Dial by Elizabeth Cage Page A

I’m going to die,” Theresa moaned.
    Caylin remained on the brick floor, thankful for a moment of rest, no matter how ill-gotten. And then . . . a light at the end of the tunnel. Diva and Jo were heading toward them, arm in arm.
    â€œWhy do I feel like I just walked into an episode of The Gong Show ?” Jo asked wryly, nearing the scene of the dance catastrophe.
    Diva laughed. “Clearly we were missed out here.”
    â€œYou have no idea.” Caylin grabbed Jorge’s outstretched hand and struggled to her feet.
    â€œI think Trixie and Corinne need to hang up their pearls for the night,” Jo said to Diva. “They’re tough to be around if they don’t get their beauty sleep.”
    â€œGotcha.” Diva placed her hand on Armand’s shoulder and flashed him a flirtatious smile. “Armand, you gorgeous man, let’s talk.”
    As if on cue, Jorge, Carlos, and Juan melted into the background. As the guys plunked into chairs around the dinner table, Theresa, Caylin, and Jo huddled.
    â€œDo you think everything went according to plan?” Caylin asked. If the answer to that question was no, she had sacrificed both her feet and her equilibrium for no good reason.
    â€œI think so,” Jo answered. “Well, I hope so. Sorry for the glitch, guys. You know I didn’t mean to let you down.”
    â€œYou didn’t,” Theresa assured her. “Besides, yourabsence meant that Corinne and I got to suck up all the male attention for once.”
    Jo didn’t respond, and Caylin realized that she was listening in on the conversation—strictly Portuguese—that was taking place between Diva and Armand. Their voices were hushed, and Caylin couldn’t determine the tone of what was being said.
    â€œDo you think it’s a go?” Caylin whispered to Theresa.
    â€œI think we’re about to find out,” Theresa whispered back. “They’re heading this way.”
    Jo flashed a thumbs-up. “The news is going to be good,” she promised, turning back to Caylin and Theresa.
    â€œIt has been a most wonderful evening,” Armand announced. “But, alas, the hour is late.”
    Instantly Jorge, Carlos, and Juan popped up from their seats and gravitated toward the girls. There seemed to be some kind of silent communication between the guys that dictated their actions. Did that mean a simple flick of Armand’s wrist could result in one of Caylin’s dance partners sticking a gun in her face?
    â€œThe pleasure has been ours, Armand,” Jo saidsmoothly. “Please forgive my fit of emotion earlier. It’s just that . . . I find you very attractive. So strong . . . so . . .” Jo let her words linger suggestively, then fluttered her lashes. “It was a moment of weakness.”
    Caylin suppressed a wince. She knew Jo was merely working on Armand’s delusional side, but . . . ugh.
    Armand looked gratified. He shrugged. “It is no problem. I know women—these things happen.” He paused, glancing around the group to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “My new friends, I would like to tell you that I am going to do my best to set up a meeting between you and our boss. As we discussed, he has many investment opportunities to offer.”
    It was the longest speech of the night—and apparently the last. Without another word, Armand and his cronies filed out of La Americana’s back patio and disappeared into the dark night.
    â€œCongratulations, amigas,” Diva said with a smile. “You’re in business.”
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    Theresa was beyond exhaustion, but she knew that she would lie awake for a long time before she fell asleeptonight. The events of the last few hours whirled in her brain as she listened to Caylin and Jo brief Uncle Sam on the all-important evening.
    â€œI’m very pleased with the