Luna
I stare at my half-eaten egg bites, poking at them with my fork. I’m not hungry, but I mostly feel like an idiot because of how I acted last night.
Running away like a runaway bride from a man who has done nothing wrong.
I feel like I’ve made a complete fool of myself for no reason.
How am I supposed to meet people and talk to a crowd tonight if I can’t handle a room full of strangers at a club?
Maybe I should call my therapist for an emergency appointment.
I head to my bedroom to grab my phone off the charger on my nightstand, but when I pick it up, my eyes catch the card that Dante gave me at the gym.
I put it on my nightstand, intending to throw it away, but now I’m sure I want to.
Before I freaked out last night, it felt good, being in his arms. It feels good to be desired.
I pick up the card, running my fingers over the raised gold letters.
I should apologize. Dante deserves that after I just ran off with no explanation.
I flip the card over, type the number into my phone, create a contact for him, and open my messages. I stare at my phone, unsure of how to start a message like this:
I chew on my thumb, hit send, and close my phone.
My luck, he’d ignore my message and forget me entirely, but then my phone buzzed, and I saw his name light up my screen. I unlock my phone to read his message:
My heart flutters as I stare at my phone for several moments before thinking of a reply:
What am I saying? Did I want to go on a date with him? Is it a date? No, it’s just drinks. Right? I hit send and throw my phone onto my bed. I chew on my thumb as I wait for him to message me back. My phone buzzes, and I cross the room in a flash to pick it back up:
I bite my lip to keep myself from smiling. It’s just drinks, Luna, calm down.
I check the time, and the clock reads 10 a.m., which gives me plenty of time to prepare for my event tonight.
Instead of calling my therapist, I’ll spend the day doing self-care and mentally preparing myself for tonight.
Sally mentioned doing this for myself in our last session, so this is the perfect excuse to try it.
I walk into my bathroom, pulling down some of my favorite skincare products, and set them on the small shelf beside my mirror for later use. I turn to the shower, adjusting the knobs to set my favorite temperature: scaldingly hot.
Steam starts to fill my bathroom, and the eucalyptus leaves that hang around my shower head remind me of a spa I once treated myself to.
I undress, throwing my clothes in the laundry basket next to the shower, and step into the lava flow from my shower head.
I groan as the water pressure massages my body's sore points. I stand under the flow for several minutes, letting the water wash away my anxious thoughts. “Everything will go as planned tonight, and I will not make a fool of myself, and even if I do, it won’t be the end of the world. You are Luna Stirling. You get back up.” I repeat this a few times before grabbing my shampoo and starting my usual routine.
I shampoo twice, condition, and then move on to my legs.
I clip my hair up. Letting the conditioner soak into my hair, and reach for my razor when I feel that sinking feeling, like I’m being watched again.
My heart sinks as I stand frozen, unsure of what to do.
I grab the curtain's edge and slowly pull it back, peeking my head out cautiously to see if I can see anyone.
Unlike last time, no one’s there, and no eyes are peering through the corner of my stained glass window. It’s just my steam-filled bathroom. I draw the curtain and shake the image from my mind. “No. No, stop thinking about that. You’re just freaking yourself out.”
It’s light outside. You’re safe in here. No one can open the window. You’re safe in here.
My breath hitches as I close my eyes. I place my hands against the wall to anchor myself, allowing the water to wash over my neck and ground me. I let out a few ragged breaths to control my heart rate.
After several breaths, I’m able to regain my composure, and my panic attack subsides. I’ve been getting them most recently since the Peeping Tom incident. It’s almost every time I take a shower. Another thing in my life ruined by a man, how fitting.
The hot water turns cold, bringing me fully back to reality, so I quickly finish my routine, rinsing the conditioner from my hair before getting too cold.
I turn off the water and step out of the shower, grab my robe from the hook on the back of the door, wrap my hair in a towel, and head to my bedroom.
I open my dresser and take out my underwear—a simple pair of nude seamless hipsters and a sports bra.
I slip off my robe and let my hair down.
I dry the rest of my body with the towel, then put on my panties and bra.
Like usual, I admire myself in my floor-length mirror in my room and decide to self-tan before tonight.
The dress I bought for tonight has a slit in the front that runs clear up to my hip.
I go back to the bathroom, open the cabinet above the sink, take out my self-tanner and mitt, and gather the rest of my skincare products.
I return to my room, placing everything on my dresser, and start my skincare routine.
I moisturize from head to toe with various lotions and potions before I begin tanning.
I’m applying the last bit of tanning foam when I hear my phone buzz.
I set my tanning mitt down, walk over to my nightstand, and pick up my phone.
I had hoped Dante was sending me a message, but it turned out to be just a text reminder that my dress is ready for pickup at the dry cleaners.
“Right. The cleaners.” I check the time —it’s a little after noon.
Once my tan sets, I’ll get dressed and head to the cleaners.
I'll walk there, and by the time I return, it will be time to wash off the tan and get ready for tonight.
Honestly, the timing is perfect. It's a warm day, and I want to soak up the last of the summer heat before my seasonal depression hits. The fresh air will do me good.
I pull the last Velcro roller from my hair, run my fingers through it, fluff the soft curls, and smooth them down.
I grab my lip gloss and stipple a bit over my red lipstick.
I opted for a smoky eye tonight, using various shades of brown instead of black and gray.
I wanted a soft look to complement my dress because it’s so beautiful and deserves its moment.
Self-tanning was a smart move. I look so fucking hot.
The dress is the same wrap style as last night's, but this one is made of dark navy blue silk.
It has a high-low silhouette, a sweetheart neckline, and thin spaghetti straps.
It slips on effortlessly, fitting perfectly to every curve, just as the other one does.
I smooth my hands over the dress, admiring myself a bit more.
I check over to my nightstand before leaving. I double-tap my phone to check the time. The screen lights up, and the clock reads 7:30 p.m. “Shoot. I need to hurry up.”
I hurry to my closet, slipping on the black strappy heels I wore last night, and grabbing my leather jacket. After putting it on, I take my phone, turn off the lights in my apartment, and head to the kitchen to feed Binx.
I open a can of one of his favorites, and he comes running from wherever he’s been hiding.
“Hi, sweet boy. You be good tonight. Mama will be out late, so you can go to bed early, okay? I love you.” I give him some pets as he scarfs down his food, then turn to get my keys and stuff my phone in my purse.
I leave the kitchen light on for when I come home later, and shut the door behind me.
I hurry down to the parking garage in my apartment's basement, taking the three flights of steps down. I’m already running late and don’t want to fall further behind.
The echo of my heels in the stairwell reminds me of a scene in my first book where Vera is running away from the apartment of the first man she’s just murdered.
I point out in the passage how her heels sound like a clock ticking, because Vera’s running out of time to get out of the building before the cameras she’s cut come back on.
I channel the adrenaline from that scene and pick up the pace on the last flight, and push through the exit door, my car parked in its usual spot.
I hop in the driver's seat, slide the key into the ignition, and start my car. I pull my phone out of my purse, text Olivia that I’m on my way, and back out of my spot.
I arrive at Spines & Steins with ten minutes to spare. I parked in the back parking lot and met Olivia at the alleyway door.
“Oh my god! Look at you! Holy fuck!” Olivia’s mouth hangs open, staring at me. “That color looks so good on you. I don’t know if I want to be you or fuck you.”
I laugh. “You look good, too, Liv.” I wink at her as I slip past, and now it’s my turn for my jaw to drop. “Is this real?” My attention shifts to the front of the store, where a crowd waits to get in to see me.
Olivia closes the side door, locking it behind her, and joins me at my side. “The rest of the tickets sold out this morning. I’m glad I ordered more special editions because I believe I will be selling out tonight, too.”
“Holy shit, Liv. That’s—” My knees wobble slightly, the room spinning a bit, and I suddenly feel light-headed. “I think I need to sit down.”
Olivia grabs my arm, guiding me, and sits me in her office.
“Stay here and take a moment to calm down. I know it’s a lot, but you deserve this, Luna.
You’re a brilliant woman who has overcome so much, and it’s time you’re celebrated like you ought to be.
” She brushes a stray hair from my face.
“I’m going to let everyone in now, get them settled, and then introduce you. Okay?”
I rest my head against Olivia’s. “What would I do without you?”