Chapter 4 4

Carmen dialed someone while I peered at the heavily guarded streets. Armed men in black attire walked around on the empty streets. Everyone's eyes remained on us since the time we emerged outside the shop. My throat thickened at their intense gaze searing through my skin.

"They are for our security," Carmen whispered. "Most of them are Law Enforcement agents. We pay them for the service."

"Why am I not surprised!" I said, before realizing I broke character. Dammit.

Carmen smiled, patting the side of my face and walking us towards the man who stood outside the car that had arrived. Somehow, my little worldly rebellion impressed her.

"Meet your new head, Marco." She extended my hand towards the hunk of a man who was nothing like anyone I had ever seen.

Marco was blessed with a chiseled body and a stone-cold face. Words couldn't justify this angel of flesh and bones, of blue gaze and gigantic gait. He took my hand and kissed my knuckle. Tingles ran over my skin as his hooded gaze met mine.

Sliding my hand from his hold, Marco opened the car door. "Enjoy the ride, ladies."

I felt blood rush to my cheeks and nether areas as soon as he turned to face me, lending his hand, helping me to get in. Control, woman.

I sat beside Carmen at the back while Marco took the front seat. After a couple of silent minutes, Carmen tapped at the driver's seat, halting the cruise. She looked outside the window, tapping her fingertips together before getting out of the car. I followed her, a puppy blindly hopping behind its master.

We crossed another chain of boutiques. Ranging from expensive jewelry to handbags and clothing, the rows of shops in front of me scrambled my thoughts. How much could she shop?

"What are we here for?" l asked, trotting behind Carmen.

Without a word, she entered another shop, one that reflected shimmering heels from its display windows. My mind eased. A girl couldn't have too many shoes now. Could she?

We walked around, checking every clacker. Like school children, we tried to ramp walk, hooting for each other in every stiletto we could find. With Carmen's bubbling enthusiasm and careless spending spree, she grabbed me a handful of stilettos. I looked at the price tags, my mouth unhinged.

"I love this shopping experience," Carmen gleefully narrated. I could practically see it over her flushed skin. Her eyes crinkled when she smiled, and she looked quite different from when she visited our place. She seemed happy. "I have all boys, and though I love them to death, they are not the best people to take as a company when it comes to this," her hand danced between us.

She sat on a chair, patting one to her left side. Surrounded by the rhythmic hums of bill rolls filling the room, her eyes glistened. "With you, Jojo, I feel like I've found a daughter who loves giving me company." Her hands held mine, pressing them to a point of unwilling submission.

I hated being loved or cared for by her. She was already diverting me from what I assumed would be an easy mission. Trying not to flash the turmoil roiling in my mind, I looked away.

"You must have other friends who can give you company. Aren't they available?" I asked.

Her expressions faltered in the blink of an eye. Her answer was a huffed breath that slumped her shoulders. My question was a damp towel on her soaring enthusiasm.

Changing topic, my voice pitched. "I am hungry. Tell me which place is good around here?" I lent her a helping hand. Her lips parted, her pearly whites came on display. Her feet fired faster than a rocket. I hopped and panted behind, trying to keep up.

This woman was a Cheetah in heels.

"We can walk. It's close by." She pointed ahead, revealing the vacant street. Wherever we went, the guards followed, clearing the crowd. Ignoring the feeling of being constantly watched and its prick on every inch of my body, I looked around.

"It's been so long that I've eaten from there." There was a certain unexplainable excitement in her voice, like a spring attached to her vocal cords. Was this place special?

Stoked Carmen was a faster Carmen. I sprinted behind while she drifted through the cobble-stoned streets.

Assuming we were going to yet another fancy place, I tried keeping a steady pace, unwilling to resemble a sweaty swine. The place where she ceased her march caught me off guard. It was a food truck with a few chairs huddled under a big umbrella.

"This isn't fancy," was another foot-in-the-mouth moment for me. Thankfully, Carmen's laughter affirmed it was fine to blurt random things. She took it in the right stride.

"I thought you wanted something..." she looked at me from top to bottom, whispering with her hand curved near her mouth, "Not so fancy." I nodded at her assumption, feeling better about opening up to her. "If you want, we can always go inside there." She pointed towards the array of fancy restaurants.

Waving my hands, dismissing her proposal, I dragged a chair for her. We sat under shade, ordering from a menu board that was sticky as the summer days. Street food was best enjoyed with a beer and friendly company. I had both.

"I never thought you would be okay eating from here." I blurted the assumption I had of her. Rich women never eat from the streets.

I wanted to be the last person whose nitpicky habits gave her diarrhea. Blowing raspberries and putting her thumbs down, she winked at me. I had her pegged wrong. Carmen was the epitome of appearances being deceptive.

"You know I wasn't born rich." She dug into a piece of succulent pork, looping its shreds in her fork and stuffing her mouth. Her eyes closed, eyelids fluttered as she exhaled. Only when her jaws stopped grinding did she speak. "I was from a normal family. We couldn't afford all this. Then I met Benjamin in college." A sip of water cleansed her palate before she continued with a smile. "The rest is history."

Enticed by her short romantic snippet, I leaned closer, listening to her talk about her family. My heart swooned at the way she talked about siblings and her Abuela. Carmen loved her family. Even more, her children.

My focus shifted when the guarded men on the streets took turns and rearranged themselves. My mind snapped back to reality.

Don't fraternize with the enemy, Jojo. It guilt-tripped me. You can't lose focus.

Shoving those thoughts aside, I pretended to be fascinated by her stories. A pull inside my chest spread, radiating to my throat. Shoving it down with food, I gulped the ball of painful wrongdoing that flared up.

Carmen was genuinely happy, blissfully unaware of what was coming her way. Or her sons.