I quickly don the dress before I can change my mind, matching it with a pair of five-inch stiletto, strappy gold sandals, and going a little more dramatic with my makeup than I usually do. I opt for a smoky eye with my new rose gold eyeshadow. It’s so new, I actually had to tear the plastic packaging off when I first sit down to do my makeup. Now, standing in front of my floor-length mirror, I’m struck by the same jitters as I was two days prior, when talking myself into wearing a bikini out in public.
Twisting and turning in the mirror, I observe how the dress lays on my body from every angle. It comes up about an inch higher in the back than in the front, thanks to the swell of my butt. While this almost makes me change dresses, or worse, opt for the jean shorts I had originally pulled out, I have to admit the heels I’m wearing make my already toned legs look divine.
I swallow the bite of nervousness in my throat and push out the breath I’ve been holding. I really need to get a grip. Wearing a dress and some heels for a night out to dinner and drinks is far from risqué.
You look cheap.His voice rings in my head. I’d lost count of the times my ex would make such a disparaging comment whenever I tried to dress sexy early on in our relationship. Eventually, I just stopped trying.
Shrugging, I push his words out of my head. He doesn’t get to dictate my attire tonight.
“Let’s go,” I finally say to myself. I give my hair one last glance to make sure I don’t need to gel down the baby hairs at my edges. Everything appears good to go. I strut toward the door, checking the time on my cell phone to make sure I’m not running late. I place my phone inside of the white clutch I carry, make sure my wallet and keycard are inside, and then step over the threshold, feeling strangely confident.
“There she is,” Tracey says excitedly as the doors of the elevator open to the lobby.
“Wow! Look at you,” Rose exclaims with wide eyes.
“Me? You both look stunning,” I compliment back, because they do.
The ladies laugh and do a spin, showing off the entirety of their outfits. They’re both wearing dresses that are fun and definitely flirty. Rose’s is a lot shorter than mine, and she’s paired it with leopard thigh-high boots. In this moment, I’m glad I opted not to wear the jean shorts and floral kimono blouse I’d originally chosen. I’d be way underdressed.
“Your turn. Spin for us!” she insists.
I do, and a smile crests my lips when I hear their cheers of approval.
“This must be where the party is!” a female voice interrupts. It’s the rest of our group. The other two ladies, Shawna and Jackie, chose to walk over from their hotel so we could all catch a taxi to the restaurant where we’re having dinner.
We all talk excitedly about the restaurant. It’s supposed to be one of the best in the area for fresh seafood. And seeing as how it’s located right on the beach, it’s no wonder.
“And next door is the salsa club I was telling you all about,” Tracey says after we pile into the taxi.
The driver overhears our conversation, and to our surprise, speaks pretty good English. He seconds what Tracey just said, informing us that the nightclub is where he first met his wife, some four years prior.
“Now, she is home pregnant with our secondhijo,and I drive taxi for extra money,” he chuckles.
Recognizing the Spanish word for son, my heart squeezes just a little.
There’s that look again,I think as I peer into the rearview mirror glancing at our driver’s eyes as he talks about his wife and son. Ever since Angela’s wedding, I swear I’ve been seeing that far off gaze with regularity. Either that or I’ve just been noticing it more frequently. And again, I’m brought back to the realization that after ten years with Matt, not once could I recall seeing that emotion in his gaze.
“We’re here,” squeals Rose.
Thank god, because another minute and I’d find myself lost in the trail of ugly memories. A road I refuse to go down while on vacation.
“Oops!” I yelp as I stumble out of the taxi and try to get my footing.
“Careful,” one of the women with me warns as she braces my arm to steady me.
I give Rose a smile. “Thanks. It’s been a while since I’ve worn heels this high.”
A slight frown adorns her face. “You better get used to it soon because we don’t plan on letting you sit down too much once we hit the dance club. Right, ladies?” she yells to the three other women with us, and they all whoop and clap in agreement.
A sliver of nervous tension courses through my belly at the thought of trying to dance in these heels. But I push it aside with thoughts of possibly faking feeling ill after dinner and heading back to my hotel. A coward move, I know, but I’ve pushed myself enough by coming to Cabo and hanging out with a group of women I just met … right?
“Mmm, smells delicious in here,” Jackie, one of the other women, hums as we enter the restaurant.
Immediately, my stomach begins growling, alerting me of my own hunger. And she’s correct, it does smell amazing in the restaurant. Thanks to the reservations that were made days earlier, we are escorted by the hostess to one of the outside lounge areas that is only a few feet from the white sands of the beach. Less than a hundred feet away are the crashing waves from the beautiful Pacific Ocean. Though it is dark I can still imagine the crystal blue waters.
“Earth to Janine.”
Blinking, I turn to find three pairs of eyes staring at me. I flash an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I tend to drift off into daydreams sometimes.”
