“Thank you.” Dallas takes both phones and hands them to me.
“And the other packages you requested, Mr. Wilder.” The manager gestures to two desk clerks, who walk toward us with two large white boxes. They hand one to Sadie and one to me.
“What’s this?” Sadie asks.
“Just a little something for New York,” Dallas says. “It’s colder up there. I thought the two of you might need another layer for our arrival.”
Sadie opens her box and pulls out a black soft-suede bomber jacket. “Oh my god. This isRalph Lauren.” She puts it on and it not only perfectly complements her outfit but makes her look even more like a movie star. “This is mydreamjacket.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Dallas is watching me. “Open yours, Amelie.”
Inside is the most beautiful coat I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s fawn-colored suede, so soft it feels like velvet, with fur trim. It’s long, with a belt of the same material. Dallas helps me put the coat on. With the dress and now the coat, I feel like, all this time, I was curled up inside a chrysalis that never allowed me to bloom—and now, in these luxurious clothes, I’m a butterfly who’s finally been given enough room to spread her wings. “Dallas. It’s so beautiful.”
He kisses me more lustily than the scene would usually allow, as though at least four other peoplearen’tstanding there watching us alertly. Like he doesn’t care about them at all, only me. “Youare beautiful.”
“I love it. Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure.” He gives the hotel manager a black credit card, which the manager swipes across an iPad.
I can’t even think about the numbers.
The limo driver takes Sadie’s bag and offers her a glass of champagne. She accepts it and I slide in next to her, declining my glass. Angel’s poison or not, it still got me into more than enough trouble over the weekend. I’m sticking with water from here on in.
“I could get used to this lifestylerealquick,” Sadie comments happily, clinking her glass against mine, sipping her champagne.
Dallas finishes settling the bill and climbs into the limo, sitting next to me.
The driver seals us in and goes around to the driver’s seatand we pull out of the courtyard, onto the street. There’s no mention of going back to my room to retrieve my pills or anything else. I’m assuming they have clinics, Plan Bs and all manner of dealing with whatever we need to deal with in New York. They’re one of those blue states, after all, who fight for rights like that—and thank God someone does. I’m sure they’ll be able to help me.
Either way, I already know what decision I’d make, whether he’s true to his word or not.
It would have his turquoise eyes. I bet it would.
Dallas’s warm, solid thigh is flush against mine. He weaves my fingers through his.
None of this escapes Sadie’s attention and she beams at me impishly before launching into the complicated backstory of the audition she managed to land and has to rush off to as soon as we arrive in New York.
“That’s amazing, Sade.”
“I know, right? Itotallymanifested it. Good things are happening, I can feel it.”
I tune in and out of her excitable monologue. Dallas listens, amused.
“… it’s this small modern dance company with studios in both Hell’s KitchenandWilliamsburg and they absolutelylovedthe video I sent them, of the show I was in last month …”
I’m sure it’s fine. My cycle isn’t particularly regular, so maybe it couldn’t happen right now anyway. I’m always stressed, rushing around, trying to burn the proverbial candle at both ends. I eat leftover grits but sometimes our customers eat the entire day’s supply and I go to bedhungry. I know my lifestyle affects my cycle. I’ve never lost sleep over it. By the time my head hits the pillow, I’m too tired.
I always figured things would eventually get better. That I could, in time, sell some paintings and rent a room—a real one. I could quit the housekeeping job and use that time to paint. I could start to make a name for myself. Once I do, I might even make enough money to actually save some of it.
“… all I know is that I’m going to go in there and wow the pants off the whole company. I’ve been practicing this new dance that I choreographed with my friend Joseph, who’s, like,sotalented …”
Until then, it’s obvious that I’m in no position to have ababy, no matter how manyI’ll-take-care-of-youshe tossed in my general direction during the heat of an admittedly-beautiful series of moments.
A girl can’t live on promises, that much I do know. Believe me, I’ve tried.
Idowant to have babies. One day. Lots of them.
I always hated being an only child. I used to play elaborate games with my long list of imaginary friends when I was very young, rambling around in that old hotel, hiding in all the familiar nooks and crannies no one else knew about, pretending I wasn’t so alone.
