Chapter 5
FIVE
“Don’t you think this is too much?” I twirl in the bedroom, showing off the dress Lily picked for me tonight. I hate it. It’s far too much for a dinner date, but she’s all smiles, sitting in the middle of my bed, clapping like a lunatic.
“Twirl one more time,” she demands with a laugh. I do as instructed, even though I want nothing more than to burn this stupid dress. I didn’t even buy it. Sunshine did, like six years ago. Maybe even longer than that. He’d seen it in a window at some shop in some town and gave it to me the next time he visited. It’s been hanging in the back of my closet since. Sentimental value requires me to keep the garment when my personal tastes want nothing more than to cover up. There’s far too much skin, and as a person who likes cropped shirts and shorter dresses, that’s saying something. This has Julia Roberts, Pretty Woman, written all over it. The black lace cocktail dress she wore, only it’s much shorter, a mere five inches from my lady cat, and it’s made so the woman wearing it can’t wear a bra. The neckline, there is none. It dips down the center, separating the sides, reaching almost my navel. To wear this, you need boob tape and lots of it to keep it from playing peek-a-boo with your nips. My areolas are dark. They don’t need to be shared with the rest of the world.
I run my fingers down the lacey middle, in the valley between my breasts. “This is too much,” I explain to Lily for the hundredth time since she had me try it on.
“It’s beautiful.” She sighs dreamily like she wants to be the one wearing it.
“I’m taking it off.” I reach awkwardly around my back to unzip it.
“No!” Lily clambers to her feet and points at me with some serious girl-tude. “It stays. You said I could pick.” Her bottom lip juts into a pout as if that level of cuteness will change my mind.
Fuck.
I shake my head. “Lily.”
She waggles her dark eyebrows just like her father. “Todd will be speechless.” She lays it on thick as if I care what Todd thinks. I also don’t have the heart to tell her Todd is already speechless half the time when we’re together. If he’s not staying on safe topics, he’s a nervous, bumbling mess that I find more endearing than annoying. That’s why I keep the nice man around.
“Is this because I showed you Pretty Woman last month?” I sweep my hand down my side and do another small turn.
Lily’s nose crinkles. “You’re not a prostitute, Kali. You’re a lady.”
Oh, boy.
I drag a palm down my face and sigh. That’s not what I meant. I was talking about the dress, not the character. Yes, I showed an eight-year-old Pretty Woman . She’s mature for her age. I even explained the parts to her she didn’t quite understand and covered her eyes on the sexier bits. Lily’s slowly moving away from Coraline and into a swoony romance phase. I expected it to hit her in middle school, but she’s been asking for more romance as time passes. Once I showed her Runaway Bride , she’s been on a Julia Roberts kick ever since.
“Prostitutes are also ladies,” I explain. “Sometimes people do things to survive. They’re doing the best they can, and that’s all we can expect from anybody. Right?”
Taken aback by my mom talk, a wrinkle forms between Lily’s brows. “Yes. Right.” She nods. “I didn’t mean it like that .” Falling onto her butt on the mattress, she crosses her legs.
“Okay. I’m just making sure we’re on the same page.”
She nods again, clearly troubled by my assumption. I run the tips of my fingers along the lacey edge of the dress. This isn’t going to work. I can’t even bend over in this thing without giving everyone a vagina show, and while I shaved tonight because it’s date night, and that typically leads to bedroom time, this outfit is too much.
I reach for the zipper again, and Lily claps. “Kali.”
Grumbling beneath my breath, I pause with the toggle pinched between two fingers. “What?”
“Why don’t you feel beautiful?” Lily’s eyes round in question, her tulip lips drawing into a straight, unimpressed line as she awaits a valid answer.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, dropping the zipper to shrug .
Because I don’t know.
Maybe I don’t want to feel pretty right now. I haven’t worn much makeup as of late. I rarely do my hair. Everything I washed and put away this week were black leggings and random oversized shirts.
“You’re sad,” she observes, much like Till, only it stings a little more when it’s a child calling you out on your crap.
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I cross both arms over my chest. “I don’t know what I am,” I admit, tapping my bare foot on the hardwood floor.
“Mom’s sad, too. It’s okay to be sad. But Todd makes you smile, and he’s nice to us. I think you should wear something nice for your date. He’ll like your dress. It’s awesome.” A sweet smile quirks at the corner of the wise girl's lips, and I… fine. She wins. Todd is nice. I am sad. He will like this dress. I suppose it isn’t so bad. It is nicely made. Sunshine did buy it for me. What can it hurt?
Dramatically huffing, I relent and slap my bare feet like a petulant toddler all the way into the bathroom, where I get an official look at myself in the mirror. Alright. I don’t look all that bad.
I cup my hands beneath both of my gravity-wounded breasts and force them into place, nips out. In the drawer, I riffle through my mound of makeup to the bottom and find the boob tape to use for this occasion. The wrapper is still on, but it doesn’t take long to tape what needs to be tapped and keep what needs in place, with sticky stuff that won’t be sexy to remove when the naughty time comes. If it comes.
“Lily,” I call. “Are you picking makeup, or am I? ”
Fussing with my hair by pinning it into a sultry updo, with wisps left tickling my neck, much like the whole Julia Roberts, Pretty Woman -vibe, but the red dress hairstyle this time, I gesture to the open makeup drawer when Lily races into the room, her bare feet slapping hard against the tiled floor.
“Me,” she crows excitedly, digging through what I own.
I step to the side to give her space to work her magic. What’s the worst that can happen? I feel out of place. So, what? It wouldn’t be a first. I don’t care much about that kind of stuff. Awkwardness loses its charm once you’ve worked in the places I have, on the jobs I have for the club. You learn to fake it ‘til you make it. A brave smile can move mountains in the right setting.
Wanting to keep every strand of hair in place, I aerosol the crap out of it. Not enough to make it crunchy, but enough that a breeze won’t move it much.
Humming to herself, Lily sets her entire arsenal of makeup options on the counter.
“Smokey eye?” I ask, noting the pallets of darker eyeshadows she has out.
“Sure.” Lily opens a handful of lipsticks to select the perfect one, and as she does that, I get to work with my face.
A smidge of concealer does wonders to remove the darkened bags under my eyes, Till so graciously pointed out. Once Lily is satisfied with her choices, she hops up and sits on the counter to watch me work. We chat about makeup and her choice of colors as I finish getting ready for my date with Todd, who should arrive any minute .
“This necklace.” Lily unhooks a long, silver, triple-layer chain from a jewelry hook on the wall. She drapes it over her pointer finger and waits for me to finish applying my nude lipstick and matching liner to put it on.
“This one, huh?” I slide it off her finger, wrap the triple strands around my neck, and hum my approval when it drapes perfectly. The shortest layer is a chain with a row of thicker round beads, the middle is a simple bird floating mid-chest, and the longest is a crystal teardrop that caresses the bare valley between my breasts.
Lily grins as I turn toward her and half-assed curtsy. “Well… how do I look?”
My hype girl claps. “Amazing!” she cheers. “See, I was right. That’s the perfect dress.”
I don’t know if it's perfect, but I roll with her excitement, taking some of it as my own.
As I help Lily down off the counter, I peck her forehead in gratitude. “You were right,” I groan, and she smiles, loving her win.
The doorbell rings.
Eyes rounding in excitement, Lily races from the room. “I’ve got it!”
“Yeah. I see that!” I call to her retreating back as she welcomes Todd inside. Exiting the bathroom, I rifle through the bottom of my closet for heels to match this dress and a jacket to keep from catching a chill.
Begrudgingly, a strappy pair of black, toe-hugging stilettoes are all I can seem to find. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I put them on and listen to Todd chat with Lily in the living room.
“She’ll be out in a minute,” I overhear Lily say .
Todd chuckles warmly and replies something in return, but I can’t make it out.
Ready to get this show on the road, I remove my longest coat from a hanger, drape it over my forearm, expel a breath, and ready myself for a night out with Todd. You’d think this would get easier—dating, communicating, getting to know someone. But it hasn’t. It feels new. Too new. I know lots of people relish budding romances, all those hormones flying. The sex is usually out of this world. Your endorphins are screaming at you that this is the one. At least, that’s what little I remember of it. Dark’s the only real man I’ve dated, dated, for any length of time, and I married the jerk.
Sure, Angel and a handful of others were friends and often a no-strings-attached booty call, but Todd isn’t that. After a single date at a small diner, he asked for exclusivity. Thanks to Dark and his laundry list of horrendous relationship practices, I jumped at the bit to be exclusive with someone I knew wouldn’t dream of sleeping with anyone else while we were together. There’s comfort in that, knowing they aren’t leaving every few months to fuck someone else on the DL.
Ugh.
Nope.
No more thinking about Dark, Sunshine, or the past.
It’s date night.
Smoothing a hand down my black lace dress, I straighten my shoulders and saunter like a sex kitten out of the bedroom into the living room, where Lily and Todd stand in the middle, chatting amicably.
When they hear me coming, my heels click , click , clicking across the hardwood, they turn. For the rest of my life, Todd’s mouth dropping open will forever be etched into my brain.
Lily giggles as he openly stares, and I blush. I can’t help it.
When it’s been a solid ten seconds, Todd finally closes his mouth, swallows thicky, and clears his throat. Then he adjusts something in his pants.
I press my lips together to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl.
Because this is… Nice.
“Kali,” he breathes, blinking a handful of times. “You… I… Wow.” His head shakes in awe. “I… You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever met.” Sincerity hangs in his words.
Warmth skitters through me as a small, shy smile graces my lips.
Todd offers his hand—five thick fingers with well-trimmed nails.
Taking my last few steps, I slide my palm into his, and he clears his throat again. “You… You ready for dinner, beautiful?”
I nod and turn to Lily. “You gonna make it home safe?”
The sassy girl rolls those gray eyes so far into the back of her skull I’m afraid they’ll get stuck. “I live two houses down.” She smirks.
Mimicking her attitude, I roll my eyes, too. “I know. But I care.”
Lily doesn’t respond in words but wraps her small arms around my waist in a brief but tight hug .
I return her embrace with a one-armed squeeze of my own. “Love you, kiddo. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
“Love you, too. Have fun.” Releasing me, Lily turns and skips to the front door, opening it for us like a butler. Bending at the waist, her hand sweeps toward the exit. “For the lady and her gentleman.”
With my jacket draped over my forearm and Todd’s hand folded in mine, we chuckle at Lily’s adorableness. “Hold on. I gotta get my purse first.” Tugging Todd along, I grab my bag from the entrance table next to the raven and Sunshine’s abandoned key. I haven’t had the heart to move it. The silver sits there, a constant reminder of what happened.
None of that matters now.
I can dwell on that later. Which I will. Because that’s what I do.
Out the front door, we pass by Lily, and Todd helps me down the steps so I don’t embarrass myself by falling in these heels I haven’t worn in years. His Toyota is parked in front of the house. As always, he opens his passenger-side door and waits for me to slide in before he shuts me inside and rounds the hood. I tuck my purse on the floor beside my feet and set my jacket on top. My dress rides up, as I suspected it would, and nearly exposes the black strip of fabric covering my lady parts. As Todd turns over the engine, I click my seatbelt into place and tug the hem of my dress down. It’s not like he hasn’t seen it before, but that’s not the point. We’re on a date. The point isn’t to give him a show before it even starts.
Soft country music flares to life as we navigate through my neighborhood and into the busier parts of town .
Todd reaches his hand across the console to rest on my bare thigh. “You look stunning.” He peeks at me out of the corner of his eye, a small, shy smile kicking up at the edge of his lips.
Warmth skitters through me at his compliment as I toy with the hem of my dress. “Thanks.” I pause to take in his profile. Todd’s not a bad-looking guy. He’s quite handsome in an average, midwestern guy way. His long-sleeved, navy-blue button-up compliments his blue eyes and dirty blond hair. Just enough white-gray peppers his temples, making him appear more distinguished. A fancy silver watch adorns the wrist he uses to steer. His business casual attire suits him well—black trousers, black shoes, styled hair, and a cleanly shaven face. He isn’t so tall that he’s imposing, but he’s not too short either. I also find his little belly cute. It adds to his charm.
As I watch the world fly by out of the passenger-side window, Todd regales me with stories from work. In case you forgot, he’s a dentist.
“I had one kid with such bad overcrowding I had to remove four teeth. He’ll be back next month to remove another two.”
I hum in response, not knowing how to reply. But I listen. About the elderly lady getting dentures and the little boy coming for his first visit. Todd chats animatedly. His hand on my thigh twitches the more excited he becomes.
When we park out front of a glass-paned restaurant, an elderly couple dressed in their Sunday best exit the front doors wearing the biggest smiles. On the sidewalk, the man takes his wife’s oversized purse as she shrugs on her lightweight jacket. Love as clear as day shines in the man’s eyes as he waits patiently for his partner. When she gets her arm stuck, he tosses his head back and laughs before he intervenes so she doesn’t hurt herself. I sigh inwardly at the private moment. It’s the little things that matter most. Sure, the wife probably thinks nothing of it. After forty years of her husband holding her purse or helping her with her jacket, it’s normal for them. But from the outside looking in, it’s much more.
The car door opens, drawing me from my revere.
Todd extends his hand. “Are you ready to give everybody whiplash?” His cheeks pinken, and he looks away, embarrassed by what he said. “Sorry.” He clears his throat, and I smirk as I slide my palm into his and swing my legs from the car. Doing my best to keep my dress from showing too much, I stand with as much grace as I can muster, with my purse slung over my shoulder, and my jacket draped over my forearm.
I pat Todd’s arm as I slip mine through his. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”