Chapter 2 #2
The other woman made a noise of agreement as she washed her hands, then shook them vigorously underneath the dryer.
“You’re not wrong. What do you think of the Marie Antoinette-theme?
Isn’t it just so ‘let them eat cake?’ I’m in with the hosts of the party—technically I’m—” She cut herself off, shaking her head quickly.
“Anyway, tonight’s a celebratory business agreement with the bank and the client, and it’s all so boring.
I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat kind of person, you know?
” She pursed her lips and gave herself a once-over while fluffing her messy hair.
“Life is so boring when one’s too serious.
” She turned to Reyana with a grin. “If my man doesn’t show up, I plan to party the night away anyway.
No use in wasting a good time on boo-hoo tears when I can easily find a replacement. ”
“You are absolutely right,” Reyana agreed, side-eyeing the confident gazelle. She had that sort of mantra in her life, too, in certain respects.
Well, that clinched it for her. She would stay and enjoy herself.
She might as well. She was already there, wearing the themed costume, and it would be a shame to give up free champagne and the endless platters of fat oysters and the airily swirled pate canapés she saw the waiters passing around before ducking into the bathroom.
She was also curious about the contents of the shiny black shopping bags lined up in neat rows on tables by the doors.
These kinds of parties always had really good swag bags.
Tonight, they were calling them "treat bags" for the Halloween theme and said they would be handed out at the end of the night. Plus, she couldn’t ignore the enormous tower of glittering, wide-mouthed champagne glasses that had been assembled by the dance floor. There was only one reason for a setup like that—champagne was going to be poured, and lots of it. And who didn’t love a good display like that?
Sameer had also mentioned there would be Broadway performers showcasing Moulin Rouge numbers.
It was all about gluttony, and Reyana was here for it.
Financially, she’d had to tighten her belt lately, as she was between jobs, so she was really looking forward to partaking.
Halloween was her favorite time of year. Shouldn’t she make the best of it?
The other woman scrutinized Reyana as she reapplied her blood-red lipstick. “You’re devouring in that costume. Rent or buy?”
Reyana glanced down at her black-and-purple sumptuous crushed velvet number, with frills and bows galore—very Rococo, Marie-Antoinette-themed.
The bodice was uber-cinched in and dropped to a sharp point at her waist in front.
The neckline was square and low, puffing her average-sized breasts over the delicate black laced edging.
The dress’s skirt lay over a pannier hoop, giving her a bustle in back and a widened hip silhouette—not as wide as they’d worn at Louis XVI’s court, but it gave a similar effect.
The dress ended right above her knees, ensuring her black fishnet stockings and lavender satin heeled boots were on display.
“Actually, this is all mine. I shopped every bit of this costume,” she finally answered. “And my man’s, too.”
Sameer’s costume matched hers with a black satin tailcoat and matching pants. She didn’t think she could get him to wear the lavender men’s wig she’d found, but she’d sent it along with everything else anyway.
She’d already received multiple compliments on her costume since arriving, aware the praise would’ve been even higher if Sameer had been by her side, matching in their lavish get-ups. She took great pride in both of their looks for the evening.
“No way!”
“Yeah, I’m kind of a vintage shop whore,” she said happily. “And honestly, anything to do with cosplay is my thing.”
Costumes and dressing up were Reyana’s very favorite things in the entire world because she got to be someone else—her reason for loving Halloween, too.
It was also why she’d studied Theater in college, with a stint in Costume Design.
That ended when she’d followed a certain smoking-hot TA into a Communications major and finally settled on General Studies because nothing held her attention for too long.
But changing her image—being a chameleon—was possibly the only thing that was constant about her.
She got bored easily—or at least that’s what her family was convinced was her problem, though she was pretty happy with her life choices.
Like this woman, she felt life wasn’t meant to be taken too seriously.
And “dumpster diving,” as her parents called it (though nothing remotely resembling trash was ever involved), was her version of a good high.
She was happiest when she was shopping racks upon racks in musty thrift and consignment stores, discovering unique finds and treasures to add to her get-ups or decorate her home with.
“Well, you’re crushin’ it. I bet you win the best costume of the night contest. You entered, right? Have you heard what the prize is? A trip to a ritzy chateau in the French countryside.” The woman didn’t sound impressed. “Yawn,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you’re into that kind of thing.”
Reyana could think of nothing better or more exciting.
She’d covertly tossed her name in the voting box multiple times (she wasn’t above cheating here) as soon as she learned about the contest and prize.
The thrill of seeing a real, true castle would make her younger self skip with joy (her older self, too).
She’d been obsessed with princesses as a kid.
Was it cheesy? Yes. Was it also romantic?
Heck yes. And maybe if she won, she and Sameer could go together, rekindle their fizzled-out sizzle—
“I love your hair, too. Tell me you didn’t do that all on your own.”