Mile High (Up in the Air #2)(5)

Bianca: We’re meeting at 6pm at The Dime Lounge. It’s just off of the strip, on the east side of Tropicana. It’s going to be a lot of flight attendants and pilots.

James: I’ll be there.

I started getting ready at 3:30, which was early for me. Giving myself more than an hour to get ready was unusual, so taking over two hours meant that I was nervous. Nervous and excited.

It took me an uncharacteristically long time to choose an outfit. I finally settled on a black mini-skirt that showed a lot of leg. I paired it with a sleeveless black button-up silk top that showed a tasteful but generous hint of cle**age. The all-black outfit put me in the mood for some loud shoes, so I dug out a pair of wedge sandals that were a bright mix of colors that didn’t go with anything but black. They were a mix of orange, yellow, pink and blue that made me smile. They laced up my ankles in wide satin ribbons, and I tied them in neat little bows there. I never got a chance to wear the impulsive purchase, and I was pleased with the overall look of the outfit.

I found some big silver hoops for my ears. I eyed a silver box that had arrived in my mail the day I’d gotten home from the hospital. I’d glanced inside of it, seen the contents, and shut it without another glance. It contained the collar and watch that James had given me, before all hell had broken loose. I didn’t know what to do with the jewelry. I didn’t feel like I could keep it, since we weren’t together. But I was also sure that James wouldn’t accept it back. He obviously wouldn’t, since the last time I’d returned it it had just ended up in my mailbox.

I did my hair and makeup, stewing about the jewelry.

Part of me wanted to just wear it. The collar would go well with my neckline, setting off my cle**age nicely. James would be happy to see me wear it, I knew. But it might also give him the wrong idea. He might take it to mean that I was willing to pick up again where we’d last left off. I wasn’t sure I was willing to do that.

A change came over me when I was near James. A change that I wasn’t sure I liked. He’d gotten me to fall in love with him after just over a week of knowing him. And if that wasn’t bat-shit crazy, I didn’t know what was.

I left my hair pin straight and hanging down my back in a pale, beige-blond line. I lined my eyes in a soft brown. I had a heavy hand with the black mascara and used a generous amount of gold eyeshadow. I went with a soft pink lip, liberally applying gloss. It was more makeup than I usually went with, but I thought it would suit a place like The Dime just fine.

The overall effect made me feel sexy and sophisticated, and that was exactly what I wanted. I needed to feel confident when I saw James again.

I heard my phone chime, and knew it would be Stephan, saying it was time to go. A look at the clock told me that.

Impulsively, I opened the silver box. I weighed the lovely choker in my hands. It was a silver color, though I had no idea what metal it was. I could never tell the difference. But it looked expensive, with diamonds peppering the whole necklace, and a loop on the front made entirely of alarmingly large ones. I hadn’t realized how large they were before.

I took a deep breath, and reached back to put it on. The weight of it felt nice against the base of my neck, and I studied it, running my finger along it. I needed to go, but I couldn’t seem to look away from the collar around my neck.

I glanced back at the box, and noticed for the first time that the box held more than just the necklace and watch. I opened another small box that I had overlooked with my previous cursory inspection. It contained exquisite, large hooped earrings made up of large diamonds that matched the details on my collar to the T.

I bit my lip, and put them on. In for a penny, in for a pound, I thought recklessly.

I hurried out the door, and, sure enough, Stephan’s car was waiting in my driveway. I got into his car, digging into my small clutch-purse as I did so. I checked to make sure I had all the essentials.

Stephan let out a low whistle at the sight of me. “You look hot, Buttercup. If you hadn’t told me James was stopping by to see you, I could have guessed by that mini skirt.”

I gave him a sharp look, but couldn’t maintain it for long. He had a point. I hardly ever tried to dress sexy.

“Everyone is going to be there,” Stephan told me happily as we drove the twenty minutes to the club. He started naming off the attendees. Some I would normally have been happy to see, but at the moment, not so much.

Everyone knew I had been attacked in my home. And that I had been hospitalized for over a week. The rumor was that I’d had a home invader attack me, but people would be asking me well-meaning questions about it nonetheless. I hated the kinds of questions that I knew would be asked. I hated that people had even a vague idea of what had happened to me.

I’d survived, and the rest were just details , I told myself firmly. It was a mantra that always snapped me out of self-pity mode. As usual, it worked. I was alive, and it was enough.

We had a good-natured argument as we drove about whether Stephan should pop the collar of his polo.

He’d worn the collar up, and I’d noticed almost immediately. I just couldn’t seem to get onboard with the style. There was just something inherently douche-baggy about the look. I told him so.

He eventually caved, straightening his collar with a rueful smile.

“Just because you like a look, that doesn’t make it right,” I teased him.

We got to the lounge a solid ten minutes before six. The doorman was checking our I.D’s and even our airline badges. We both had them on us, since we had been told we’d need them to get an employee discount, but it was unusual to have to show them at the door.