Vanilla On Top(56)
“Obviously, you can’t tell him what’s happening on your end. You could lose your job and the new position if they find out you are literally sleeping with the enemy.”
I refrain from telling her about the lower original offer that came in. Maybe Tony couldn’t get his bosses to sign off on the higher amount. I was led to believe he was the primary on the deal and capable of making all the decisions, but something must have happened I’m unaware of. I’ve been dying to ask him, but we agreed not to talk about work last night. “Now, you know what’s eating me.”
Carla lets out a dramatic sigh and flounces into the closest chair. “Yeah, and it’s a doozy. You need tonight to let off steam more than I do.” She jumps up and heads to my bedroom. “Come on, I plan on raiding your closet to dress you up in something drop dead sex-say.”
I laugh and trail after her. “Why? Don’t I have enough on my plate without adding more men to the mix?”
“Now see, that’s where you’re wrong, sister.” She rummages through my clothes, her eagle eye unerringly picking out my daring new purchases. “You dress first and foremost for yourself, not a man. I’ll admit I was jealous when you started changing last week.” She looks back at me and winks. “Not one of my finer moments. But traveling this week gave me more time than I wanted for a little much-needed introspection. I realized it was my own dissatisfaction with my life that had me feeling uncomfortable with what you were doing with yours.” Her expression turns to shock when she discovers the leather pants hanging with the tags still on them. “Oh. My. God.” She waves them in the air. “You have to wear these tonight.”
My face heats. “No way! I’m not ready for those yet.”
“Dammit! Yes, you are. Look in the mirror.” She points to the oval one hanging over my dresser. “You are gorgeous and in the prime of your life. When is the right time to wear something sexy on a night out with your friends? Now! Don’t try and tell me I’m wrong.”
I bite my lip, still unsure. “I dunno. And hey, where is the girl who acted like her nose was out of joint last week over soup, huh?”
“I told you. I was acting like a self-conscious, jealous bitch and I only realized it when you accused me of wanting to be with you because I was prettier.” She whips back to me and points her finger. “Which I’m not. You are stunning. You just need to believe it.”
She returns to the closet and with a triumphant screech, hauls out the black leather bustier I bought with the pants. She spins and shakes the garment at me. “Do you have any idea how good you are going to look in this? Tiny waist and perfect pert boobs?”
I frown, not sure I can pull it off. “Umm…”
She wiggles her eyebrows. A determined glint comes into her eye. “You will be wearing this drop dead, sexy-ass outfit if I have to clonk you on the head and dress you myself!”
I laugh, moving closer to wrap my arms around her. “You’re the best, Carla.” I step back and eye the outfit I felt bold-as-brass trying on in the store. “Okay, I’ll wear it, but you’d better be honest and tell me if it’s too much. The goal is to not look like a street walker, you know.”
“Impossible. With your fresh face and simple elegance no one would ever mistake you for a hooker in that outfit.” She spots the black boots with the spiked silver heel. “Oh,” she lovingly runs her hand over them. “But if we add these you might just pass for a dominatrix in training.”
Carla and I meet Gemma and Katrina at an upscale place I’ve never been to. Katrina works for a PR firm and obtained tickets through her company. Something about a new client and a special DJ event, but I wasn’t paying attention, my nerves kept me distracted. Katrina’s a high-energy redhead with the curves and pale skin to turn any man’s head. I love her attitude. Gemma is a sassy brunette with a boyfriend who’s head over heels in love with her.
Both women eye my outfit when we step out of the cab and give me a nod of approval as we enter the bar. “Looking good, Heather,” Gemma says with a wink. “Remind me to send pictures to Steve so he knows exactly what he’s missing tonight.”
I force a smile, rubbing a hand self-consciously on one thigh, feeling the mold of the snug leather over the curve. Every fiber of my being is acutely aware of how my outfit fits. In the end, I opted for a cropped jacket to partly cover the exposed leather ties of the top and chose the new red heels over the black boots. Carla’s comment about a “dominatrix in training” made me feel too uncomfortable. Sure, she can tease me about being a vanilla dom, but stepping out looking like one is more than I can handle for now.