Dark Light (The Dark Light Series)(4)
Once back at home, I scurry to my room to prepare for my night out. Dinner has lasted longer than expected with the copious amounts of food and wine and I know Morgan will be here soon. Right on cue, the doorbell rings. Donna answers the door and I hear the click clack of Morgan’s Louboutins approach my bedroom.
“Happy Birthday, Bitch!” she squeals holding up a bottle of Moet from her designer bag.
Only Morgan could look this stunning coming straight from her part time job at a high end salon. She’s wearing a tight one shoulder coral mini dress and dangerously high heels. Her hair of the month, a long sleek jet black ponytail, sweeps her backside with each exaggerated movement. She’s also brought a rolling carry-on that houses an array of beauty arsenal, all ensuring that I’ll get the Morgan Pierre makeover magic treatment. She takes one look at the sleek black pants and flouncy black top I’ve laid out and cringes with disgust.
“Oh hell no, Gabs. This will not do you justice after I’m done with you. Here.” She fishes out something from her carry-on bag and tosses it to me. It’s a sexy black lace dress from one of Morgan’s favorite stores, meaning it is way out of my modest price range. “It’s yours,” she smiles, showing off her magnificent, gleaming white teeth.
I get a glimpse of the attached price tag, realizing that it’s about three times more than I’ve ever paid for a dress. “Morgan, I can’t accept this! It’s too much!”
“You can and you will. And you will rock the hell out of it! Now let’s get you ready so we can go turn some heads,” she says sitting me down and getting to work.
When Morgan is done creating her masterpiece, I almost don’t recognize myself. My creamy skin looks flawless and my gleaming hazel eyes are accented by shimmering kohl. My lips are perfectly pouty and glossed and my onyx hair cascades in soft ringlets down my back. I smile my approval and Morgan hands me a glass of the champagne that she’s expertly popped without alarming my parents. We toast to my birthday and her hard work and then head out to conquer the night.
We step into the lounge bar, surpassing the line of waiting customers huddled together trying to keep warm in the frigid night air. It’s March so the temperature is still quite low, plummeting as soon as the sun sets. Of course, Morgan knows the doorman and he lets us right in. We bound up to the hostess station where we are escorted to a VIP table behind a red velvet rope. When Morgan goes out, she goes all out! Chilled champagne and glasses are stationed at the little table centered between plush leather couches. The lounge is draped in rich jewel tones and emanates a sexy Middle Eastern vibe. The lighting is a dim rose tint and I instantly sway my hips to the sensual tunes bumping from the speakers. The place oozes eroticism and I love it. I try hard not to look overly impressed and dazzled but can’t wipe the stupid grin off my face. Already feeling the warm effects from the champagne, I let my steely façade roll down and replace it with a carefree smile. This is my night.
“Morgan, you sure know how to show a girl a good time! Who else are we expecting?” I ask noting the number of glasses at our table.
Right on cue, Jared, his older brother James, and their friend Miguel stroll up. After a barrage of Happy Birthday wishes and hugs, we toast to my official initiation into my twenties. I can’t help but beam as Jared clinks his glass with mine, his green eyes twinkling under the disco lights. I honestly couldn’t imagine celebrating this occasion with anyone else.
Over the next few hours we dance, laugh and drink to our hearts’ content. Between the champagne and tequila shots, my head is swimming and my inhibitions have taken a dive along with my already questionable morals.
I’m rocking my hips to Katy Perry’s “E.T.” when I catch the most magnificent eyes I’ve ever seen from across the room, instantly stopping me in my tracks. They are ridiculously light under long dark eyelashes. His gaze is unyielding, intimidating and almost startling. It’s as if everyone in the club is suddenly frozen in time and he and I are the only two unaltered. I am so entranced by his glower that I hold my breath for what seems like several minutes. Someone taps me and I break free of his hypnotic daze. Only then do I have the privilege to marvel at the rest of him. Dangerously dark hair styled in chaotic perfection halos the most beautiful face, man or woman, I have ever seen. I can see his taut, muscular build even under the long sleeve black shirt and jeans. He isn’t unusually tall yet I can easily see him above the mass of partygoers. Deep set, unbelievably light eyes, full lips, alabaster skin… I swear that I’m gazing upon an angel. Holy shit! And he’s staring at me!