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I shed my leggings, putting on a short black skirt instead, with lacy black thigh-highs. I put my heeled black boots back on, and found my black, leather jacket in the closet. I was ready for some fun.
I was still upstairs primping when I heard a knock on my bedroom door.
“Lindsey?”
It was Mom.
“Come on in,” I called out to her, putting my small make-up bag in my purse.
“Honey, Darcy is here for you. Are you going out tonight?”
“Oh yeah, Mom. You know, you guys have company and all. Darcy and I are just going to a dance club or two.”
“Lindsey,” she said, getting her “mom” tone on, “you aren’t old enough to be in those clubs.”
“Oh, come on, Mom. I didn’t say I was drinking. It’s a social thing.”
I could tell that she still was not comfortable with it. She needed to let it go. I was in college and entitled to my own social life. I certainly wasn’t going to wait until I was thirty-five years old to get one.
I brushed past her and headed down the stairs to where Darcy was waiting for me by the front door. She was dressed in a short leather skirt with a matching jacket.
Damn!
Apparently, the company had moved into the living room.
Right away I noticed Taz scoping me out. His eyes perused my body from top to bottom, and then back up again.
“It was nice meeting you, Roxie,” I called out to her as I buttoned up my jacket. “Taz, always a pleasure,” I lied, giving him a brief glance.
“Nice meetin’ you too, hon,” Roxie said giving me a smile. Taz simply nodded.
Slate was looking past me to where Mom was standing, giving her one of those, “where the hell is she going?” looks.
What the hell ever.
“See you in the morning, Mom. I’ll be late.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I gave Darcy “the look” which she knew to mean, “Let’s roll.”
Once we got out to Darcy’s sporty little BMW, she was all giggles.
“Who the hell are those two hotties in there?”
“The dark-haired one is my step-dad, the other one is an ass named Taz.”
CHAPTER 6
Darcy and I hit the first club called Dazzle.
It was packed with mostly college kids like us. My fake I.D. worked like magic. It hadn’t failed me yet.
We managed to find a two-seater table not too far from the dance floor, and squeezed through the bodies to grab it.
Darcy ordered a Bloody Parrot; I ordered a Thorny Mexican. We both liked our tequila different ways.
“Cheers,” she said, tapping her glass to mine.
“Here’s to holidays with the folks,” I smiled as I sipped my drink.
