“Samantha Blake!” Ally screeched from her seat, but I held up a stopping hand. This was bound to be asked sometime. At least she’d had the balls to do it in front of Ally.
“No. I wouldn’t risk her happiness with you,” I said quietly and honestly. “I am here, though, to be near my friend. You don’t want to get in the middle of that, just like I won’t get in the middle of your relationship.”
We both stared one another down while Ally got up and paced back and forth next to us, like she was getting ready to jump into a cat fight. I wouldn’t do that to her. This was the woman she loved. I wouldn’t try to harm her, unless Sam did something stupid, of course. Hopefully, Sam was of the same mind, since I really couldn’t take her on. Too big for me. If I ever had to fight the woman, I would have to do it with more brains than brawn.
“Good enough answer, Sam?” I asked softly.
Her eyes sparkled in the light, but she nodded. She wasn’t completely satisfied, but she wasn’t going to brawl. Good.
Ally sighed in exasperation, but kissed Sam on the cheek. Guess she thought she was the bigger threat. Well…‘cause she was.
Ally picked up her cellphone and started dialing while I sat back and drank my water. Sam had brought coffee out, but I hated the stuff. Too bad. It didn’t smell half bad.
I listened to Ally purchase three tickets to the Brent’s event and tried not to get too excited. Brent and I hadn’t talked as much as Ally and I had over the years since he was so busy and out of the country often. I had no clue if he had moved on. I was hoping he hadn’t, but it had been nine years with only one visit stuck in the middle. Plus, he was a real catch.
He and three of his army buddies started up a security company here in New York, that was making major bank and on the side he took pictures and sold them at his own venues. He was doing great, just like I had hoped he would by getting out of Boverington – population 2,132. The last time I had seen him was when he gave me my very last gift five years ago after he had gotten out of the Army.
It was only a coincidence that Ally and Brent had ended up in the same city. She had work in Dallas, Texas for a year before being promoted in her marketing job and they had transferred her to New York. She and Brent had only met a few times here in the city – at least, that’s what they told me – and since she wasn’t into men at all, I knew they hadn’t done anything sexually without me. I had always been the glue that had held us together. And when I couldn’t follow with them, we had torn. Or more specifically, it had been me that had ripped down the middle.
They had waited as long as they could, but momma had taken too long to succumb to her lung cancer. Horrible of me to say to most folk, but then they hadn’t known her. Or the bastard. I pushed thoughts of him away. I didn’t want to focus any undue attention on him. Not worth it.
“When’s his event?” Sam inquired and I could tell she was trying to hold back her enthusiasm. Had Brent become so much, that he inspired people like this? If so, would he even want to see me again? I hadn’t done a whole lot with my life, other than endure. That had taken most of my energy.
Ally hesitated. Then she looked right at me. “Tonight.”
***
“You aren’twearing that, are you?” Sam’s accented thickened when I walked into the living room where they both waited.
“Sam!” Ally exclaimed and rushed on to say to me, “You look wonderful, honey.”
My head dropped so I could take another gander at my outfit. Okay, so I was a walking, talking, southern contradiction. I didn’t go for the southern flare that so many belles down south did. I was pure Goth – depending on my mood.
Tonight, I didn’t want to stick out so much, so I had went for a silver strapless shirt that hugged my size B cups perfectly. It looked like it had been splattered with black and red paint sporadically and hung over my black, slitted skirt perfectly. The slits ran up each leg to thigh level. I had on thigh-high knit sock in silver and clunky, black army boots that went to my knees. The slits showed maybe two inches on bare skin between where my socks ended and the top of the skirts material.
A knitted, black open sweater covered my shoulders to my elbows and all of my back, hanging loosely to where my shirt ended. I had a black, satin choker on that I thought looked great with my sleek, straight red hair that was cut severely at an inch below chin level. My bangs gave me a chic look and my dark make-up was the norm. Well, maybe I had applied silver to my lids a little heavily, but it matched my shirt and made my crystal, blue eyes shine.
I had worked hard on getting this outfit right, but now looking at what Sam and Ally wore I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t even own anything like what they were dressed in. They each wore cocktail dresses. One black. One white. They looked elegant and classy. They made me feel tacky and coarse and completely underdressed.
I had never been to a New York art venue before, but I hadn’t thought I had been too far off the mark. My family came from money, so everything I wore cost a bundle, but my style was nothing compared to what they wore. Or maybe it was how they held themselves. Confident and sure. Not exactly how I was feeling at the moment.
I tugged at the bottom of my shirt. “Maybe you have something that would fit me?” Doubtful, since they were so much taller, but if Sam thought I should change, perhaps I should.
“No, no. You look just fine. Ignore the Brit when she’d being a snooty bitch,” Ally said forcefully. I gaped at her, then Sam. Sam only stuck her nose in the air, pivoted, and strutted out the door.
“That was harsh,” I whispered as we followed, grabbing our purses. Hers was a small, black clutch that went with her dress and mine was a large vagabond, black bag that hung to my knees. I loved the thing. I had picked it up at Salvation Army. It went perfectly with my attire. Hmm, not a great thought. Sam was probably right.
“She knows when she’s being a bitch. I just voice it,” she explained calmly, her accent floating away. Had she lost so much? It seemed to come in and out like radio frequencies.
“Do I sound like a hick to you?” I asked worriedly as when caught up with Sam.
“No more than I do when I get pissed off,” she stated. At my looked of disquiet, she offered, “I’ve missed it.”
I grinned privately and tried not to laugh out loud at Sam’s furious look aimed at her ladylove. I wasn’t here to cause trouble. Really. No,really. But, I was going to talk to my friend however I wished, darn it all.
After we hailed down a taxi – no one wanted to drive their own cars through Saturday nights traffic – the three of us squeezed into the back and I watched the city fly by. I hadn’t gotten a great look at it in my mad dash to Ally’s place, so I sat back and took it all in. It was marvelous. No other words could describe it. I hadn’t been out of our little town…well, ever, so it was breathtaking.
I ignored Sam and Ally’s intimate, quiet talk, until Sam directly engaged me, “So, what are your plans for staying in the city? Do you have a job? Or a place you’re looking to rent?”
