“What just happened was, just like I said, Crowe’s offerin’ you a life. If you’re smart, which I know you are, you’re gonna reach out and grab it.”
Then she was gone too.
Chapter Eight
You Like Bikes?
“She needs more sparkle,” Daisy announced and I could see her out of the corners of my eyes to which Jet was applying shadow. Daisy had her hands on her h*ps and she was staring at me assessingly and I could tell she did not like what she saw.
“She doesn’t need any sparkle. She’s going on a date with Vance, not ballroom dancing at The Ritz,” Indy returned, standing beside me and holding a curling iron in my hair.
“Tod, she needs sparkle. Every girl needs sparkle. Find some goddamned sparkle, comprende?” Daisy ordered, ignoring Indy.
The gang had descended on my house about five minutes after I arrived home from the Shelter. They came in carrying hangers full of clothes, curling irons, hairdryers, cosmetics bags stuffed with makeup, accessories and boxes of shoes.
They had two g*y men in tow. One, Tod, was a tall, lean, effeminate white man with a brown crew cut. The other, Stevie, was shorter, more butch, handsome and Hispanic. Tod, they told me, was Denver’s top drag queen, his alter ego known as Burgundy Rose. Stevie, they also told me, was his long-suffering but, nevertheless, obviously loving partner.
“Sparkle,” Tod muttered, digging through piles of clothes, belts, scarves and shoes, “gotcha.”
“I’m not sure about sparkle,” I whispered to Jet.
“Don’t worry,” Jet replied with a small smile to me then she glanced worriedly at Indy.
I figured this worried glance was not good. Really not good. The butterflies in my stomach started fluttering and not in a good Vance-said-or-did-something-sexy way but in an oh-my-God-get-me-out-of-here way.
Roxie was sitting on my couch drinking a margarita Boo in her lap. His yellow eyes were closed and she was stroking him full body.
He was in heaven. I was in hell.
“We already decided. She’s wearing the black,” Roxie put in.
“You decided,” Daisy returned. “Black is boring. I think we should do the sequins.”
My eyes swung to May who was lounging in my chaise. She lifted her margarita glass at me and winked.
“Daisy, give it up. No sequins for God’s sake. This is Denver not the f**king Oscars. Talk to Jules about Vance popping her cherry,” Ally ordered. She and Stevie were re-hanging clothes that Tod was tearing off hangers.
At Ally’s comment I sucked in breath and I think I experienced a heart palpitation.
“Ally Nightingale. Don’t be crass. You’ve scared the poor girlie to death,” Tod admonished and Ally threw him a look.
“I think you should just tell him you’re a virgin,” Jet suggested. “He’ll understand and be gentle.”
“Oh. My. God. Do not, whatever you do, tell him you’re a virgin,” Daisy sat down next to Roxie on the side of the couch which was closest to the armchair I was sitting in and she leaned into me, full-on cle**age hanging over the arm of the couch. “Go with the flow,” she advised. “He does something you like; you do it back to him. You want to touch him or use your mouth on him, just do it. Whatever you do, he’ll like it. Men aren’t very discerning. All that touching stuff just gets in the way of the real thing. He won’t care, long as he gets some.”
“Daisy, that’s just not true,” Roxie put in. “Men like foreplay just as much as women.” Stevie made a noise and Roxie turned to him. “Don’t they?” she asked.
“Don’t look at me. I’m not getting into it,” Stevie said.
“Stevie –” Roxie started but he shook his head.
“You two’ve been foolin’ around. He seem to notice you don’t know what you’re doin’?” Daisy asked me.
“Um,” I mumbled, my eyes sliding again to May.
May just sucked back more of her margarita.
“Don’t do that,” Jet said to my eye slide. “I’ve got to do your mascara. Wide eyes, open mouth, look up,” Jet demanded and I did as I was told.