5. Chapter 5
five
DAISY
In my bedroom, I turn from side to side, staring with wide eyes at my reflection. When Sally said she wanted to give me a makeover for our night out, this was not what I expected. No wonder she didn’t want me peeking until she was done. I look like a completely different person.
“I can’t leave the apartment looking like this,” I choke with shock.
Sally pushes off the bed, her face falling with disappointment. “You don’t like it?”
Leaning toward the mirror, I take a closer look at my face.
Big black lashes flutter as I take it all in.
Deep, smoky shadows emphasize my eyes. A subtle winged black eyeliner flicks from the corners.
My skin is glowing. The makeup is flawless.
It’s not what I’m used to. A swipe of mascara on my eyelashes and a brush of lip gloss, and I’m good to go. This is too much.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. You’ve done an amazing job. It just doesn’t suit me.”
“You look fabulous. It takes some time to get used to, that’s all.”
I take another long look. I’m not sure I could ever get used to this, and that’s only my face.
Next, my gaze travels over my body and the clothes Sally put me in.
She insisted on blindfolding me and dressed me like a toddler in a tight black miniskirt that barely covers my butt.
If I wore this, which at this moment I’m seriously doubting I will, there’s no chance of bending down without flashing the goods.
Next, she put me in a fuchsia-colored, V-necked top that plunges so low it almost reaches my belly button, exposing my breasts and sitting precariously close to my nipples.
I’m a nip slip waiting to happen. In fact, everything about this outfit is dangerously close to exposing something.
What was Sally thinking? The only thing I’m comfortable with is my hair.
My long blonde hair falls straight to the middle of my back, like I normally wear it.
Maybe I should brush it over my shoulders and use it as a cover for my breasts.
No, I won’t do that. This outfit is coming off.
“I can’t pull this off.” Sometimes I wish I could break free and be a little less conservative. Like Sally. Sometimes I wonder how two best friends can be so different. Yet, somehow, we work.
“It’s not too much. This is how women dress when they go clubbing. You’re probably a little overdressed.”
I wave a hand up and down my body. “Overdressed? What are women wearing… nothing?” It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a nightclub. It’s never been my scene. The times I have gone, I’ve worn way more than this, and Sally never had a problem with it.
She stands behind me and rests her hands on my shoulders. Our eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror. “Stop overthinking it. You’re hot. I wish you’d show off your amazing body more often.”
Working as an administrative officer for my father’s church, Fortitude Baptist Church, and attending service every Sunday, dressing modestly is part of my job. What if someone saw me wearing such revealing clothes? I take pride in my place in the church. Would it somehow reflect poorly on me?
“Can’t I wear something in my closet that I’m more comfortable in?” I fidget with the neckline of the top, trying to cover up more of my breasts.
Sally drops her hands and sits back on the bed. “It’s a club full of young people. No one will be dressed like they’re going to church.”
“I don’t dress like I’m going to church every day. I like my clothes,” I say defensively. Yet, reflecting on what’s in my closet, she’s probably right.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. You do have good taste in clothes.” As if sensing my dread, she says, “Look, if you’re not comfortable. I can find another top that’s not so revealing yet still trendy.”
“Speaking of the club. It isn’t a ‘try new things’ experience. We’ve gone to nightclubs before.”
“True, but it is a new club. So technically, it is a ‘try new things’ experience. It’s supposed to be the most popular club in L.A. It’s tickets only and not easy to get into. Jacinta from work gave me her tickets. She can’t go because she had a family emergency out of town this weekend.”
I run my hands over my hips. With generous breasts and round hips, these clothes cling to every curve, making me feel naked. “Do you really think I can pull this off?”
“Hell yes! Those clothes are made for you. You're young and hot. Get out there and enjoy life.”
“Dad would have a fit if he saw me dressed like this.”
“You’re not at work or church, so you can wear whatever you want. It’s not like you’re going to show up to Sunday service dressed like that. You’re a grown woman, capable of making your own choices.”
My choice would be to change into something comfortable and hang out at a coffee shop.
Or put my PJs on and binge watch Bridgerton, but Sally seems so excited about going, and I’d hate to disappoint her.
Still unsure of what to do, I say, “What about Evan?” To my father’s delight, since we first met, we caught up three times.
Twice for coffee and once for dinner. I like him. He’s sweet, funny, and kind.
“Evan isn’t your boyfriend.” Sally rolls her eyes. “What you do in your spare time is your business. It’s not like you’re going out to hook up with a guy tonight—although, you have every right to. Evan is your father’s fantasy, but is he yours?”
Sally is right. Evan is a man my father would love me to settle down with: a good upbringing, great job, and a gentleman.
He’s the perfect match. I do like Evan, and he’s made it clear that he’s interested in me and wants to pursue a relationship.
He’s waiting for me to be on the same page.
He’s everything I could hope for. He’s perfect.
Yet, there’s something holding me back from taking things further.
We haven’t even kissed yet.
Why am I not tempted? Is it because I’m waiting for a spark?
His golden good looks and sweet smile should draw me in. Yet there is another face, one that is dark and far from sweet, whose name is still etched on my skin, that comes to mind. A man so far from my type he shouldn’t be a blip in my thoughts.
That night, I definitely felt a spark. He’s a man whose lips I would have happily kissed. Until he did the dirty on me and told me he’d never tattoo a woman’s name on his body after he dared me to tattoo his name on mine.
Jerk.
A jerk who, with the slightest touch and heated look, set my body on fire. And if I’m honest, when I think about him, still does. He’s someone I’ll never see again. I don’t plan on visiting anymore tattoo shops. Once was enough. I have to push him out of my mind.
Maybe Evan is the right guy and who I should focus my attention on.
Only time will tell. Until then, I’m stepping out of my comfort zone and doing something exciting tonight.
Sure, to most people, a night out at a club isn’t considered wild.
The way I’m dressed, it is for me. For one night, I’d like to not worry about the restrictions of being a pastor’s daughter.
Tonight is about letting go. Trying something new.
I take another look at myself in the mirror.
I can do this, I convince myself.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to Sally. “Okay, let’s go to the club.”
Sally’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “Are you getting changed first?”
“No.”
Her face lights up, then she lets out an excited squeal and bounces on the bed. “Yes! Let’s have some fun.”
***
The pulsing of heavy metal music vibrates from every corner of the club, pounding from the floor and through my feet.
The dark room, lit only by tiny pinprick lights in the ceiling and neon writing on the walls, is filled with people dancing to the noise.
This can’t be music, can it? A metal sign, hung from the ceiling with thick rope, reads, Chains and His Church of Sinners. It’s unlike any church I’ve ever known.
We move further inside, where I accidentally bump into someone. “Oh, sorry.” I turn.
“That’s okay,” the man yells back, holding hands with a petite red-haired woman wearing less than I am. The man gives me a once-over and smiles suggestively. “Hey, sweetheart, wanna join us?” The woman next to him giggles and reaches a hand out to me.
Join them for what? I’m too afraid to ask. I step back before she can touch me and shake my head.
The redhead shrugs and pulls the man’s head down for a long, deep kiss. Without taking a breath, he backs her up against a wall, then disappears behind a thick black curtain. My stomach flips in a confused mix of embarrassment and fascination.
Leaning toward Sally, I shout in her ear, “Where have you taken me?”
“Isn’t it fantastic?” Her smile is as bright as the neon writing on the walls. She dances on the spot as she takes in the club.
Fantastic is not how I’d describe the place. Loud, crowded, and inappropriate. “Where did that couple go? What are they doing?”
Sally shrugs. “Probably having sex.”
What? Did they ask me to join them for sex?
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I swallow hard.
No one has ever approached me like that before.
Underneath the shock, a spark of curiosity stirs deep in my stomach, and that’s when I know this isn’t the place I should be.
This isn’t my world. I’m the kind of woman who follows rules, loves going out for dinner with friends.
Not get propositioned and be unexpectedly intrigued.
“This is not the kind of club we normally go to,” I shout over the music.
“I know, right? It’s so much better.”
“You’ve taken me to a place where people are disappearing behind curtains to have sex. How is that better?”
She laughs. “People are doing this at every club we’ve been to. You’ve just never noticed. Why do you think the bathrooms are occupied all the time?” She pulls a face like I’m clueless.