9. Chapter 9
A licia stood in front of her mirror, in awe of how expensive she suddenly looked.
“Damn, mama,” came a whistle from the doorway. Candice appeared, nodding in appreciation. “Look at you! Who knew that Barney’s could be so sexy!”
Indeed. When Alicia received the dress that morning, hemmed by the professional on-site seamstress, she was in awe that it had come out so well.
Instead of plummeting to her ankles, the skirt hugged her legs above her knees, showing off her sturdy calves and, yes, what little ass she had.
It also managed to give glimpses of her breasts without being garish.
Since she didn’t have any expensive jewelry, though, she struggled to decide how to accessorize.
She wasn’t as lost as she was with her hair, though.
Candice had seen the pictures and agreed that it was absurd. She also took one look at the video demonstrating how to recreate the look and laughed into the back of her hand. “Girl, I’ve got you covered. I do hair on sets all the time. I work well in a pinch.”
Alicia glared at her. “I don’t want porn star hair.”
“Why not? They have some of the best-looking hair! Besides, would you rather have the Leaning Tower of Pisa sculpted onto your head?”
“Well, no.”
“Then sit your sexy ass down. I want you to remember me as only helpful when you’re Mrs. Moreau and delegating your wife’s assets to your poor friends.”
“It’s not like…”
“Joke! It’s a joke!” Candice threaded her fingers through Alicia’s hair. “We’re going to make you so pretty, girl!”
Alicia had to admit that she liked Candice’s look for her a lot more.
One tight bun mounted the top of her head, decorated with pins topped in cubic zirconia – it would have to work on their last-minute budget.
Besides, what were the odds that Danica would even notice?
Like… one in a thousand? She would be too busy staring at these tits!
“By the way, you need this.” Candice handed her a piece of lined paper, neatly folded into a paper crane. “It’s your list of demands for when she asks you to be her prized escort.”
Alicia spiked the crane on the bedroom floor, as if she were in the worst end zone in the world, but still expected to react for the spectators.
“Whoa. What was that for?”
Enough was enough. Seriously. “It was kinda funny at first, but now I’m sick of everyone acting like I’m going to become this woman’s sugar baby. For one, we don’t know what her real motives are for dating me.”
“Alicia, the fact that you use the word motives…”
“Second, I don’t even know how I feel about this situation.
I barely know this woman. All I know is that she is mega-rich and good at sex.
Put those two things aside, and she’s kind of a jerk.
Okay, a really big jerk.” Everything was about her .
Everything was on her terms. A girl could only take so much of that.
I had enough of it with Matt . Never again.
A woman couldn’t follow the whims and needs of a partner without getting some consideration in turn.
“It’s one thing to get that kind of treatment from total strangers.
I don’t need you pushing this idea onto me, too.
I’m going on a date. A regular date with a regular woman.
So what if she paid for me to come dressed in Barney’s? ”
“Yeah, girl. So what?” Candice shook her head. “Regular date? Regular woman? Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but you need to understand that Danica Moreau is no regular woman! She’s coming to pick you up in her limo, for fuck’s sake.”
“Yes. She’s coming to pick me up. She’s not sending a car to come pick me up à la carte to be delivered for her sexual dessert. She asked me out on a date, and by fucking hell we’re going on a date! It’s the least she could do after making me lose my job.”
“Pretty sure she didn’t make you do anything, Al. Unless there’s some pivotal information you left out.”
“Don’t you dare.” Alicia turned back to the mirror, forcing a calm demeanor as she smoothed down her dress and plucked errant hairs from her scalp. “Danica has been nothing but a lady. Her own brand of lady, but a lady, nonetheless, in that regard.”
She could practically hear the eyes rolling behind her.
“If you say so, Al. Keep in mind that she is her own brand of lady. You’ve never dated a woman like this before.
Hell, I would barely know what to do, and I rub elbows with some millionaires once in a while.
” Candice chuckled. “No, seriously, though. Take the paper. Like how I have no idea what’s going to happen, neither do you.
This could be a normal date, like you keep saying. Or…”
Alicia glanced at her friend’s reflection in the mirror. “Or what?”
She didn’t get a response. The doorbell rang.
Shit, was that her? Like Danica came into Alicia’s place of work, had she come straight to her door?
Alicia’s heart fluttered as she ran from the bedroom, her movement unrestricted with the generous flow of her skirt.
I really feel like it’s prom now! Alicia double-checked herself in the hall mirror before putting her hand on the front doorknob and turning.
It was not Danica.
“Good evening, Ms. Colbert,” greeted the somber limo driver. “Ms. Moreau’s car awaits downstairs, right on time.”
Candice approached from behind, carrying a faux-fur half coat from her own closet.
Alicia wordlessly shrugged into it and also accepted her black clutch.
Do I look expensive? That’s what she wanted to ask, but didn’t dare.
“Thanks.” She tried to mask the disappointment in her voice.
Why hadn’t Danica greeted her like a date should have?
Something slipped into her coat pocket. It was Candice’s hand. “Have fun, hon,” she said. “Remember your self-respect this time.”
“Yeah, yeah. Got it.” Alicia sighed. “Bye. I’ll text whether I’m coming home.”
Candice’s eyebrows went up. The driver did not react. Nobody in Danica’s employment reacted to anything.
The driver escorted her downstairs, where a small crowd gathered around the limousine.
Wow. It’s the nice one from the other day .
People in denim shorts and tank tops took pictures with their phones while the driver opened the back door.
No wonder Danica didn’t want to get out and risk the undue exposure.
Surely, she was inside, right? Come to greet her beautiful date?
Alicia was all smiles as she thanked the driver and hopped inside. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the darkness within, but there were two things she quickly noticed.
One, that freakin’ perfume. Two… she was alone.
Alicia looked around in disbelief. The divider was down between the back of the limo and the front seat, where the driver situated himself and started the car. “Where’s Danica?”
He glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
“Ms. Moreau will be waiting for us at the destination.” For the briefest moment, his brows curved downward, almost in regret.
“Her fundraiser this afternoon ran over, ma’am.
She wanted to come see you herself, but asked me to get you so you’d still be on time.
Please, allow me to drive you to the Magistrate’s Ballroom. ”
Alicia vaguely knew what and where that was. Somewhere downtown, of course. “Go on,” she said. The windows may have been tinted, but she felt the crowds gathering. “Might be a good idea to get out of here while the roads still aren’t blocked.”
She received the smallest hint of a smile. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
The Magistrate’s Ballroom was indeed in the middle of downtown.
No wonder Alicia never paid it any attention before now.
Looks like the kind of place boring business is done.
Yet another glass-faced skyscraper overlooking the river as it meandered through the CBD.
Magistrate Tower harkened back to the colonial days, didn’t it?
Perhaps some old British magistrate had his residence here.
Or maybe an office. Was there a plaque somewhere that Alicia could read?
Yet the Tower was more than it seemed. The moment she entered the lobby, she was transported to a different world.
Sure, there was the receptionist’s desk, plenty of security patrolling the perimeter, and elevators taking workers and clients alike to proper offices…
but the back of the lobby boasted a large sign that pointed the way to the Magistrate’s Ballroom.
“The Fellowship Fundraiser,” an attached sign said. “From Noon to Four.”
Well, it was six now. There were still people in suits and designer dresses milling about the lobby, sipping champagne and complaining about this and that. When they weren’t kissing ass, anyway.
Alicia stood on the edge, wishing she had kept the long skirt on her dress. She would have fit in a lot more, but at least people weren’t side-eying her. If she had shown up in one of her mere department store outfits, someone would have called her for what she was: a phony.
What’s the Fellowship? She politely stared at the sign while waiting for Danica to appear.
Wherever she was. There were so many tuxedos in the ballroom lobby that they blended into one another.
Obviously, Danica was not one of the few blond women milling about.
She probably was not a short woman or one of the ridiculously tall supermodel types.
Still, looking for a roguishly gorgeous woman with black hair was not easy.
Such a description brought her a dozen for every dime she was willing to spend.