I raise a brow. “Really? What? A white stretch Cadillac limo?”
“Is that what you want?”
I sigh, knowing that if I said yes, he would make it happen. “Not particularly.”
He chuckles. “Something less ostentatious,” he says. “He’ll also make sure you’re safe.”
This obsession with my safety… It’s endearing, but tiring. “Why wouldn’t I be safe?”
He doesn’t reply. “I’ll see you Saturday,” he says. “I... take care.”
I… what? I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Take care,” I reply softly.
WE talk again before I go to bed, and the next day on my way to work, then again at lunchtime. After work, Laurie and I arrive early at Chelsea’s place. She instructed us not to bother with hair and makeup, so when Rafael drops us at her Upper East Side apartment, we’re still dressed casually.
A doorman lets us in from the street, then the reception checks to make sure that our names are on the visitor’s list before directing us to an elevator.
“We should have let the parents pay for a place for us when they first offered,” Laurie says in the elevator. “We could be living like this.”
“Like, seriously,” I agree, looking around the mirrored interior of the elevator. Our parents had tried to get us a place, but we’d been determined to be independent. They’d still paid the lease on our apartment, but it was closer to something Laurie and I could actually afford on our income, without depending on them, or the money that somehow became ours when our dads’ sold a percentage of their business.
Chelsea’s apartment is one of four on her floor. It isn’t huge, but it’s obviously expensive and professionally decorated. “Oh, you guys!” She exclaims, hugging Laurie and giving me one hurried air kiss. She has curlers in her hair and her nails are drying. “Come and get prettied up.”
There are two stylists. Twins. Hector and Caesar, and they are hilarious. Hector’s eyelash extensions are longer than anyone, male or female has a right to wear, and Caesar’s leather pants are so tight, it’s a wonder that he can walk at all. They’re from Bergdorf Goodman, so they know all the best gossip and they keep it coming while they tweeze our brows, give us manicures and fix our hair and makeup.
About two hours later, already in a good mood from the delicious chocolate liqueur Chelsea was very generous with, we troop downstairs, where Rafael is waiting in a classic black limo.
“I look like I need a pro footballer on my arm,” Laurie says, catching her reflection in the tinted window glass. “What do you think?”
“Yup,” I agree. She does look spectacular in a short black dress with studded platform heels. “They’d be lucky to be there.”
“Awww,” She smiles. “You’re so wonderful.”
Chelsea rolls her eyes and slides inside the car, scooting to the far side. “Come on girls. Let’s go. Tonight we’re partying like rock stars.”
The club we go to is called Felony. According to Chelsea, it’s the newest and hottest in town. Once there, even though there’s a queue as long as two blocks, she walks straight to the door, where the bouncer unclips the rope and lets us in.
Inside, the lights are dim, and the beat is strong enough to make my bones vibrate. The song playing is a very popular hip-hop jam, and my jaw almost drops when I see that the singer, a hip-hop phenomenon, is actually performing it on a raised stage.
“Cool, right?” A blue strobe light hits Chelsea’s face, showing her broad grin.
I have to scream over the music. “Hell yes!”
“Come on,” she grabs my hand. “The bar’s over there.”
We order shots and down two each. The burning sensation shoots straight from my throat and stomach to my head. Beside me, Laurie is nodding her head to the music.
“I need another drink, then I’m hitting the floor,” she looks at me. “Game?”
I nod. “Of course.”
We order two more shots. Chelsea is being chatted up by a sexy guy with a heavily-muscled chest showed off in a tight t-shirt. He looks vaguely familiar, then I realize that I’ve seen him on TV, in a popular sitcom. I look around, wondering how many famous people are among the gyrating bodies on the dance floor.
I’m about to tell Laurie I’m ready to dance when strong arms encircle me from behind. Spinning around, I come face to face with Chadwick Black.
“Chadwick!” I return his hug. “What’re you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” He throws back. I haven’t seen him since the day I ran into him at the office, and I had no idea he was still in town. “You look fabulous,” he says, looking me over. “Absolutely delicious.”