False Lines (Blurred Lines Volume 7) (10 page)

“Sure, they’re pretty.” She shrugs and gets to work streaking black wash-out hair dye in her hair. “They just don’t seem like your style. They’re too… what’s the word?” She snaps her fingers several times.

I ignore her and put some blush on the apples of my cheeks.

“Pretentious,” she finishes.

I glance over. “They are not. They’re classy.”

“Yeah, maybe if you’re fifty.” She sprays on some hairspray and puts on my lipstick and dabs it with a tissue. She leans against the counter, her focus on me.

“You’re twenty-one.” She takes the pearls between her fingers. “Zane? Right. He seems like the pretentious asshole type.”

I carefully remove the pearls from her hand and cling to them. They might not be the style of Cadence the Hooker, but they’re totally the style of Cadence, Business Owner. Plus, they make me feel special. I like them.

“Please tell me you aren’t choosing him over Cruze. He’s bad news.” She starts throwing her makeup back in her bag. “He had one of his goons break down our door and drag you off to who knows where. He…” She touches my shoulder and I turn to face her. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

I sigh and nod. I get where she’s coming from. She’s a good friend. “When I’m with him I don’t feel like a whore. I feel like a person worth loving.” Tears well in my eyes and I clear my throat, forcing them away. “He’s never brought up what I did for a living.” I grasp her shoulders. “He believes in me, in my abilities as a person. He really sees me.” I drop my hands, turn back to the mirror, and apply a coat of bright red lipstick, then cover it with shiny gloss. “Does that make sense?” I finally ask.

She’s staring at me. Her face is serious, and she isn’t saying anything. She crosses her arms. “You love him,” she whispers quietly.

My heart starts to pound rapidly. Is what I’m feeling: love? My heart soars with one answer. Yes. To Jessica, I smile and say, “I adore him.”

She pulls me into a hug. “My baby is growing up.” She sniffles and I laugh. “I never thought this day would come.” She holds me at a distance and looks in my eyes. I swear she’s reading the hieroglyphics on my soul, the ones that tell a truth I’m not willing to share with anyone—even myself. “He’s a lucky guy.”

I hug her again, mostly because I don’t want to cry, and seeing the happiness on her face makes me want to happy-cry. But I can’t. Because there’s nothing to happy-cry about. Zane is gone. Maybe not for good, but he isn’t letting himself be with me. And it hurts.

The limo lets Jessica and me out at the curb near the entrance to Studio 45. It’s a little after ten, but there’s already a line around the block. Jessica told her friends to wait in line until we arrive. As soon as we step out of the car, several familiar faces leave the line and walk over.

The night is overcast, but warm. A slight breeze ruffles my hair and I get goose bumps.

Tonight is going to be special
, I think, rubbing my arms.

The bass coming from the club is loud even from the street. People are moving to the beat, talking and laughing. The whole vibe is exciting. Several of those in line are smoking and I catch a whiff. For some reason it reminds me of Cruze.

“Ready?” Jessica asks, giving me a once over. I had let my hair dry naturally and then used a curling iron to give it some curl, giving it a softness to contrast with my bright red lips, dress and heels.

“Fuck yeah,” I say with a smile.

Hand in hand we walk up to the bulky bouncer. He looks like a young Dwayne Johnson but meaner, if that’s possible.

Jessica leans in close. “We’re the Norton party.”

He doesn’t even bat an eyelash at her or me. I guess he’s used to seeing lots of pretty people. “I need to see Cadence Norton’s ID to verify.” His words come out low and menacing, like we might be lying and, as I open my wallet to get my driver’s license, I wonder if I might be.

Jessica plays it off cool. She’s even flirty. “Sure.” She turns to me but I’m already unzipping my purse. Jessica goes on. “It’s my friend’s twenty-first birthday. You should come upstairs with us and party.”

He keeps a straight face. “I’m working.”

I hand over my ID. He looks at it, then at me, then hands it back. I put it away as the emotionless bouncer stands, unhooks the red velvet rope, and smiles. “Welcome to Studio 45. Enjoy your party.”

“Um, it’s me and her and these…” I trail off and count in my head. “Twenty,” I finally say.

“Sure.” He lets them all in.

There’s another bouncer at the door. He’s blocking our entrance. “How many?” he asks in a deep voice.

“Twenty-two so far,” I say.

He nods and then speaks into something I can’t see. “Alicia, the Norton party is here. Please escort them to the VIP.” He barely raises his voice. I’m shocked I heard him.

While we wait for Alicia, I turn back to the bouncer near the red velvet rope. He’s hooking it back up and dealing with a couple of obvious teenage girls who have on less clothes than me. They’re trying to get in.

“Come on. We’ll do whatever you want.”

“Go home and study,” he says. “You’re aren’t getting into this club on my watch.”

They walk away, their bodies swaying into each other. As soon as they’re gone more bombard him. Several people from the line are shouting that they’re part of the Norton party too. I stand next to him and whisper in his ear. “I believe everyone’s here but John Cruze and his date, Scarlett.”

He gives me a strange look. “Really?”

“What can I say?” I shrug and smile.

He looks at me like I’m lying. “Okay,” he finally says, giving me a once over. “Be safe.”

“I will,” I reply and walk over to Jessica, who’s waiting by the door.

A tall waitress with frizzy red hair appears. “Norton party?”

“That’s us,” Jessica shouts.

“Follow me.”

“Here we go,” Jessica says, and we walk in together.

The VIP room is huge. Black velvet curtains cover all the walls except the one looking over the dance floor. It’s only half a wall and made of glass. There are black and white and gray leather couches and chairs placed along the edges and right in front of the wall overlooking the main club dance floor. The tabletops are made of thick tempered glass. The ceiling is painted black and covered in thousands of tiny lights so it looks like stars. Near the entrance is a buffet table lined with all sorts of yummy hors d’oeuvres. There are three other VIP rooms upstairs, but they’re off limits.

Private
, the waitress said.

Jessica, my friends, and I dance, drink, and party until just before midnight. A caterer wheels in a two tiered birthday cake. It’s red—the color of my dress—with black polka dots. On top stand a pair of shiny black stilettoes made out of modeling chocolate. They have glitter on them so they sparkle whenever they catch the light. Twenty-one red candles surround the shoes.

My friends sing happy birthday and I make a wish. Zane! His face. His name is all I can think.

Once the candles are out, several waitresses pass around shots. Then I cut the cake. Underneath the red fondant is chocolate cake layered with strawberry mousse. It’s the best fucking cake I’ve ever tasted. I ask the woman who brought the cake out if I can keep the shoes. She sets them aside and tells me she’ll have them for me at the end of the night.

All the booze is free. I’m guessing it’s paid for. A part of me thinks this is Cruze’s doing, except he hasn’t shown up yet. I can’t help wondering if he’s mad or if he and Scarlett really are happy together.

My friends have me sit on a chair and I open presents. I get all sorts of fun random things, from lingerie to perfume to a hot pink sweat band that says
Run for the TaTas
along the front. When I’m done opening presents, it’s time for the shots.

“Come on,” Jessica says. “You’ve had four. Only seventeen more to go.”

“No problem,” I say.

The waitress hands me a shot.

I tip it back and swallow. “Five,” everyone yells when I slam the glass on the table.

Cruze and Scarlett walk in just as the waitress pours me another. The room goes quiet… well, except for the ear splitting music coming from below.

“Hey,” he says, coming over and kissing me on the cheek. I notice he’s holding Scarlett’s hand.

I stand.

“Everyone, say hello to John and Scarlett,” Jessica says, taking me by the elbow.

Our friends welcome them in unison.

“Thanks for having me.” He smirks at Jessica. “You sober, or should I lock up my lips now?”

“Ha. Ha.” She gives Scarlett a once over. “I’ll be at the buffet table if you need backup,” she stage whispers.

“Awesome,” I respond.

Cruze leans down and whispers in my ear. “Hi, Cade. Way to throw yourself a party.”

I don’t correct him. Obviously it isn’t him who did this. Instead I smile. “Hey Cruze, that’s for coming.” Then I look around him to Scarlett. “So glad you could make it, Scarlett. You look beautiful.”

And she does. She’s wearing a form fitting white dress with a plunging neckline and jagged pieces cut out of the front. A sheer material covers the entire dress. She isn’t wearing nylons and has on pearl white shoes. Her hair is straight as a stick and hangs to her breasts, and she has on an obscene amount of makeup.

John is in a pair of jeans, loafers, and a black tee shirt. It looks like he hasn’t showered in days. He’s rumpled and sexy as hell.

He hands me a beautifully wrapped pink box with a big black bow. “This is from Scarlett and I.”

“It’s just from John,” Scarlett says with a scowl.

I chuckle. “Thank you,” I say, taking the present. I undo the ribbon and tear the paper. Inside is a Tiffany’s box. My hands are shaking. On the one hand, I’m grateful he came and that he got me a present. On the other, I hope the gift isn’t too personal. I take a deep breath and open the box. It’s a bracelet, an incredibly gorgeous fucking diamond bracelet. “Cruze,” I breathe, amazed at how thoughtful the gift is. “I don’t think I should accept this.” I glance at Scarlett. Her expression is surly. Obviously she’s not happy. Then I look at Cruze. His eyes are shining with happiness.

“Do you like it?” he asks, taking it from the box and unhooking it.

“Yes, but…”

“I mean, shit, how much did you spend?” Scarlett asks, her hands on her hips. “I thought you were done with her.”

Cruze gives Scarlett a death stare. “Don’t start, Scar. She’s a friend.”

Scarlett stomps off and grabs a glass of champagne.

“Hey,” I say as he puts the bracelet on my wrist. “I don’t want to make waves between you and Scarlett.” He smells like cigarettes and his cologne.

“Don’t worry about her,” he says. He hooks it and kisses my cheek again.

I touch it and am in shock. “This is too much.” I don’t even want to imagine how much he spent. Like thousands of dollars, I’m guessing.

“It isn’t too much. I wish I could give you more, what you need. Maybe someday?” He grabs my hands and squeezes.

I don’t want to get his hopes up. “I don’t know….”

Cruze puts a hand to my lips. “No serious talk now. It’s a party, right? Let’s party!” he shouts. His demeanor changes from sweet to hard. “Bring me and the birthday girl a shot.”

A waitress walks over with a tray filled with shots. Cruze takes one each for me and him. He clinks my shot glass. “To getting want you want,” he says and swallows down the shot.

“Sure,” I say throwing my shot back.