Feminine 101

If you have not already done so, or if you are new, I recommend starting with Chapter 1. This is a linear continuation of the story and will make a lot more sense read as a whole. Please leave a like, comment, or subscribe to my blog to get notifications when a new chapter is published.

It was eight a.m. on Saturday and her cell was humming precariously toward the edge of the thrift store nightstand. She glanced at the caller ID. Who knew Nikki was a morning person? Mustering her most chipper tone she slid the green button to the side. “Hello?”

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“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty! We’ve got work to do,” greeted the cheerful debutante in a vaguely Eddie Murphyish impression. 

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Only then, did the revving of that monstrous vee eight register as coming from out front rather than over the phone. “Oh, you’re here! Come on up! I’ll be ready in a few,” Rana replied, tossing the covers aside and swinging her feet to the floor. 

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Moments later, knocking sounded at the door, but Rana was already there to greet her morning guest. Brush in hand, she grinned. “I had you pegged as a night owl. I’ll be ready in a few. Can I get you some coff–nevermind.”

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Nikki brandished two steaming cups from the place down the street, one extended to her newest friend. “Normally I’m a night owl, for sure. But shopping is like therapy…probably. Anyway, I can’t wait to dress you up!” She placed her cup on a side table and formed a frame with her fingers, peering through it at Rana. “I’m guessing you will probably look amazing in a mermaid style. Maybe some sequins? Nothing tacky, though. Ugh.” She shuddered probably visualizing some obscene eighties prom dress in her mind.

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Nikki shrugged, tossing the brush unceremoniously on the nightstand. She rifled through her drawer and selected a pair of jeans with a button down plaid shirt to swap with her pajamas.

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“Comfort is king!” Nikki didn’t really believe that. Although… She might not be caught dead in plaid, but there was no denying that Rana pulled it off remarkably well. 

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Rana slipped on a pair of sandals and plucked her purse off the peg by the door. Coffee in hand, she gestured for the door, “After you.”

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“No makeup?” Nikki was eyeing her dubiously. 

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“Consider me a blank canvas. Am I wrong?”

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Nikki’s uncertainty morphed to a nearly predatory grin. “Well, you haven’t been yet. Let’s go.”.

The day wore long, trying on dozens of dresses at a number of different stores. They had lunch at a classy little bistro Rana had never heard of–though she made a mental note to mention it to guests shopping in the area. She must have tried a dozen different shoes before she was satisfied with comfort and Nikki signed off on the fashion. By five o’clock, they had pulled into the decadent mansion Nikki called home and by seven o’clock Nikki stepped back to examine her masterpiece. Just the right tendrils rested at Rana’s neck and temple. Her makeup erred toward subtle, placing gentle emphasis on her eyes. The red chiffon dress draped across her delicate left shoulder leaving the other bare and hugged her curves just to below her hips. A modest slit right of center teased glimpses of her rather shapely thigh. “Perfection.” She kissed her own fingertips before splaying her fingers wide. 

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Rana blushed, twisting in front of the full-length mirror, “I’ll admit you’ve made a silk purse out this sow’s ear.”

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Her friend wrinkled her nose. “What? Ew! Isn’t a sow a pig?”

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Rana tossed her head back laughing. “Yes. It’s an old saying…ah nevermind.”

Derek was already waiting downstairs so they both descended to meet him. Raising his gaze to take her in, his breath caught. He recovered relatively quickly, though, clearing his throat and saying, “Forgive me, but you look stunning.”

“What is there to forgive?” Her eyes twinkled, “I must admit that we have Nikki to thank. She knows how to dress someone up.” Rana gestured to the shoes and skirt.

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“Please don’t start talking about pigs again.” Nikki was dabbing at her lipstick in the foyer mirror. 

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Derek cocked his head to one side in a quizzical manner. Rana only shook her head with a demure smile so he shrugged. “Shall we?” 

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Nikki’s father had sent a limo, or maybe the daughter had ordered it, but the three of them scooted into place as the car seemingly floated away. 

The venue, a ballroom area on the top floor of the hotel, was beautifully decorated, all glamour and sophistication that spilled out onto the exclusive rooftop deck. The view was breathtaking, as the sun slipped below the watery horizon splashing the scattered clouds with a thousand shades of pink, violet, cobalt, and copper. Add to it, the modestly twinkling lights of the city, and one simply could not decide where to look.

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Rana was famished. Lunch, light as it was, felt like an eternity ago, but dinner was to be served shortly so she and Derek angled toward the roof deck. 

Nikki disappeared off in search of her father, but returned breathless moments later. “Rana, guess who’s here!” her eyes were bright with curiosity and eagerness to gauge her friend’s reaction. 

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Rana couldn’t imagine, so she shook her head, “Who?”

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“Nathan Dayleigh! He’s working with my father on some hotel acquisition or other.” Nikki didn’t really care what he was doing, but was burning to the point of nosiness. Clearly there was something there. 

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Rana felt the color drain from her face, and her stomach instantly knotted. “Excuse me, where is the restroom?” She craned to look over Nikki’s shoulder. 

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Nikki frowned, pointing toward the restrooms across the deck. A shadow of doubt played across her countenance–what if Dayleigh was dangerous? Her gaze followed Rana’s lovely figure until it disappeared, and she felt the decided shift in her own emotions from intrigue to concern. She determined then and there she would learn everything she could about Mr. Dayleigh. She could not stand for someone to hurt the only truly kind person she knew. 

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Derek had watched the exchange, reading Nikki’s face like a picture book. When her brows furrowed in uneasiness, he spoke up, “Who is Nathan Dayleigh?”

Nikki glanced up at the cute jock who accompanied her friend. “Hmm? Oh, he’s a guest at the hotel. Rana seemed like she might know him or something about him, anyway. He was kinda short with her the other day and didn’t act like he recognized her, though.” She recognized the territorial expression working its way across his face. “Trust me, you have way more going for you than he does.” She eyed him top to bottom meaningfully. 

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He chuckled at her bluntness, then turned back toward the water in an effort at patience. He leaned on the railing, feigning a casualness he did not feel. 

Nikki, who had also leaned on the railing, stared at the vast, painted sky. After a moment, she spoke, “You ever look at her eyes?”

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He did not turn toward Nikki, only nodded. “Yeah.”

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“Like she sees all of you, not just the you you put on for people to see.”

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Derek again understood. “And she doesn’t hate you for what you try to hide?

Yeah.”

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“Or like she knew you already.” 

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“Yeah.” 

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Nikki glanced up at him then turned back to the fading sunset. “I felt so stupid walking up to the desk in that boring, ugly suit, Daddy makes us wear. I should be learning to manage his business, but there I was working the concierge desk because I can’t take anything seriously. I guess I should be thankful he didn’t make me clean rooms.” She chuckled looking at her perfectly manicured nails. “She made me feel right at home. Not once has she ever made me feel stupid.”

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“I’m afraid to ask her out,” he confessed.

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“So you’re not an item, huh?” She looked him up and down again. “What’re you afraid of?”

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“That I’ll ruin it all. She’s special.” He gestured toward his person in a self-deprecating manner, “I’m just your run-of-the-mill jock.”

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Nikki, who found no fault in Derek, could only agree. Rana was special and Derek wasn’t the guy for her, despite all the clearly desirable traits he possessed. She glanced unconsciously toward the restrooms.

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Rana resisted the urge to splash water on her face and undo all Nikki’s meticulous work. She breathed deeply trying to sooth away the wave of nausea that swept over her. Who was this stranger and what did he have to do with her? Her mind raced but she could recall no setting in her memory where he belonged. She was confident that she had never laid eyes on this man until this week. But she could not ignore the pit in her stomach, the tremulous breaths she now drew suggesting rather forcefully that he meant something to her. But what? Taking a deep breath she straightened, smoothing her dress down her hips, swaying slightly. She swallowed against the overwhelming, inexplicable emotion that made her feel physically ill. She forced her breathing to slow, steeling herself to return to the dining hall. 

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The expansive room, with its vaulted ceilings and rows of glittering chandeliers, was cool, bathed in soft light cast across the round, linen-clad tables and their scattered occupants. Polite conversations and laughter formed a general hum.   

At the far end of the room, appearing decidedly aloof, was the man himself. He stood alone nodding stiffly to those who greeted him, speaking very little despite the increasing flow of people into the dining room. 

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Servers were beginning to deliver platters of food and the smell was tantalizing. Her stomach grumbled as the scent of lamb filled her nostrils. 

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She froze. 

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Remembered.

To continue reading the story, click here for Chapter 3.

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