Page 40 of Scoreless Nights

“You want to spend your only day off in a department store?”

“I will if you need me to.”

After our talk last night, I wouldn’t have minded spending more time with him. Then again, I didn’tneedto spend more time with him. Pretending to be his date was going to be hard enough.

“No, I better go alone.” I swiped his credit card from under his finger and smiled. “But this will make the afternoon way more fun for me.”

“Don’t hold back, Lil.” His words could’ve come across as being pompous and flashy, but he had a serious look on his face.

“I’m not really even sure what I need. Just an outfit I guess. All I brought with me was clothes for the interviews.”

“Just remember you’re the one doing me a favor, so have fun. Get whatever.”

“I better get to it then.” I waved his credit card in the air. “It’s gonna take me a while to get to Dolphin Mall.”

“There are one million shops right here on South Beach. You don’t need to drive all the way to Dolphin Mall. Besides, isn’t that mall an outlet?”

“I like shopping at outlets. My mom and I would spend a full day at outlet malls getting ready for each new school year when I was growing up.”

“My mom and I did something similar, but instead of going to outlets, we would spend the whole day at the flea market. That’s where I would get all my things.” The memory made him smile. “But that’s not the point. The point is that the card has no limit on it, and I’ve given you free rein to swipe it as many times as you want. Don’t worry about the cost, Lil. Stay here in South Beach and don’t fight the traffic.”

I shook my head and looked down at my feet as I shuffled toward my bedroom. I knew Cruz wasn’t Richard Gere, and I wasn’t Julia Roberts, but it sure felt like if I got turned away from a posh boutique here in South Beach, I’d be able to go back with an arm full of bags and tell them they made a big mistake.

Putting on some comfortable leggings and a tank top, I got ready for what felt like war. It might not have been the best shopping attire, but it was all anyone around here wore when they weren’t in their bathing suits, and I wanted to blend in as much as possible. I grabbed my sunglasses and my bag to finish the look then cut back across the living room and toward the kitchen. Cruz was fixing himself a sandwich, which was not something he could’ve done had I not gone shopping for groceries.

“Maybe while I’m out I should use this to stock up your fridge,” I joked. He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me, like I had just discovered the molecular structure of DNA.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before. I’ve never worried about food, but you staying here should have made me worry about it. Just keep that card. Use it for whatever. Better yet, I’ll have them send me one in your name.”

“Whoa,” I snorted. “I was just kidding. Stop trying to make me spend your money.”

“You’re helping me. Not just tomorrow night, but it’s been nice having food here at home. There’s no reason I shouldn’t foot the bill for that.”

All I could do was shake my head and change the subject. “Well, wish me luck.” I took a few more steps towards the front door. “If your dad calls, I told my mom I was window shopping to get out for a while. I wasn’t in the mood to explain our fake date.”

Cruz had a mouthful of his sandwich and was nodding, trying to swallow it down before he responded. “Pretty sure my dad would try to ground me like I was a kid if he knew I was taking you as my date to a sponsorship dinner.”

* * *

Every shop and boutique I went into was overwhelmingly posh. I felt so out of sorts and wasn’t even sure how to properly shop at places that didn’t have racks of clothes with price tags that I could flip through.

Instead, these places had nine mannequins, fully dressed in outfits, and if I liked one of the outfits they would bring me that outfit in my size. Even knowing I was using Cruz’s card, I still wanted to know how much I was spending. But I was too scared to ask. As much as I loved the movie Pretty Woman, I didn’t want to live it.

After a few hours of failed attempts, I walked into a place called Sean Lala. The girl behind the counter must’ve seen my resignation because she walked toward me with her arms stretched out like she was going to give me a hug. She settled for grabbing my shoulders and tilting her head as she asked, “Tell me what you need girl. I got you.”

“I’m going to a…thingtomorrow night,” I sighed. “I need something dressy but not formal and I’m really tired of shopping.”

“What kind ofthing? A dinner? A party? A sporting event?

How did I explain to her that she was right on all three accounts? It was a party that was serving dinner about sporting stuff.

“Yes.”

“Which one?” she laughed.

“Yes,” I repeated, “those all sound about right. It’s a dinner party about sports stuff.” I hoped she didn’t ask for more details because even though she was a stranger, I didn’t want to tell her where I was going, just in case she was one of Cruz Martin’s major female fans.

“Okay, so this is how we stage our floor, but we have a ton of options in the back. Take a seat and let me bring you some things.”

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