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Her car is nice, by my standards, but the car in front of us is a Maserati.
“Umm…” I’m not sure how to answer. On one hand, yes I want to get out now, so I can pretend I also drove here in a luxury vehicle worth more than my entire existence. On the other hand, I don’t want to walk all the way to the front door from here in my new shoes.
I wiggle my toes inside my high heels, already feeling the pinch since they’re too narrow.
Weighing the options, I decide that my feet are going to be killing me no matter what, so I might as well save myself the humiliation of arriving in an Uber.
“I’ll get out here.”
“Alright!” She doesn’t even ask if I’m sure, clearly happy to be rid of me and go pick up a new rider.
The second I open the door, my bare legs are greeted with chilled air.
Hunching my shoulders against the cold, I add a tip for my driver on the app, then stick my phone in my little clutch, pointedly ignoring the amount of money I’ve dropped on today. But this is the last expense, because hopefully Nero will give me a ride home. And hopefully this party has an open bar.
Starting up the long stretch of sidewalk, I keep my gaze ahead of me, not looking at the tinted windows of the vehicles as I walk past.
I can’t spare the energy to worry about what they might think of me, I’m nervous enough as it is, walking into Nero’s party.
I really wish he’d just talked to me about it, so we could arrive together. But maybe he was…embarrassed?Although it doesn’t seem like the right word. I can’t picture Nero embarrassed. But this might all be as new for him as it is for me. Obviously not the sex part, but maybe the relationship part.
As I near the steps leading up to the front of the building, I fall in step behind a glamourous couple.
The man is dressed in a tuxedo, but the woman is in a short red dress, giving me a sense of relief.
After finding the invite this morning, I caught the bus and went back to Marshall’s. When I was there yesterday, an amazing black sequined dress caught my eye. It was shorter than I’d usually dare to wear, had a deep-V neckline, and long sleeves. Just for fun I tried it on, when I was looking for my concert outfit. And even though it was tighter than I’d thought, the fitted material was flattering––the nonstop sequins worked to hide the lumps of my hips and belly. But I had zero reason to buy it, so I hung it back up and walked away.
Luckily, it was still there today. So I bought it. Just like I bought these god-awful ice blue pumps. They’re super pretty, and they perfectly match the little clutch purse I found, but I swear my feet are already bleeding.
Climbing the steps, I resist the urge to wince as much as I resist the urge to tug on my hem. I can’t think about how short the dress is, or I’ll break out into a nervous sweat.
On the ride over, I started to worry that maybe I should’ve gone with something long, like a gown––not that I would’ve known where to look for one of those––but the dress on the woman in front of me is even shorter than mine.
I still have plenty to worry about this evening, but at least I don’t have to worry about my hemline.
At the top of the steps, there are six men dressed in matching jackets withNero’sembroidered on the front. This must be part of the security team. Makes sense that Nero would use his own company for his party, but six guys? That seems like overkill.
Mobsters.
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.
Is this party going to be full of men like Nero? Dangerous ones?
“Invitation?” A deep voice snaps my attention to the right.
A man the size of a house holds his hand out for me.
“Oh, yes. One second.” I try to smile, but I’m suddenly terrified. I just want to get inside and find Nero. I know I’ll feel better when I’m at his side.
I tip my head down as I open my clutch, and my hair slides over my shoulder, falling into my face.
I opted to leave it down in waves tonight, and I’ll be happy to use it as a shield later, but my shaky fingers are having trouble enough with pulling the invitation out of my bag without the obstruction to my view.
Shaking my hair out of the way, I push aside my phone and lip gloss and pull the invitation free.
A slight embarrassment warms my cheeks when I have to unfold the invite, since it was too big to fit in my little purse. I hated bending it, but I’m glad I did. Because I almost left it at home and being turned away now might kill me.
He takes it from me, scanning it for a second before giving me the same treatment and furrowing his brows. “You here alone?”
