My hand squeezed around my phone, almost cracking the case that was meant to protect it. Nope. Not tonight. Whitney was right. If he calls, that’s great. If he doesn’t, that’s great too.
I remembered how Calvin looked at Whitney, and how I yearned for that same look from a man. Ace Newman not calling was probably the best thing.
I pulled out my little yellow cocktail dress with black lace down the front from my garment bag and smoothed it out on the king size bed in my guest house. It was exciting to go out for a night on the town, even if it wasn’t with Ace.
I dressed, brushed out my hair, and reapplied fresh makeup. The front door of the guest house opened, and heels clicked on the tile entry. I knew Whitney was ready to go.
I turned to see my best friend looking fabulous in a beautiful blue cocktail dress with matching shoes. Her hair was pulled up in a sophisticatedly messy bun. “Wow, look at you, hot bitch.” I couldn’t hide my smile. She really did look beautiful.
“Talk about wow, look at you!” she returned the compliment.
I spun around in my yellow dress and kicked up one of my matching black high heels. It was unbelievable how much better we both dressed here in the city, but that was partly due to the fabulous shops that were practically on every corner.
“Harry’s out front.” Whitney checked her makeup in my mirror.
“Where are we going?” I asked, already feeling famished from not eating for several hours.
“Blue,” she said without any explanation.
I wasn’t sure I’d heard of that one. “A club or restaurant?”
“Both,” she replied with a smile.
Harry opened the back door to the Lincoln for us to climb inside. Whitney scooted close to me in the seat, her hand on my knee. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” I sighed, meaning it more than she could ever know.
Harry stopped the car under a large blue awning. The club lit up bright blue with an under-lighting that brightened the otherwise dull and neutral colored walls. “Wow, this is really nice.”
“Did you expect me to take you to a dump your first day as an official New Yorker?” Whitney’s comment struck me in a good way. A New Yorker. That’s what I was now, a New Yorker.
I smiled and gripped her arm while walking towards the entrance.
The front doors were opened for us to enter by a cute young man in a tuxedo, and once inside, several women wearing tight black cocktail dresses congregated at the hostess stand smiling to greet us. “Just two?” one of them asked.
“Four,” Whitney said calmly.
“Four?”
“Yeah, I told Calvin to just meet us here in a couple hours.”
We followed the hostess to a round table in the center of the bar. Men were staring, almost rubber-necking really, as we walked by. That felt damn good.
We ordered drinks, two Cosmopolitans, because we were city girls now, and then started browsing the appetizer menu, because we were still small town girls at heart. Women didn’t eat here; it was crazy watching how super thin they all were. Neither Whitney nor I were heavy, not in the least, but the women here all seemed to be scared of blowing up if they ate more than a single piece of lettuce.
“I’m starving!” Whitney pointed to the appetizer sampler, and I nodded. When the waitress returned with our drinks, we put in the order while she stared at us in amazement. Yes, we plan on eating, ya skinny broomstick!
“Have you noticed?” Whitney started to say as the waitress walked away.
“That women don’t eat here?” I finished her sentence, and we both had a good laugh.
“So, has Ace called?” Whitney asked, and my momentary good humor evaporated.
I shook my head and grabbed a chip from the bowl that sat in front of us. “No. He probably forgot that I even called.”
“Was he drunk?” Whitney asked.
I watched her dip a chip into the hot salsa and then lift it to her mouth. I didn’t know how she handled that hot stuff.
As I watched her chew, I wasn’t sure how much to tell her. I didn’t want to confess that he’d been with another woman when I called. It would just be another reason for her to disapprove of our… our what? Relationship? Friendship? Fuck buddy status? Friends with benefits situation?
Dammit.
How could I explain anything to her when I wasn’t even sure what to call whatever the hell Ace and I were doing? Or weren’t doing at the moment. Might never do again.
Whitney cleared her throat, and I realized I hadn’t answered her question. “He was at the bar.”
She nodded, smiled, and then devoured another hot salsa covered corn chip.
“What will you do if he doesn’t call? If he’s forgotten?” she asked.
I shrugged, lifted my drink to my lips, and offered up my coolest, disinterested smirk. She looked pleased that I showed little concern for hooking up with baseball’s baddest boy. Little did she know, it was actually tearing me up inside.
A couple of men sitting at the bar bought us drinks. The waitress looked annoyed as she brought them over to our table. “Do you need more chips?” she asked with a judgmental tone. She set the drinks down on the table, motioned to the men at the corner of the bar. “These are from them.”
Whitney told her to thank them, tipped her a bill that looked like a twenty, then smiled to the men as she waved her engagement ring hand.
“Are you interested in either of them?” she asked apologetically. “It’s just habit, but you might want to talk to them.”
“No, thank you.” I smiled, avoiding any eye contact with the pair wearing expensive suits and had slicked back black hair. Brothers maybe.
“So, tell me all about this bakery you’re opening,” she said, thankfully changing the subject.
“Well, there isn’t much to tell that isn’t a dream,” I told her.
I had a place in mind, but I knew it was probably out of my league. I told her all about my dream plans, and how I wanted her to help me design the building someday.
“I’ve been working with Rhett,” she said, giving me a little smile. I was shocked. I thought Rhett had a thing for her and was surprised Calvin didn’t object.
“Doing what?”
“I’m remodeling all of his offices downtown.” The smile widened, and I could see the pride behind it. Rightfully so. That was a huge job, and a businessman like Rhett, no matter his attraction, wouldn’t have placed that level of trust in her skills if he didn’t believe in her abilities.
“And Calvin is okay with this?”
Her eyes rolled, and she turned a light shade of pink. “I don’t even see Rhett,” she explained. “So—”
She jumped when Calvin snuck up behind her, placing his hands on her bare shoulders. A tall, blond, and very handsome man stood beside him wearing a cheesy smile.
“Hey, ladies, time to stop bashing us men,” Calvin announced as he slid around Whitney and into the open seat beside her. “This is Jack Peterson.”
Jack took the seat next to me and smiled, his handsome face transforming into gorgeous.
“Holly,” I whispered. Why did I whisper?
Jack extended his hand to me. I quickly released my drink and placed mine in his. Callouses roughened his palms, but they were strong, even if they gripped me too hard. “Very nice to meet you.”