Our relationship has evolved a million years over.
When Shyla is done with my neck, she moves up to my face. “You need some here, too.” She dabs under my eyes, and down my nose, then across my forehead.
“Am I more acceptable now?” I gaze at her vacantly. I’m suddenly so tired.
“Mmm?” She studies me cutely. “Not quite.” She dives back into her purse and pulls out a black compact and fluffy brush. “A little bronzer won’t hurt.” She swipes the powder across my cheeks.
“Better?” I ask dryly.
“Maybe just a little lip gloss, too.” She whips out a pink tube and slathers up my lips. The goop tastes a little like toasted marshmallows.
I look toward the front seat where Sable is watching.
“How ’bout now?” I cock my head.
“Definitely not worse.” She laughs.
I stick my tongue out at her.
I watch the buildings whiz by as we fly down the backroads. This driver is most definitely an LA native. He knows side streets I couldn’t daydream existed.
The scenery quickly changes from commercial storefronts and busy restaurants to high rises and business districts. Soon we’re pulling up to the lobby of a shiny building that looks like every other hotel I’ve ever stayed in.
We make our way through the cold, modern lobby and to the elevators, with Sable leading the way.
“You sure you know where you’re going?” Shyla sounds skeptical.
“Blaine texted me the instructions. Take the lobby elevators to the eighth floor. He’ll be waiting for us.” She hits the number eight on the keypad, and we all anticipate what we will find when the doors open.
“If it’s a complete dump, we’ll just find a corner and hide. No pictures. We were never here,” Sable stipulates. “Or, we’ll just blame Liv for the poor pick.”
“Because, why not?” I roll my eyes and shake my head. Seriously, the ego on these two sometimes.
The elevator doors ding open, and Shyla and Sable hold their breath.
What we find on the other side, none of us were expecting.
We walk outside to a garden oasis and a smiling man dressed in a white linen shirt and black pants.
“Ladies, welcome,” he greets us warmly and professionally, with a hint of an accent. Spanish, maybe.
“Blaine,” Sable draws out his name as she kisses him hello on the cheek.
When she steps back, Blaine eyes her from head to toe. Making it more than obvious how into her he is.
“I have a table waiting for you.” He motions with his hand, and all three of us follow as he leads the way through the park-like surroundings. There are manicured trees above our heads and vibrant green grass below our feet lining the walkway to a private table in the shade.
“This is lovely,” Sable gives Blaine her seal of approval.
“I hoped you would like it.” He pulls her chair out with lusty, hooded green eyes.
Sable could definitely do worse. Blaine is gorgeous and polite. He even pulled out mine and Shyla’s chairs.
“I have complimentary mimosas coming out, and I am going to take care of you personally.” His sultry voice has all three of us swooning.
“That’s perfect, thank you.” Sable turns up her megawatt smile. I don’t think Blaine’s attraction is one-sided. Hell, I might even be crushing on him a little bit.
“I’ll give you some time to look at the menu. May I recommend the blueberry muffin cloud? Very delicious and low carb.”
