Amy and I had set up a table full of snacks, nothing fancy or pretentious, just great wholesome food. I made a giant batch of my brownies, barely being able to restrain myself from eating half of them. And of course, we had our contractors set up a temporary – I was thinking of keeping it – bar, stocked with ingredients for a couple of cocktails, some champagne and good old beer.
Amy had decided she would be the bartender for the night. I had argued with her on that one, wanting to hire someone so she was free to mingle with the guests. We were going to encourage the women to have a try on, so we could hopefully make some money.
Amy had replied, “Gwen, I will be serving alcohol, not only does a couple of cocktails loosen people’s wallets, but what better place to mingle with people than at the bar, where people will be guaranteed to return to?”
I couldn’t fault her logic.
It was after six and I wondered where Amy was. I told her that we had invited Rosie and her posse to come at six-thirty, so she’d better be here. I had gotten ready early, so I could put the finishing touches on everything without worrying about primping. Amy had left about an hour ago, saying she had to go and “get hot for the biker/hot cop man candy that may or may not be there tonight.” Her words not mine.
I took another quick look in the floor to ceiling mirror. I had on a bright red dress. It was skintight with capped sleeves and a plunging neckline, exposing a fair bit of my not so ample breasts, but it worked for me, having been designed for small busted women – thank you, Mrs Beckham. I had kick ass matching red shoes, they were high, and I mean high, with a tiny stiletto heel and a pointed toe. There were tiny straps around my ankles embellished with little gold studs, giving my look a bit of edge. I had a couple of gold bangles on my wrist, but otherwise wore no jewelry, the dress and shoes spoke for themselves.
I had my hair up in a loose bun, with small curls escaping around my face. My makeup was not too over the top, a small amount of eyeliner, but a big amount of my absolute favorite mascara that made my lashes look lush. I had a subtle red gloss on my lips, not wanting to go too overboard with the red thing. I had to admit, I looked pretty good and judging on how Amy’s jaw had dropped when she saw me, I guessed she thought I looked okay as well.
I wondered if Luke would be here tonight. I deliberated to myself whether I could muster up the same sort of electric connection I felt with Cade and channel it into a more sensible direction.
The clanging of the bell shook me out of my thoughts and Amy strutted in. It was my turn for a jaw drop. I thought I looked okay, but she was…wow. She was dressed in pure white, donning a strapless, bustier style top, which molded to her body perfectly, showing off her more than ample chest in a tasteful way. She paired this with a skintight white pencil skirt, skimming her knees. She had on my white strappy stilettos, which came up past her ankle and made her legs look amazing. Her red hair was curled into soft waves and she had little makeup on, apart from some amazing red lipstick.
“Well?” She did a little turn.
“I think I may just turn lesbian for you. Lady, you look smoking,” I said with a smirk on my face. “Nice shoes by the way.”
“Thanks.” She flicked her hair, strutting towards me, straightening clothes now and then. “I got them at the best little store, right across from my bedroom, and they didn’t cost me a dime,” she said with mock shock.
I laughed. “Probably similar to the store I got these bracelets from then.” I held my arm up in front of her and jingled the borrowed jewelry.
“Good thing we both have such great taste,” she exclaimed, not batting an eyelash at me wearing her seriously pricey accessories.
We spent the rest of our time before the girls arrived making and drinking cocktails to loosen up a bit. Amy and I were sitting in my kick ass antique patterned couch, sipping our cosmos when the door jingled and Rosie and the girls walked in.
Rosie was wearing an amazing long sleeved, fitted little black dress with black and gold sandals. Lucy was wearing skintight black, high-waisted pants with a silver cropped top showing off her toned midsection, pairing it with silver sandals. Ashley had on another 1950s style dress with capped sleeves, a flower print that finished at her waist and had a powder blue full skirt. It was awesome.
“Holy shit!” Rosie yelled. “This place looks incredible!” She rushed towards me and engulfed me in a huge hug. She released me, looking me up and down and letting out a whistle. “Scratch that, you look amazing, way to make us mere mortals look like shit.” She glanced at Amy, who was busy chatting to Lucy and Ashley and making them drinks.
“Wowza, and Amy is making white look far from virginal,” she declared, impressed.
I laughed lightly. “You look killer, Rosie, where did you get that dress?”
Up close, the dress was embroidered with hundreds of little beads that sparkled in the light. I needed something like that in my wardrobe, not counting my hundreds of other little black dresses.
“Oh some thrift store.” She waved her hand. “It was way longer, but I gave it the chop and voilà! New dress! Enough about that. My brother is going to die when he sees you looking like that, seriously, I wouldn’t put it past him to carry you out, caveman style,” she giggled.
I blinked, shocked at the casual way she was talking about Cade in relation to me. As if we were a couple, not two people who barely knew each other, apart from making out at her party. And he was coming here? I definitely didn’t remember inviting him, I wasn’t insane.
I started with the obvious question. “Cade’s coming?”
“Well, yeah,” she said, like it was the obvious answer. “I told him about the opening today and he said him and the boys would definitely stop by, you’re here, free booze and hot bitches? Just try and keep them away.”
I barely restrained a snort, hard ass bikers at a clothing store opening? Yeah right. I began to ask her if she was actually serious when Amy and the girls came over, arms full of cocktails. Amy thrust a full glass into Rosie’s waiting hand and replaced my empty one.
“Right, bitches,” she interrupted. “I think it is time for a toast.” She thought for a second. “To new friends, new beginnings and new clothes!”
The women laughed, we clinked our glasses and downed a mouthful of the delicious brew.
“So, Gwen,” Lucy started after finishing her sip. “Are you selling that smoking dress somewhere in this lovely place, or am I going to have to rip it off your back? Because that is gor - geous.”
“Of course we have it, just in different colors, right over here.” I directed her to a rack full of dresses as Ashley and Rosie began to look through racks. Within the first five minutes, the three ladies had armfuls of clothes ready to try.
“Just to inform, you ladies,” I called over the doors of the fitting rooms as they were getting changed. “In New Zealand we have a thing called ‘mates rates’, which I assure you all you will be getting.”
“Rock on!” Rosie yelled from the middle stall and I laughed.
I had lost track of the amount of times I had genuinely laughed since being around these women, not just the fake ones I had forced back in New York. Amy must have been thinking something along the same lines, she glanced at me with a proud smile, and I saw a tiny glisten in her eyes. Before I was able to say something, Lucy came out of the fitting room, looking stunning in the black, shorter version of my dress and exclaimed, “I have to have this, seriously have to!”