept it straighter now gone. It's lying in wild beachy waves framing my face, and Andre has lightened my tawny color with some sheer highlights. I am transformed, younger, softer, blonder.

I shake my head and enjoy the feeling of my hair moving around my face freely. It's different, so un-me. This is a huge step, cutting away my security, my hair hanging loose at all times, too short to tie up the way I always did. I wonder how often I'll have Jake pulling my hands out of my hair when I fidget.

This was such a dumb idea.

Now, I am all big eyes and pouty lips, looking more like a vulnerable child.

"I love it! You look super sexy, yet adorable still!" Leila grins at me via my reflection, and Andre nods in agreement. Inwardly I grimace but show nothing on my face. Instead, I plaster on a bright, fake smile as though I agree while my stomach churns with uncertainty.

"I guess I'll get used to it." I try for a bright tone with a smile. Completely torn about what I really think, I stare back at the stranger in the mirror. She's pretty.

"Jake will go pie-eyed for it, trust me. You look so hot!" Leila giggles, her glance connecting with my eyes in the mirror, catching my blush as I try to push it away.

"Yesss, beautiful girl now has beautiful hair. You look so sassy," Andre cuts in with his two cents worth and overly-dramatic handwaving as he returns to fluffing my layers.

"Sassy and sexy!" Leila giggles.

"Seductive, sassy, and sexy!" Andre quips in, not to be outdone.

"Okay, we should go," I interrupt, breaking up the little 'S' word competition they've started, and slide out of the chair. I stand and let him remove the cape, now seeing my new hair with my floaty beach dress and tanned skin; it doesn't look so bad. I can see why Leila thinks it's cute and sassy. I guess it is a little bit. A lot more than my long locks were, anyway.

I can see why they would say it's sassy, as whenever I move my head, it sways around in a very slinky way. It certainly suits my face. I'm just unsure; I've not cut my hair in over ten years, letting it grow out so I could always tie it up. This feels terrifying and new. The girl staring back at me is nothing like the manicured PA that graces Carrero Tower. With short, wild hair and a floaty dress, this girl looks romantic, soft, and flirty. She looks like the girl I've never dared to let anyone see. I don't know if I like it, and my stomach is in knots imagining what Jake will say. My nerves are peaking.

As we walk out into the sunshine, Leila fusses with my hair, fluffing it with her fingers as I pull my head away.

"I really do love it; your hair is so nice. I love your natural curl; it's to die for," she gushes with a grin.

"I just feel weird," I utter tensely and look away stupidly; I feel like a child admitting it.

"Why?" she laughs. Leila is so easy to be around; she's like Jake in that she can make me lower my defenses and relax. Maybe it's not her; perhaps this is his effect on me carrying through, even when he's not around.

"I've worn it tied up for years to keep it neat and feel more professional. I look more relaxed and less precise with this," I laugh nervously.

Yes, it sounds dumb verbalizing it.

"And that's bad because…?" she giggles at me.

"I'm not used to being so casual and laid back," I shrug, my cheeks warming with mild embarrassment.

"Jake kinda has that effect on everyone," she winks with genuine affection in her eyes, and it makes me smile, then frown as I wonder what she really thinks of him. "He's the master of making people lower their guard," she continues.

I appraise the look in her eyes, searching for any hidden meaning, a moment of uncertainty fleeting through me as the little green-eyed monster pokes out again.

"You?" I ask cautiously, with an inner pang of worry that maybe she and Jake dated in the past. I really hope not.

"I didn't have a good start; I was adopted when I was seven. My mother was a drunk and didn't look after me too well," Leila says bluntly. I see no shame or embarrassment in her eye, and it surprises me. She's completely open about her past. You would never know she had a bad start in life from how she is now.

"You were guarded?" I laugh, unable to believe it.

"Jake's a really good friend; he's like a big brother in many ways. He's known me since I was an angry, troubled little girl, and he made me laugh, pulled me out of myself." She links her arm through mine casually, her eyes wide and bright. I get the distinct impression Jake has never been romantic with her. I don't know how I know, but it's evident on some level. I exhale softly with relief.

"So, you two … you never …?" I stumble over my words. I need to be sure, but I make myself cringe at the same time.

"Eww, hell no. That's gross. Jake is like a brother to me; there's nothing there at all. No spark; there never was. I mean, I appreciate that he's good to look at, but I don't get any butterflies from him. He's just Jake, and he knows how to annoy me on so many levels, just like my brothers." She squeezes my arm as though trying to reassure me, and there's only honesty in that sweet face. "You've nothing to worry about from over here! I'm all like, eww, no. Jake is not someone I would ever go there with. And I'm like totally hot for Richard right now," she grins, and I bat her away playfully.

"You know that's not how it is with us. He told you that already," I say, trying to defend our relationship as the heat slowly rises, hitting my cheekbones.

"I know; so did you. Three times already. Thou doth protest too much!" She bursts into a childish but adorable giggle, and I try for a subject change instead.

"I can't imagine you being anything other than you are now," I say, trying to steer back to our pre-Jake conversation.

"Jake introduced me to all his friends; he would let me hang out with them and come away on trips. He took me under his wing. I see him doing it with you, and I guess Sophie too because my mom says she raves about both of you." Leila's smile is infectious, but this makes me stop and take note.

Is that what Jake does with me? Protects me like a little sister? No! He kissed me. He touches me in ways that would be wrong if I was his sister.

"Jake and I are just friends and co-workers; he doesn't need to take me under his wing," I respond too brightly, but she gives me a knowing look.

"Whether he does or doesn't, I know him. He's very protective of you. It's kind of sweet."

"We have a weird relationship, forced together, I guess, and it's made us close." I know I'm trying to sound nonchalant, but the truth is, I'm fluttering from her observations.

"It's more than that. You forget I've known him since I was seven. His flirty little remarks, his almost aggressive protectiveness of you, and the way he just had to butt in over your hair. Jake doesn't do stuff like that with girls he isn't invested in." Leila stops me with a hand on my arm, turning me to face her. Even though I'm small, I stand taller than her curvy petite frame.

"You're reading too much into things," I say, "I've been his PA for a year now; we are completely platonic in every way." I can't help the slow blush at the little white lie; platonic doesn't involve sleep-kissing in the slightest. "He flirts with every girl he meets; he can't help himself. It doesn't mean anything."

"No, he doesn't flirt; he doesn't have to make any verbal effort at all. Girls tend to throw themselves at him, literally. Jake is all about hot looks and quick smiles. He never has to try; it's boring to witness. He rarely breaks out the cheesy come-ons or fast lines for any girl … until you. With you, he uses so many cringe-worthy lines. He's so obvious. Emma, I think the boy has it bad. You gotta trust me on this." Leila can't stop beaming at me, but I shake my head.

"I know Jake better than you think I do; he's funny and over-sexed. The flirty lines are just his sense of humor because he seriously does not look at me that way. It's our banter, our friendly to and fro." I sound a little sterner than I intend.

Who am I trying to convince, her or myself? She needs to stop with this crazy notion already.

"When you guys finally get over this weird denial you're both going through, I want to be maid of honor," she winks at me and wraps an arm around my waist, ushering me onward again.

"Leila, it's never going to happen." Even though the words sound true, a stiff little jab in my heart betrays me to myself.

"Jake will figure it out, or you will. Then we'll see," she smirks mischievously.

My cell vibrates, and it's a welcome distraction. I don't like how this conversation is going anymore and would love an end to it. The text is from Jake informing us that they're all heading to the mainland to meet them at the restaurant for dinner. Leila knows where we're going, so we go off in pursuit of our driver and car.