Page 28

I wake up to an empty bed. Phoenix is up, bright and early as usual. I hear hushed tones, but I don't see anyone. I get up and follow the murmuring. It sounds soft and caring. It's Phoenix, on the phone out on the balcony.

Who does he keep talking to? A friend? Is it a woman?

It's none of your business. He's with you, so there's nothing to worry about.

Remember how Sebastian turned out.

Can't live in the past forever.

"No, Mom, I'm fine. You worry too much . . . ." Phoenix leans over the balcony railing.

See?

I shrug it off. Wearing his white tank top which fits like a short dress on me, I tiptoe to the shower, so I don't disturb him.

The gigantic, square showerhead beads water down beautifully on my body.

With the temperature as hot as I can stand it, I soak in a steady flow of steam and enjoy an intense, massaging waterfall, just for me.

I find myself in deep relaxation, when Phoenix decides to join me.

He enters the fogged-out glass shower and begins laying hands on my back.

His fingers penetrate my tense muscles. I'm putty in his hands right now. Mold me!

The man has skills. This is something I can get into.

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People watching on the street-facing side of the wrap-around balcony, is sort of like National Geographic for the concrete jungle.

So much can be learned just by watching.

The girls down there are wearing bikinis.

In public. I've seen it on TV a trillion times, but never in real life, right before my eyes.

They're dressed like that in stores, restaurants, boutiques, everywhere.

Rarely am I seeing jeans. A few dresses and some shorts, but everyone's wearing mostly bathing suits and sandals.

I'm feeling adventurous. It's time to get out of my comfort zone.

As the saying goes, when in Rome . . . .

Mia, Penelope and I have a little pow-wow out on the main balcony.

"I say it's time to go shopping."

Penelope points to me. "She's right. How else can we look like we belong, if we don't shop at their stores? Mistake me for a South Beach hottie any day!"

"When you're right you right. We need to get that new-new, not these tired old bikinis we brought from Milwaukee." Mia flings her bikini top across the balcony.

"Cause I ain't trying to be out here looking all haggardly. No, Penelope don't do that. Ya girl gotta be crisp and clean. OK!"

"Then it's settled."

An hour later, I'm trying on an emerald green and white polka-dot bikini.

The boutique sales girl says it looks amazing against my skin and with my hair curly, I remind her of her visits to Brazil, somehow.

I'm sold on the fact that the bra, which is made of two tiny triangles of fabric on strings, makes my breasts look a full cup-size larger.

My tan leather-and-cork sandals and an oversized tan hobo bag complete the look.

Truth be told, I'm a bit nervous going out in public in just a bikini.

Everyone says it looks nice, but I feel naked.

My Midwestern values shout inappropriate as I walk out of the dressing room to look in the hall mirror.

I'm scared to look up, afraid to face myself, especially under these harsh fluorescent lights.

I should've left that extra helping of fries alone, yesterday.

Phoenix walks over. "That bikini is it. You've got that coke-bottle figure, your ass sits upright. That's the one."

Those few words are all I needed to hear.

I unfold like a flower. My arms loosen their grip as I no longer feel the need to cover myself.

Standing in front of the mirror, I finally allow myself to see what everyone else seems to see.

I walk down the hall and back, gaining more confidence with each step.

Phoenix is right, I can rock this. If other girls can do it, why can't I?

Mia decides on a vibrant, cobalt blue bikini with fringe hanging from the top and the hip area of the bottoms. Penelope dons a white crochet swimsuit with back and side cut-outs.

It might as well be a bikini. The top and bottom are connected only by a narrow strip of crocheted fabric that covers her navel.

Sheila, Nixon's wife, decides on a black one-piece and a sarong to wrap around her hips.

A little conservative for Miami if you ask me, but to each their own.

Eager to feel like true South Beach natives, we all decide to wear our bathing suits right out of the boutique. We pay for them and stuff the clothes we wore into store bags.

"Where to ladies?" Phoenix asks.

"I don't care. I just want to walk down the street half-naked. I can't believe people do this. This is so wild!" Unable to contain my excitement, I find myself jumping up and down.

Maybe we're a little too excited? Let's calm it down. Wouldn't want the twins popping out unexpectedly.

"That was fun! Can we check out some other boutiques and shops?"

"Let's do it. What about this place?" Penelope points to a storefront down the street.

"Oh, I'd love a new pair of sunglasses." Mia nods in agreement.

JC takes Penelope by the hand. "Come on. Let's see what they've got in here."

As we're walking through the crowd, random guys take pictures of me and my girls. One guy even stops me and asks if I can pose in a picture with him, as if I'm a celebrity. I look at Phoenix. There's red in his eyes.

"Hey, if you want a picture, it'll cost you a bill," Phoenix wagers.

"A hundred dollar?" the guy replies with raised eyebrows.

"Yep."

"That's OK." He backs away.

"Thought so." Phoenix lets the victory soak in.

"Very effective." I give him a polite applause.

"You like that?"

I roll my eyes, smirking at how smooth he is. "Clever and manipulative."

"It was well played, if you ask me," Sheila interrupts.

As a matter of fact, no, we didn't ask you.

"Phoenix managed to get you to see that not only was that guy cheap, but he also didn't think you were worth the money, apparently.

So ultimately, he pales in comparison to Phoenix and is a total waste of your time.

Brilliant! I love moves like that. You're speaking volumes without saying much at all. "

'Moves like that?' Is this chick diabolical or what? She's talking like she lives in a soap opera or Big Brother. She's a little too calculating.

We wade through the overcrowded street and arrive at the sunglasses shop.

"Hi, can I see that pair there? The oversized cat-eye ones?"

The salesgirl picks up the wrong glasses.

"The black Jimmy Choo ones over there?"

She passes me the sunglasses.

"These are super cute. How much are they?"

Phoenix interrupts. "Don't worry about that. I got you."

"See?" Sheila glares at me over a pair of sunglasses she's trying on.

I nod politely.

Will you go dig a hole or something, lady?

I've never shopped this way before. Cost is always a part of the equation. I can't remember a time when it wasn't. Now he wants me to ignore the price tag? What do I use to say no to myself?

He's already bought you a car, how is this any different?

That's the whole point. I'm racking up quite a bit in the "I Owe You" category. I don't like that.

"Thank you?" A sense of unease clings to me. I'm out of my element. I'm used to struggle. That feels normal to me. Being on easy street does not. There's got to be a catch.

Relax, Ari. There's no catch. He's just generous. He's been this way since you met him. Be cool!

"That's . . . hmm . . . really nice, Phoenix but you've already done so much."

"Listen, I want you to have the best. You deserve it. If you want something, just get it." The warmth of his smile is contagious and reassuring.

It's almost as if I'll disappoint him if I don't accept. "OK? If you say so?" I wince.

This man is everything I never knew I wanted and that's starting to scare me.

I try on a pair of Cartier sunglasses and look in the mirror. I've got to admit, I absolutely love how good they look on me but the battle isn't won. That price tag is calling my name. I need to know how much.

Phoenix wants you to have nice things! Get the glasses!

But what if these sunglasses are hundreds of dollars. Do I really need them?

No, but they are nice and it's OK to get nice things every once in a while!

I resist the urge to ask the clerk the price.

I sit the sunglasses on the counter and let her know I'll take them.

A thrilling sensation rockets through my entire body, like I've just released an invisible weight, that's been weighing me down for a long time.

There's more room to be myself without limitation.

And yes, I think I like it. I like this perspective. I like viewing the world from up here.

Phoenix whips out his black card and without a second thought, pays for everyone's new designer shades.

Mind. Blown.

We walk out of the boutique looking like local reality TV celebrities and once again, we're back in the midst of a street so full of people, that cars are at a full standstill.

If it's not a Maserati or Maybach, it's a pimped-out vintage muscle car sitting in traffic and I don't think the drivers' mind waiting much.

Because as far as the eye can see, they're surrounded by eye candy.

Women flashing skin, walking in platform sandals and skimpy bikinis.

Guys flashing their lifestyle, wearing huge chains and matching watches with ice so bright that I'm almost blinded when the sunlight hits it.

And Phoenix is no exception. The bold, big face of his Rolex watch is lined in row after row of shimmering diamonds and the crucifix on his chest is also diamond-encrusted. I guess, when in Rome . . . .

Phoenix's phone rings. Stepping away, he excuses himself to take the call. Everyone else keeps chatting, but curiosity refuses to release me. It's strange because he doesn't act this way with all his calls. He usually talks right in front of me. My eyes and ears follow him.

Why is he so private with this person? What are they talking about?

You know what, sometimes curiosity does kill the cat. Things are going well, don't ruin it.

I take in a deep breath and exhale.

Maybe it's just his mom.

Let it be.

Phoenix walks back to the group.

"You good?" I ask, hoping he'll volunteer details, anything to put my mind at ease.

"I'm good."

Damn. He has a good poker face as we wander over to the Versace mansion.

Standing in front of it, I take a few pictures. I imagine the simple exterior alludes to something spectacular just beyond the front door. With all that space, how can you not have everything you want? What secrets lie behind mansion walls like these?

"We're trying to figure out where to go next." Penelope motions for me to join the group.

"We're going to an all-white party tonight, right Riz?" Mia confirms.

I turn around and join the group. "Who made those plans?" I ask with a slight frown.

"Riz has his hand on the pulse of Miami. He knows everything that goes down here," JC replies.

"Plus, he has the key."

"Ari, did you know he has the key to Miami, girl?" Mia's eyes look like they're about to pop with excitement.

"And being a club promoter has its perks. I'm coast to coast, baby." Riz playfully pretends to pop his non-existent collar like a seventies cool cat with mad style.

"Right. We've got the all-white party, tonight." Phoenix looks at me. "We need threads for the occasion."

"Then we want to go to the Miami Design District. They have all the brands you're looking for. Louboutin, Burberry, Dior."

"That's where we want to be. Let's hit it up. I'll get Leon to meet us and take us over there."

We stop for refreshments at a nearby cafe and wait at a table outside.

"You girls might want to change. It's one thing to sport a swimsuit on South Beach, but we're going towards downtown. The vibe is different there."

We take turns in the bathroom of the café, getting changed. Before long, Leon pulls up and we all get in.

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