It was finally Tuesday.
Sure, it would probably be the last night I would ever spend with him but I was grateful for the closure and maybe just the teeniest bit hopeful that it wouldn’t be the end.
I smiled at my reflection, pleased to find the Giselle I had unearthed in Mexico smiling back at me. My entire day had been decadent, mostly thanks to Candy who had insisted on a girl’s day at the spa. I had been steamed, plucked, manicured, pedicured and, for the first time in my life, waxed bare. I’d run my hands over the ultra sensitive flesh as I pulled on my carefully selected lingerie, art nouveau inspired high waisted satin panties and a balconette that barely contained my breasts. My waves were brushed out until they gleamed, the usual mascara and blush was applied and I had anointed my pulse points with lavender oil, knowing how much Sinclair enjoyed the scent on me.
It was fun to take a day to pamper myself and it wasn’t something I would have done even six months ago. So, I made a promise to myself that even if this was my last night with Sinclair, I wouldn’t let it impact the positive changes his presence had made on me.
But I also promised myself that I wouldn’t ruin the night with heaviness and questions and even though I was so incandescently happy that I felt like I could float into space like a rising star, there was no accounting for how the night would evolve and I wanted to be prepared.
I was just putting on some music after finally deciding between John Legend and Nora Jones, when my phone vibrated violently and fell off the kitchen counter.
“Hello?”
“I’m sorry, I was so nervous I had to call! Is he there yet?” Candy’s voice chirped through the phone as if she was yelling in my ear.
“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have answered.”
“Right,” she paused sagely. “So, what’s up?”
“Candy!” I laughed. “Why are you bothering me?”
“Oh come on, it’s not like you don’t need the distraction. He isn’t due for another fifteen minutes and don’t you dare tell me you haven’t already fluffed the pillows, plumped up the girls and turned on some sultry tunes. I bet you’re practically itching with restless anticipation.”
She wasn’t wrong, so I sighed and flopped down on the mahogany leather loveseat in the living room so I could keep an eye on the door.
“I fluffed the pillows twice actually.”
She snorted. “I don’t doubt it. This is your big chance to show him that you’re the right choice. It’s a pretty big deal.”
I hummed into the phone but a niggling question kept popping into my head. “Candy? How do you know I’m the right choice? I don’t even know if I believe that.”
“Oh, Elle, I know your naivety is part of your wonderful charm but I do wish you could see yourself the way other people do. You are, I don’t know,” she huffed, “lovely. Just natural and kind and charming. Everything that Sinclair has a hard time emulating.”
It was my turn to snort. “I’ve completely fucked up his life.”
“Well, yeah, that too,” she agreed cheerfully. “But in a good way.”
“This conversation is giving me a headache.”
“Really? I think it will be the highlight of my night.”
“Maybe we should spend more time talking about your love life then.” I paused. “I saw you dancing with Cage at the gala.”
There was a long stretch of silence. I stared at my pale lavender manicure while I waited.
“That’s an entirely different can of worms,” she said finally. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m fantastic. But Cage is going to be an American rock star, and he will never think of me as anything besides Candy Kay, Sinclair’s trusty side kick.”
I wanted to argue with her but the thing was, I didn’t want to lie either and I wasn’t sure if Cage ever would see Candy in a romantic light. Truthfully, I had seen him look at Elena with more passion than he had ever expressed with Candy.
“Wow, now that I’ve finished being a Debbie downer, tell me what you’re wearing.”
I almost choked on my laughter. “You helped me pick them out this afternoon!”
“Right, damn. Okay, you are officially no fun. I’m going to get back to my riveting night of Netflix binge watching and rabid popcorn eating.”
“What show is it tonight?” I asked through my chuckle.
“The new season of House of Cards. Is it wrong that I think Frank Underwood is a total hunk?”