“I said no.”
He kept grinning. “You got a new partner now.”
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.
These guys.
* * * * *
I wore a little black dress to the party.
And it was little.
It seemed like a good idea at the time, before the flowers, before my freak out, when I was in a happy birthday daze.
It wasn’t a good idea now.
I’d gone home from training, packed a backpack (better for the Harley), showered, done the whole makeup and hair bit. Subtle makeup, it was all I knew how to do and my hair was up in a messy twist, which I didn’t know how to do but luckily, after five tries, it worked.
During the mall extravaganza as birthday presents Roxie bought me this lotion that made my legs look shiny and ultra-smooth. Jet had given me three kinds of flavored lip gloss (I’d made the mistake of telling her about Vance’s “you smell of melons and taste of cherries” comment and she got a bit overexcited), bubble gum, grape and of course cherry (I went with grape for the evening).
My dress was clingy black jersey, to the knee, halter-necked, the front fell in a drape, low on my cle**age, the back also had a drape, super-low, exposing most of the small of my back. My shoes were spike-heeled, pointed-toe, open sides but with a full back and a thick strap across the very top of my foot, just under the ankle.
I went with bare (Roxie-lotion-shiny) legs, my new bracelet on my wrist and Auntie Reba’s diamond at my neck.
I was filling Boo’s food bowl, telling him he had to be a good kitty until I got home the next day when Vance walked in the backdoor.
I straightened and stared at him.
Hair back, leather jacket, black cowboy boots, thick black belt with a heavy silver buckle, jeans and a crisp shirt with subtle stripes of wine, navy, midnight and charcoal patterned into it. The shirt was opened at the throat.
At the sight of him my mouth went dry.
“You gonna be able to ride on the Harley in that?” he asked.
I decided a snotty, “Well, hello to you too,” was no longer in order. I wasn’t sure, as I’d had no experience but I figured I’d lost the right to bicker when I told him we had to stop seeing each other.
I also decided to ignore the clench in my gut that he didn’t rush me against the counter and kiss me like last time.
“It’s stretchy,” I answered.
His eyes moved the length of me then came back to mine. I couldn’t read them.
“Get a jacket,” he replied. “Where’s your bag?”
I put on my black leather blazer and the backpack and we rode to Fortnum’s.
The lights were blazing in Fortnum’s windows and I could see the place was already packed. I was a little shocked; they’d only planned the party the night before and spent most of the afternoon with me at the mall and the Shelter.
I hopped off the back of the bike, rearranged my skirt and then Vance slid the backpack down an arm. I whirled with it as he pulled it off the other side and I ended up facing him. He threw it over one of his shoulders.
I looked up at him. His face was blank. My stomach had decided to settle into a permanent, painful twist.
I turned away, biting my lip and feeling the weight in my chest that threatened tears.
The sooner we got in there, the sooner the party would be over, the sooner the night would be over, the sooner I could face whatever challenge the next day brought.
Or move to Nicaragua.