I reached for the mascara wand, and applied it to my lashes while Morgan began to apply her own makeup. After a few minutes the two of us were ready, and heading towards the door. I pulled my cell out of my purse when we got into Morgan's car and sent Derek a quick text. These kinds of things tended to run long so I told him that I'd be crashing with Morgan tonight. He replied instantly, telling me how much he'd miss me and I smiled to myself. He really was the perfect man.
Derek was understanding, and forgiving to a fault. In college our relationship was really put to the test. I studied non stop, and often times I just didn't have time for him. Instead of letting that get to him though, he only tried harder. He'd bring me study snacks, and drop by with dinner when he knew I was studying late. He never tried to deter me, and always pushed me to be better. He wasn't boring, he was sweet, and attentive when he wanted to be.
“What did lover boy say?” Morgan asked, knowingly.
“Just that he'd miss me tonight.”
“Of course he will, he's probably going to sit at home and watch re runs of South Park.”
“You do realize that was in high school, right? His tastes have evolved a bit since then.”
She laughed. “Whatever you say.”
“Just drive the damn car.” I laughed back.
The restaurant we were heading to tonight was new in town, and it had a bit of a reputation. After eight PM, it turned into more of a dance club which really piqued Morgan's interest. After a stuffy meeting with an old fogey in a suit, unwinding was a good way to decompress. I wasn't a clubbing, dancing, and drinking all night kind of girl, but I had been known to indulge on occasion.
When we finally pulled into the parking lot of Fahrenheit it was already pretty busy. Thank God for reservations, I thought as Morgan expertly backed her Audi into a vacant parking space. When I climbed out of her car, I adjusted my dress so that my cleavage wasn't too distasteful, and held my clutch with both hands over my middle. I don't know that I'd ever feel comfortable in my own skin, and I shivered as the two of us walked towards the entrance.
Waitresses were practically sprinting with their trays, and the patrons all seemed to be enjoying themselves. I noticed a vacant dance floor on the other side of the bar, but no one was on it yet. It must open after eight to adjust to a different type of crowd. As a marketing major, I thought it wasn't a bad idea. A mullet approach if you will. Business in the front, party in the back. I laughed to myself as a waitress took us to our table, and removed the reserved sign.
“How much is this place costing us tonight?” I asked.
“Don't worry about it.” She winked, pulling out her trusty American Express card.
“Doesn't that thing have a limit?”
“Not that I'm aware of. Daddy just keeps paying the bill.” She shrugged.
“Wasn't it for emergencies though?” I asked, arching a brow.
“Schmoozing investors is an emergency, Ronnie. Our future depends on it.”
“I wish I could justify things the way that you do.”
“You know my dad went MIA when I was three. If giving me a black card, and footing the bill makes him feel a little less guilty, who am I to deny him?”
I laughed, just as the man we were meeting with approached our table. He had to be close to eighty, and I started to wonder where Morgan had even found him. I stood to shake his hand, and he smiled at me warmly admiring my engagement ring.
“Congratulations.” He said, before the two of us sat down together.
“Thank you, Mister Harrington.” I smiled politely. “Would you like me to grab you a drink from the bar?”
“No thank-you, dear. We'll just wait for the waitress to come by.” He winked.
“Alright then.” Morgan said, clapping her hands together. “Let's get down to business then, shall we?”
I internally cringed. The woman could turn a wet paper bag into something couture, but her people skills were seriously lacking. Luckily, Mister Harrington laughed before reaching for her hand across the table.
“I like you.” He winked. “Any chance you're looking for a sugar daddy?”
Without missing a beat she returned his wink. “I already have enough daddy issues, Mister Harrington.”
He laughed again, and to my relief the actual business talk started soon after. Turns out he's worked with up and coming designers before and after seeing Morgan's portfolio, as well as my mock ups for ads and marketing plans he seemed genuinely impressed. After paying for his steak, and lobster as well as a bottle and half of wine, our schmoozing was finally over. He promised to reach out to us the first of the week, and that was all that we could hope for.
It was nearly eight now, so of course Morgan wanted to stay to check out the club scene. We took our bags, and documents out to her car and then she dug around in the trunk, and pulled out a bag of clothes.
“What's all this?”
“We can't wear our business attire to go dancing.” She said, as if I were a complete moron.
“Of course not.” I humored her.
“Here.” She said, tossing an outfit at me. “Follow me.”
There was no use in arguing with her. I'd learned a long time ago that it was just easier to submit, because I'd always end up right where she wanted me anyway. So, the two of us went back inside the restaurant, and directly to the bathroom. Of course the shoes that we had on matched our new outfits. The woman was a fashion guru. I wound up in a pair of black leather leggings, and a silk navy tank top that dipped so low you could almost see my navel. I had to take
