He throws up his hands and mutters something about finding a drink.
I loop my arm in Sandra’s and make off for the apartment.
“Have you seen Gabe yet?” I ask.
“Mr. Laurent? No, he’s not here yet. Did Sawyer need him for something?” she asks, but she brightens when she does and it tells me everything I need to know.
The elevator doors open in the lobby and we walk straight into Chloe, who, thank fuck, has worn what I put out for her before I left the dorm.
“Am I going the wrong way?” She’s adorable when she’s puzzled, her nose scrunched up, her forehead wrinkled. A wisp of hair falls from the arrangement on her head, falling across her eye, and she blows it away with an annoyed puff.
I drag them both back to the apartment and make a show of digging through my makeup bag looking for the lipstick that’s in my pocket while Sandra hovers very awkwardly in the bathroom doorway and Chloe checks out the view.
“I don’t think it’s appropriate that I’m in Mr. Camden’s bedroom,” Sandra remarks, trying to keep her eyes on the floor.
“Relax, we just have normal sex in there,” I tell her, gesturing to the bedroom. “It’s not like we’re making sex tapes or anything.” I stop dead. Oh, holy shit, that’s a good idea though. “Anyway,” I say, drawing out the word, “found my lipstick. I guess we should head back to the party.”
Sandra makes a beeline for the bedroom door while I take two steps then stop in front of the walk-in closet and gasp. “Wait!” She stops and looks up questioningly. Chloe doesn’t even blink, used to my dramatics. I dash into the closet and return, holding up a black sequined miniskirt. “You should try this on.”
Sandra starts to respond with an, “Um,” but I’ve already crammed the skirt into her hands and shoved her towards the bathroom.
“Go on,” I tell her, smile wide and reassuring.
“Uh, okay,” she agrees. Her voice is reluctant but she’s eyeing the material curiously.
She slips back out of the bathroom a minute later, still in her suit jacket but wearing the skirt. I’m surprised to see she was hiding some fuck-me heels under those pants. I can work with this.
“Sandra, your legs! I’d kill to have long legs like yours. You have to wear that skirt. I insist.”
“You think?” she questions, walking back into the bathroom to look at her reflection. “I’m taller than you. This is really short on me.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re welcome.” Gabe’s not gonna be able to take his eyes off her. “Now take off your shirt.”
“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows shoot up in question.
“Just the shirt under your jacket. Then put the jacket back on.”
“Um, you want me to go to the party without a shirt?”
“Just do it,” Chloe says, walking over from the window. “Or we’re never leaving this room. Trust me.”
Sandra twists her lips and does as she’s told, reappearing in her suit jacket and the short sequined skirt. Perfect. The suit jacket is black and tailored, the cut creating a v-neck and exposing some skin, but covering plenty. Her legs look a mile long, bare under the short skirt and ending in those fuck-me heels.
“We should curl your hair,” I announce, walking into the bathroom and plugging in an iron. She doesn’t even fight me on this. Progress.
I sit her at the vanity in Sawyer’s bathroom and go to work putting big loose curls into Sandra’s hair.
“Who is Everly trying to set you up with?” Chloe asks her, while digging through my makeup bag, so she misses the startled expression on Sandra’s face.
“What?” Sandra’s eyes dart over to Chloe.
“She’s setting you up, you know that, right?” Chloe, finding my hand lotion, looks up.
“I’m not setting anyone up.” I shake my head. I’m not. I’m merely creating opportunities.
“She put me on a dating site without telling me.” Chloe squeezes some lotion out of the tube and rubs her hands together. I don’t think she needs the lotion. I think she was just looking for an excuse to rub her hands together in glee over having someone new to share my wrongdoings with. “Sent me on a date I didn’t even know I was on,” she adds.
“One time. That happened one time.” I unplug the curling iron, wrapping the cord around the handle.
“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“It won’t!” I promise, shaking my head.
She holds my gaze for a second, then nods.
“The thing is,” I say slowly, testing the waters, “he’s not here tonight, but I do think I found the perfect guy for you.”
I’m met with a blank stare. Chloe doesn’t even blink.
“You know how you have a thing for FBI agents?” I ask, getting a little excited. I wasn’t joking about the Criminal Minds marathon. She’s seen every episode at least twice. I take her silence as encouragement. “He’s based here in Philly and he’s hot.”