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The hostess appeared as speechless as I was, but she recovered quicker. “Of course. Right this way.” She turned and headed into the lounge.
Wow. Somehow this hot Nascar driver or whatever he was had so much currency with her that it totally negated my lack thereof. I wondered, as I shuffled along behind her in my slippers, if it was his looks or his money that had her so agreeable.
Both.
“How is this?” she said sweetly, presenting us with a table in the middle of the lounge and gazing at the man behind me like I wasn’t there.
“We’ll take that one,” said Mr. Gorgeous and Bossy.
“Of course.” She rushed to escort us over to the one he’d pointed out in a dark corner. She pulled out our chairs while avoiding looking at me, left us with a menu and elegantly disappeared.
I glanced at him. He seemed to be waiting for me to sit down before he took his seat. How far was he planning to take this hero thing?
“Uh, thank you. But I’d never expect a hot race car driver like yourself to sit with me. Especially looking like… this.”
“Why not?” He smirked faintly. “I mean, you do have a little something, right here…” He made a little circle in the air in front of his gorgeous face with his finger.
Okay, I was way too flustered to deal with his level of hotness right now. I wouldn’t know how to exchange witty banter with this guy if someone handed me a script. If he asked me to sit on his face instead of the chair, I’d seriously consider it. And something about him said that he might, just to see what I’d do.
Dangerous.
I broke eye contact, because I was way out-matched here. “Thank you. But obviously I need to clean up. Have a nice night. Um, thanks.”
Stop thanking him. You sound desperate.
Then I shuffled off in my soggy slippers in search of the ladies’ room, floored that the last five minutes of my life had actually happened.
Thanks, Mom. Thanks a lot.
I pushed through the door into the beautiful washroom, shuffled to a mirror and exhaled. I’d never been so mad at my mother in my life. We’d made such a stupid scene, arguing in the salon in front of all the staff. I’d stormed out likeIwas the difficult one, and now look at me.
The lashing rain and my hair whipping around me had somehow scribbled mascara and lipstick all over my face. I looked like I’d been graffitied. I was a grown woman, and I’d let the makeup artist Mom hired slather on way more makeup than I’d ever wear. As I set about peeling off the false eyelashes and washing off as much of it as I could, I tried to ignore the other women who came and went, hoping they’d just ignore me too. I didn’t really want to talk to anyone right now.
Shit, I couldn’t believe I’d talked to that smoldering hottie looking like this. He had like, dewy, sexy rain drops in his hair and on his sharp blazer. And I looked like I’d been swallowed by a hurricane and spit back out. The hair stylist hadn’t even finished curling my hair, so the left side was twisted up in clips that were now falling out.Jesus.I looked like a nutcase. Who walked into a nice bar looking like this?
This weirdo.
It was official. My mother had driven me insane.
Congratulations, Margot. You finally did it.
I plucked the clips out, stuffing them into my purse and tussling my hair so maybe the whole thing would look intentionally messy-cute? Nope. Just looked crazy. I hadn’t cut my blondish hair in a while, so Mom had paid for the cut that she’d insisted on today. It was too short, cut above my shoulders, shorter in the back and longer in the front. It wasn’t me.
I tried to tuck it behind my ears and smooth it down a bit. Sort of helped.
But I still didn’t look like I belonged in this upscale bar. More like in my hotel room eating Cheetos out of the bag.Dare to dream.Probably what I should’ve just done tonight.
I sighed and tackled the slipper issue, plucking the soggy wads of tissue from between my toes and trashing them. Then I took off each slipper and dried it with the hand dryer. They were nice and warm when I slipped my feet back into them and I actually felt one percent better.
Then I remembered where I was. And where I was supposed to be.
I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my cousin, Danica.Where are you guys?? I need backup! Margot is already going bridezilla and they haven’t even set a wedding date yet!I really couldn’t handle my mom’s mile-high expectations and her snooty fancy engagement party tonight without my wingladies.
And a few stiff drinks.
According to my phone, Mom had already tried calling me twice since I left the salon.
Well, I’d be coming to her party when I was ready, looking however I wanted to look. Maybe I’d make her sweat just a bit.
