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“Fine,” I mumble. “Onedrink.”
She squeals. “Excellent! I’ve already set out a dress for you. One of mine because your clothes are, um, sad.”
“What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Babe, you dress like a fucking nun. Ain’t nobody gonna wanna hit on you when your shortest dress cuts off at the calf.”
“I dress sensibly,” I argue.
“You dress like a prude.”
I sigh. “Let me just call my dad, then I’ll get changed, okay?”
Taylor claps her hands. “This is going to be so much fun. My friend from Pilates got us onto the VIP list at Sensational.”
“That really fancy club downtown?”
“Hell yeah!”
“You know they charge, like, ten bucks for a bottle of water, right?”
Taylor winks. “Like I said. I think I’ve found my whale. Don’t worry about the price. Tonight is all about letting loose. Now, get to it and change!”
“Okay, okay,” I murmur, shuffling down the hall toward my room. “And put your dildos away!”
My room is my haven. A mini library of sorts. My headboard is actually a shelf I put together, square cubbies perfect for my ever-growing collection of pretty hardcovers and paperbacks. The room itself is cramped and small, but there’s still plenty of space for a small desk in the corner and the walnut wardrobe just opposite.
On the bed, I find the dress Taylor laid out for me. It’s totally not my style —an obscenely short fluorescent pink number with cutouts at the sides to expose my ribs and the dip of my waist. She’s even loaned me a pair of her black suede thigh-highs, which are resting at the foot of my bed.
“Are you trying to make me look like a hooker?” I call out to Taylor.
She cackles from the other end of the apartment. “Trust me, babe. This is what all the cool kids are wearing.”
“I don’t believe you,” I grumble under my breath, but start to get dressed anyway.
As I slip out of the only business suit I own that I wore to my interview, I pull out my phone to call Dad. He doesn’t answer, but I leave a message. “Hey, Dad! Just wanted to call to check in. I know you’ve been super busy trying to organize your new movie, so I won’t bother you too much. Taylor’s dragging me out tonight. If I miss your call that’s probably why. Anyways, reach out when you can. Don’t work too hard, and please remember to take your medication. Love you!”
I’m a little disappointed that I can’t seem to catch my dad at a good time. He sends texts every now and again, but he gets so wrapped up in his work sometimes that he forgets entirely. He keeps promising me that this film is going to be it —his big comeback. I want nothing more than to see Dad succeed. He was —is— a brilliant director, and I don’t know anyone with as much of a passion and drive for movies as he.
But that doesn’t stop the doubt from creeping in.
He was supposed to have his big comeback six movies ago. Things just haven’t been the same since Mom left him. It’s like he used up all his luck in the divorce and ensuing custody battle, though I don’t consider myself a particularly worthy prize. Mom made away with more than half of his assets and fucked off to God knows where.
I silently pray that the powers that be give my dear father a damn break. He deserves one, and I’m not just saying that because I’m biased.
After knocking at my door. Taylor lets herself in, whistling at me as she gives me a once over. “Hot as fuck,” she says with a grin.
“I feel like I’m accidentally going to flash someone in this thing.”
“Tits or ass?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe that’s the point.”
A sudden wave of self-consciousness washes over me. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, Tay.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud. Here.” Taylor walks over and places her hand on my back, adjusting my posture like I’m some sort of mannequin. “Shoulders back, tits out, head held high. This is my lucky dress, you know. I guarantee you’ll walk out of that club tonight with at least twenty different numbers.”
