“Dude…that’s just…”
“What? It’s what?”
“I have this mental image now of my mom being a bro.” He scrubbed at his forehead. “I need to erase it, but the button is stuck. Erase, dammit!”
I threw my head back and laughed at the distress on his face. His skin was turning a weird shade of white/gray.
“El.” Vi’s hand reached across the table when the laughter turned to chuckles. “Axel’s right, you should go. It’s only a semester at first. You never know, you might hate it.”
“True,” I murmured.
She smiled. “Think of it as a trial.”
“I…” I looked over at Chad. “I dunno. I’m gonna think about it. I still have a couple days before I have to give Mrs. Lang my answer.”
The waiter shuffled over, placing our dishes in front of each of us, and as soon as the succulent chicken touched my lips, I groaned. “Mmm, I love the chicken here.”
All I ever needed were my computers, my pajamas, and The Bachelor. Oh, and some notepads, pens, and highlighters thrown in there too.
There was a time not long ago when I went out nearly every night. Especially in college, because that was what it was for, right? To get drunk every night and attend every lecture hungover with a huge vat of coffee. Not to drink though. Just to smell. I loved the aroma of freshly ground coffee. It was an addiction. I’d sit in The Coffee Hut on campus just to breathe in the fumes. Sometimes I’d order one too so I could get an extra hit, but I never ever drank the stuff. It tasted vile. Like dirt mixed in with extra dirt.
In short, I loved to go out, but since moving here and starting my business, I had neither the time nor energy to go out like I used to. But now I was here, dressed up and ready to hit the town when all I really wanted was to get started on the new website I needed to build.
My cell ringing snapped me out of my head. When I looked down at the bed, I saw Chad’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hey,” I answered, walking into the living room and huffing out a breath as my ass hit the arm of the sofa. My gaze settled on the huge standing mirror in the middle of the room and I raised a brow at myself. My blue hair had faded to a pastel color, but I was kind of lovin’ it right now. Makeup was pasted on my face, and my arm ached from picking up the shovel to load it on. I wasn’t even sure what shade my skin was underneath all the foundation, concealer, and buckets of powder.
“Hey, baby girl.” I rolled my eyes at his nickname, but the smile spreading across my face couldn’t be stopped. “Just wanted to check in before I lock my cell away.”
“Check in?” I raised a brow. “You’re making me go out with these...” I wrinkled my nose, “people.”
“You’re so dramatic.” I could hear the laughter in his voice. “It’ll be fine. Have a couple of drinks with them and then leave.”
I stood and threw my arm out to the side. I side-eyed the stupid sculpture in the middle of the coffee table. I hated it with a passion. It had zero use, and yet it took up most of the space. I didn’t even know what it was meant to be. It just looked like a big blob of nothingness to me.
“You know what these—” My cell beeping cut me off. I pulled it away from my ear and groaned as Beatrix’s name flashed on the screen with a new message. I groaned. “Ugh. Looks like they’re here.” I wanted to curse him out with every name I could think of. These weren’t even my freaking friends! They were his, and yet I had to go into the outside world and interact with people. Ugh. I hate people. They were so…peoplely.
“You know I’d come if I could, but this new gig could take me places.”
I let out a slow breath. “I know. I just…really dislike them.”
He laughed. “Have fun, baby girl.”
“I’ll do no such thing. Your friends are a nightmare.”
“Just…” I heard him take a deep breath over the line. “Just do this one thing for me…please.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him all I ever did was stuff for him. My whole goddamn life had started to revolve around him, and it wasn’t that I hated it, because ninety-five percent of the time I loved the life we’d made. But it was the five percent I resented him for.
“I gotta go, baby girl. Have fun and call me when you get home. I won’t be back until late.”
“Fine.” I hung up and stared at myself in the mirror for several seconds. I could totally do this. It was one night, that was all. And this time next week I might not even be here to be able to do things like this for Chad. That thought had me straightening to my full height of five foot four. Okay fine, five foot three point six. They always taught us to round up in math.
I really wished Vi wasn’t out on date night with Axel. At least then I wouldn’t be surrounded by privileged dicks and dickesses on my own.
I huffed out another breath as my cell vibrated in my hand with Chad’s friend’s name. “Okay, okay! Jeez.” I took one last glance at myself and the red, off-the-shoulder dress I was wearing. It gripped my curvy hips, making them look bigger than they actually were. They were already big, and this dress wasn’t helping any. I felt like a sack of potatoes tied up in the middle. Everything clashed. My blue hair. The bright-red dress. My yellow heels. Did I care though? Hell to the no. If I had to go out with these snotty-ass bitches, I was gonna dress how the hell I wanted. And that meant color.
Lots and lots of color.
I picked my clutch bag up off the sofa, pushed my cell inside, and strolled out of my apartment and down the three flights of stairs. I practically rolled my eyes when I saw the huge stretch limo sitting out front with a guy standing at the door, waiting to open it.
Smiling at him, I stepped forward and into the limo when he’d opened up the door.
“Ella!” Arms were flung around me, and I almost fell backward from the force. “Are you ready to party?”
I pulled back, lifting my lips into a huge fake-ass grin as I stared at Beatrix. Her platinum blond hair was curled to perfection, and her nude-painted lips looked twice as big as the last time I saw her. “I sure am.”
“Woo!” She fist-pumped the air, swallowed a huge glug of champagne with her new lips, and flopped onto the seats.
Out of all of Chad’s friends, Beatrix was the nicest, and even that was saying something because she was a bitch of epic proportions. You hadn’t partied until you’d partied with the young and rich of New York. It was a whole different breed over here. They went at it hard. And I meant hard.
“It’s such a shame Chad couldn’t come with,” Layla commented, her posh voice grating on my nerves. “Where did he say he was?”
My lips pulled into a sneer as I stared back at her, the complete opposite to Beatrix. Her midnight-black hair was straight, hanging down to her waist, and her thin lips were spread into a grimace.
“He—”
She raised her perfectly shaped brow and flipped her hair back. “I’m sure he’ll meet up with us at some stage, ya?”
I curled my top lip, pushed back the retort on the tip of my tongue, and snatched the bottle of champagne from Beatrix. If I was going to have to put up with these people all night, the least they could do was supply me with the alcohol I’d need to survive.
Tonight was going to be a long-ass night.
Was it over yet?
We pulled up outside the first place we were partying, and everyone piled out of the limo, me last. They were laughing and joking, and sneering at the “normal” people waiting in line outside. The hair flips and hips swishing back and forth made even me envious. How could they be so oblivious to anything around them? I didn’t think they were though. They knew exactly what they were saying and doing.
The rope was pulled aside for them, the doorman not even making eye contact. I was sure he was used to this and knew not to even question it.
“Hi!” I lifted up onto my tiptoes, waving my hand in front of his face. His head slowly moved, his eyes seeming to follow a second after as he raised a brow. “Thanks so much for le
tting us in.” I turned to face the line that wrapped around the building. “I’m sure there are people who have been waiting for a long time.”
I made a sad face to the people standing at the front of the line. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the perks of being with Chad and his friends. Mainly the places they could get into without having to wait like us normal people, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t relate to them. Standing in the freezing cold with barely any clothing on sucked huge balls.
Growing up, I was always the outsider, the one who didn’t fit in, but the one thing I had was my mouth. I could talk the hind legs off a donkey, so I used it to my advantage whenever possible. People always remembered the person who talked to them for hours on end about everything and anything.
“I’m Ella,” I said, pointing at my chest and tilted my head to see if I could see a name tag—did doormen wear name tags?
“Deon,” the guy replied. “You going in?”
“Oh!” I laughed. “Yeah, I just wanted to say thanks.” He tilted his head, his lips lifting at the corners as he waved his arm. I strolled through the door and shouted, “Have a good night!” past the coat check and opened the next door, walking into—was this a drag bar?
My eyes widened as I took everything in: the packed bar, the stage where a drag queen stood singing a Tina Turner classic. I had no idea where Beatrix and all her followers were, but I couldn’t seem to care. I rolled my eyes when I finally spotted them in a corner with bottles of alcohol on the VIP table. I knew I’d have to go over there at some stage, but I needed to work my way up to that.
Heading toward the bar that lined the left wall, I wiggled my way through the crowd and finally made it to the wooden surface. I leaned my arms on it and ordered my drink, watching while the dude made my fancy cocktail, shaking the thingy and doing some kind of dance before getting a small strainer and placing it over a glass and then pouring the contents into it.
“Thanks,” I said when he placed it in front of me. “Is it always this busy?”
“On a Friday night?” he asked, not waiting for an answer as he grabbed more bottles and started making another cocktail. “Always. You came on a good night though. Our main act is playing.”
“Yeah?” I turned slightly, looking around at all the people starting to sit in front of the stage. “Who’s the main act?”
“Someone new. I heard they’re awesome.”
I turned back to face Bar-Dude. “Sounds intriguing.”
Taking a sip of my drink, I kept my gaze focused on the people around the bar, and as soon as a seat emptied, I plopped my ass into it. There was no way I was going to stand in these heels all damn night. I rarely wore anything on my feet, and they were already waving a red flag and screaming for help. I didn’t know how all these normals wore shoes all day long. Fuck that. My work uniform consisted of pajamas and bare feet. Occasionally I’d put leggings or yoga pants on, but it was a rare occasion. And don’t even get me started on bras. Why the hell were they so uncomfortable? Guaranteed a man made the contraption. They had no idea how hard it was being a woman. That was for damn sure.
I kept sipping my drink and pulled my cell out, smiling wide when Bar-Dude placed another cocktail in front of me. I scrolled through all of my notifications on my lock screen, deciding I’d reply to messages in the morning, and clicked on the camera app. Placing my drink at an angle and my hand on the base of the glass—thank the good lord that I tended to my nails today. I could go for weeks at a time looking like a hobo with my hair not washed, my nails chipped, and my legs so hairy they resembled Chewbacca.
I snapped a picture, added a filter on that bad boy and posted it to Instagram. Chuckling at my caption, I shook my head. I couldn’t be more bored out of my mind, but it was all about perception. If you thought someone was having fun, then you gained an impression of them. Sometimes, I just wanted to post a selfie of the way I looked after working on websites and graphics for ten hours straight: a full-on mess. But I owned that shit.
“And now…the act you’ve all been waiting for!”
I lifted my glass to my lips and took a sip of the fruity goodness as the room went crazy with hoots and hollers, chanting.
The opening beat to “Vogue” by Madonna started, and I closed my eyes, swaying side to side and bopping my head. Wondering if they’d do the song justice because most people murdered it...slowly and epically, I spun around on the bar stool to face the stage but couldn’t see much.
And then they started to sing.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I’d know that voice anywhere.
I stood, looking around and nearly knocking several drinks over as I darted away from the bar. This couldn’t be happening. Not with them here.
I couldn’t see much apart from a sea of glitter from this viewpoint. The last thing I wanted to do was push my way through the crowd, but if they found out…
I didn’t even want to predict what could happen.
“How’s everyone doing tonight? I’m Ivory Fox, and I think it’s time to get this party started!”
The background music started to merge into “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” by Whitney, and I had to stop my body from automatically moving. Damn him for having such awesome taste in music. All I wanted was to throw my hands up in the air along with everyone else and sing along, but I couldn’t. I needed to get back to the people who thought they ran this city and try to get them out of here before—
Ivory came into view, and the second her eyes met mine, they lit up like a Christmas tree. I knew exactly what she was going to do before she took the steps down off the stage. The crowd parted for her, and I couldn’t seem to move my feet. I was stuck, my brain not able to send the signals to my mouth and limbs to warn her. I saw our lives flashing before our eyes, and it was scary to think what would happen when it was all out in the open.
People liked to think they were open-minded and not judgmental, but it was a front they put on. However much people denied it, it was still there in the back of their minds. And it was the reason I did what I did—to protect him from that.
But as Ivory got closer to me, reaching her hand out and flashing a huge smile, she faltered. I saw the exact moment she understood what my body wasn’t telling her because she spun around, looking at the VIP area. Only they weren’t paying us any attention as I whispered, “Chad.”
He nodded, his perfectly applied makeup concealing his worry. He turned around and headed back onto the stage.
My stomach dropped, and I knew exactly what I had to do. I put one foot in front of the other, walked to the VIP area, threw my arms up, and shouted, “I’m bored here! Let’s do a round of shots and go to Bliss.”
“Hell yeah!” was their response, and then a shot was handed to me, and I was downing it, knowing this night was not going to go how I had it planned.
Chapter 4
Confession #95: It’s normal to fangirl and ask if they wash their hands too, right?
I was obsessed with that company whose logo was a fruit, but there was one thing no one ever told you about them. If you had all their devices, and were using them all at once and then got a call, your life was over.
Okay, so that was dramatic. But I was a drama queen, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. It was my favorite pastime.
I was sitting at my desk in the corner of my room, happily binge-watching the latest Netflix original series on my iPad, while messaging with a client on my cell, and making a graphic on my iMac. So when a FaceTime call came in, you know what happened? That sucker rang on all three of my devices. Now, I was a fruit-logo lover, I always had been, but for Pete’s sake, they’re all within inches of each other, and now all my devices were going crazy because of one call.
Miriam’s name flashed on the screen of all of them, and it took me several seconds to figure out which device to answer her on. It was a true dilemma, but my brain finally clicked into gear and clicked accept on my iMac.
“Hey!” I pasted on a huge smile, although i
t turned genuine once I saw her worried face and big, puffy hair.
“Ella,” she whispered, looking around and biting her lip. “I think someone is trying to break into my house.”
I frowned and tilted my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
She jumped at a noise and started to run up the stairs. At least that’s what I thought she was doing from the noise and the stairs that appeared in the background on the screen as she moved.
“Miriam.” I sat up straight and opened the message app on my cell. “It could be Marcus—”
“It’s not!” she shouted, grasping at her dark, frizzy hair as she halted. “It’s not time for him to be home.”
“But maybe—”
“Oh my gosh! They’re opening the door.” Her eyes widened, the genuine fright shining in them.
My heart pumped harder in my chest, almost as if I was afraid for her, but not for the reason you’d think. I was like ten percent sure that it wasn’t someone trying to break into her house in the middle of the day. I was afraid because I knew she was getting worse. Miriam had Alzheimer’s. She’d been diagnosed a couple of years ago, but she’d gotten worse just before Christmas.
Our usual Tuesday calls hadn’t stopped, but now there were more times she’d call me. She’d pulled back from all the men in her life—her husband and two sons—and instead, she’d started to confide in me. She couldn’t tell them that she was scared to lose her memories that she guarded so closely, and she needed someone to know what happened in her life, but from her point of view. Plenty of times she’d tell me stories from when Chad and Axel were younger, or how she had met Marcus, her husband.
“Miriam,” I said, using a soft, gentle tone. “Take a deep breath. It’s probably Marcus.”
“But—”
“I bet he’s come home early from work. Maybe he forgot to tell you.”
I quickly typed out a message to Marcus.
Ella: Miriam thinks someone is breaking into the house. Is it you?
Confessions Of A Chatterbox (Confessions Series Book 2) Page 4
