Yet there was that voice echoing through my head, the voice that had been with me constantly since it was resurrected in my memory from the sound of Amber’s message. She guided me now like she’d guided me back then. “Which would Reeve prefer?”
My gaze stayed steady in the mirror, but I wasn’t seeing myself anymore, lost to a memory so vivid it was as if it were happening now. It was Amber’s eyes in the reflection, squinting as she applied thick mascara to her long lashes.
“Find the thing that makes him notice you and put all your attention there.” She smacked her glossed lips together and then turned her focus to me. “If he’s only interested in your ass, wear a pair of tight jeans and you’re done. He won’t care what’s on your face if he’s only looking at it until he can get a peek at your behind.”
She’d been seventeen when we met. Vibrant, beautiful, daring. Wise, I’d thought. Aware in ways that I wasn’t. I didn’t know yet that the uncle she visited on the weekends wasn’t a blood relative or that his gifts were what she lived on. I didn’t know that the reason she’d turned up in my life, the reason she’d moved onto the couch of the dealer next door was because she’d run away from home, from the man who’d taken her virginity at the age of nine – her father. I only knew that she’d shown up in my dull, lackluster, impoverished world and she’d glistened. I was fascinated with her instantly. Awestruck. Enamored. Fuck, I was practically in love. I would have followed her anywhere.
And I had. I’d followed her everywhere, through everything. Until, I couldn’t anymore.
I blinked my eyes, dismissing the memory before the guilt started to taste sour in my mouth. Not for the first time, I wondered if the clarity of my recollection of Amber meant that she was no longer in this world. If she was… gone – I couldn’t bear to think the actual “d” word – then I would expect her to haunt me. She was good at that in life, how could she not be in the after?
Her pseudo presence was a double-edged sword. It both helped and distracted. Reminded and ridiculed. I needed her because she’d created the person I was before, the person I needed to be now. I just couldn’t let those thoughts overwhelm me. Couldn’t let her overwhelm me. Not again.
I cringed as I spoke to the air – spoke to her. “I’m sure you’re going to be with me a lot, Amber. But you’ve got to give me my space.” I caught my eye in the mirror and shook my head. “Now I’m talking to invisible friends. Twenty-nine is a fine age to go crazy, isn’t it?” It would be funnier if mental disorders weren’t in my genetics.
At least I knew what I was doing about my lids.
Sighing, I reached for a makeup remover towelette and wiped away the shadow and liner from the more sultry eye. Reeve had already shown himself to be a tits man. The seductive eyes were overkill as long as I wore the right clothes. Which I would.
I finished up my look with a very subtle blush and a pale lipstick before stepping into my dress. I’d told Reeve earlier that I had the perfect outfit in mind for our date, but it was a lie, and not the first that I’d told him. I’d figured out enough about him to know just what would be perfect. A few hours spent at the outlets and I’d found it – a simple peach A-line that hit low thigh. With its full skirt, it looked more flirty than slutty except where the neckline dipped at my bosom. It wasn’t a very low plunge, but it didn’t take much to make my breasts stand out, which was the goal. It had been a carefully thought-out purchase, yet it was plain enough that it seemed it might be something I’d plucked from my closet.
After I had it on, I checked myself once more in the mirror. My hair was tied up in a casual knot, my lips done in a long-lasting matte, and my skirt moved easily. I looked casual and chic, but I was one hundred percent dressed for sex.
Shoulders back, Amber’s memory whispered at my ear. You look good. He’ll be putty in your hands.
“I hope so,” I said out loud again. “For your sake.” Whether I was talking to my reflection this time or the memory that clung to me in recent weeks, I wasn’t sure.
Although the Sallis Palm Springs Paradise Resort boasted over 250 acres, it was only a five-minute walk to the Cherry Lounge from my suite. I left early so that I could take my time getting there. Still, when I arrived, my forehead was damp and my heart rate elevated – but it was just as likely that was from nerves as it was from the activity. At the door, I paused at the sign that read CLOSED FOR PRIVATE ENGAGEMENT wondering if I should knock or just walk in. Not wanting to appear tentative, I settled on the latter. I wiped my brow with my palm, took a deep breath, and tried the handle. It turned.
As soon as I stepped inside, I was greeted by one of the henchmen that always seemed to accompany Reeve Sallis. They appeared in several pictures that I’d seen of him when I’d scoured the Internet for any bit of information I could find on the man. This particular guard was tall and serious. Hard. The edge of a dragon tattoo snaked up his neck from under the collar of his dress shirt and there were two noticeable scars that decorated his face. His dark suit jacket was tight enough that I could make out the bulge of his holster at his hip. An earpiece dangled from his ear like jewelry, but I imagined the device networked him with all the other Sallis minions.
“That way, Ms. Wayborn,” he said without any welcome in his voice, gesturing across the restaurant. “Mr. Sallis has asked for dinner to be served on the outdoor patio.”
I nodded, then set off in the direction he’d indicated. That had been yet another of Amber’s lessons. “You have to set yourself apart from the help. You have to show that you’re different. That you’re worth more than the people who scrub the floors and cook the food and drive the cars.”