She stepped into the cool night air and smiled at Sheila, who stood beside the limo’s open door, waiting. The once-over she gave Marina left her feeling like she’d forgotten to put on a dress at all.
“Well.” For once, Sheila seemed at a loss for words. “You look sensational, Marina.” She leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the cheek, and her hand rested on the spot that would have been left uncovered by the red dress.
Thank you, Cari.Marina inched back a little. “Your suit is fabulous.” And it was too. The tailored black jacket and pantssuited Sheila perfectly, even if the shiny bits on the lapels were a bit much.
“It is, isn’t it? I had it made the last time I was in Italy.” She motioned, and Marina ducked into the limo.
Plush leather seats, a bottle of champagne chilling in ice…it was exactly what someone like Sheila would have. Despite the fact that Marina was awed by it, she also felt the tendrils of her roots recoil from the lavish display of wealth. No. That wasn’t the way to think. The right way to feel about it was to acknowledge that she’d worked her ass off to be sitting exactly where she was, and one day, she’d be the one in Sheila’s position. Well, not in the sense that she forced people to go on dates with her, but the other stuff, for sure.
The champagne tickled her nose as she sipped, making her smile a little.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight. I know it was last minute, but I’ve been dying to see this show and some of my friends will be there, as you know. I’d like you to meet them.” Sheila’s penetrating gaze as she looked at Marina over the edge of her glass had all the subtlety of a wrecking ball.
“Do you always take your attorney to meet your friends?” Marina asked. She knew this game.
“Sometimes. If I feel the attorney in question has something to offer.” Her hand rested on Marina’s knee, her thumb stroking it lightly. “And I believe you have plenty in that arena.”
Despite the constant mental barrage of instructions to play this chess match with skill, she couldn’t help but recoil at Sheila’s touch. Not physically, obviously. That would have crushed every rung of the ladder she’d climbed so far, leaving her on stilts. But internally, she shuddered. “I’m glad you think so highly of me. Tell me about your love of the ballet.” Marina set the glass aside. Tonight was going to be all about keeping her wits intact, and alcohol didn’t help with that. The diversionworked, and Sheila went into a monologue about the various ballets she’d been to in different countries. She named dancers and critiqued moves and directors, and Marina nodded along like she had the faintest clue what was being talked about. When they pulled up at the theater, she was all too glad to get some fresh air.
They entered the building, and Marina took in the grandeur of it. They checked their coats, and Sheila led the way to the VIP area, where she air-kissed a number of people and ordered glasses of white wine for her and Marina. Thankfully, Marina remembered everything she’d gone over with Cari and was able to address them like acquaintances rather than strangers, even adding in bits of information that made them feel like she cared. These weren’t average people; they were people who ran global conglomerates and expected everyone to kowtow to them.
Marina laughed, offered little anecdotes about the theater, and mostly asked questions about the people who were talking to her. That always worked. Rich people loved talking about themselves and how good they were for the world as a whole. She also handed out more than one of her cards, which she’d stuffed into her reticule at the last second. Landing even one of them for the firm would skyrocket her to that office she wanted so damn bad.
A group of them made their way upstairs, and she ground her teeth but kept smiling as Sheila touched the base of her back. A member of staff opened a door to a private box with its own bar and eight seats.
“You’re certainly taking it slow tonight,” Sheila said, nodding toward Marina’s half-full wine glass. “I thought you’d be a little more of a party girl.”
“I can’t imagine what gave you that impression.” Marina hadn’t done anything to suggest that.
“Well, you being Latina and from the background you are, I figured you’d be a little more wild.” Sheila grinned, one perfect eyebrow raised. “That’s been on my mind quite a lot actually.”
Heat flooded Marina’s chest, rising to her face. Thank god the lights were dim so Sheila couldn’t see her embarrassment. Had Sheila really just implied that…that… What the fuck? The lights went down and the audience grew still. Orchestral music filled the room, and Sheila turned her attention to the stage, as did the others.
Marina’s stomach churned. Latina and poor meant wild and drunk? A party girl because she hadn’t grown up rich. Surely the rich girls partied far harder than those who had to work their asses off to be successful? Clearly, Sheila had some weird fantasy that included being with someone she considered so outside her orbit she might as well be an alien.
But she couldn’t have that argument. She couldn’t discuss social issues with someone who wouldn’t take kindly to being shown she was a racist and bigot. Taking a deep breath, Marina pressed her toes into her heels so they pinched, making her focus. Then she really looked at the stage and let the story and music take her to a better place. By the time the curtain fell, she had to blink back tears at the beauty of it all.
At intermission, there was light discussion about the show, with the others making small, snide critiques about this dancer’s thighs or that dancer’s lack of grace.
“I think they’re all stunning. Ethereal in a way that must take an unbelievable amount of effort.” Marina looked from person to person, all of whom looked bemused. “Can you imagine the daily work they have to put in? I certainly couldn’t take on something so physically grueling.”
“How sweet. I’m sure you underestimate yourself. I have no doubt you’re quite physically capable.”
The hungry look in Sheila’s eyes made Marina think of a cobra eyeing a baby deer. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to get some air. I think all the wine has gone to my head. I’ll be back in just a moment.” She smiled and left before anyone could offer to go with her.
It was far more crowded downstairs, and she was glad for the way it allowed her to dissolve into the mass of people. She made sure to make eye contact with one of the door staff when she realized she’d left her ticket in her purse. At least that way he’d remember that she’d come outside. She found a spot by a pillar and hugged herself against the chill in the air.
“I’m going to get a restraining order. I’m sorry, but I can’t have you following me around this way.”
A smile was already fully in place as she turned to face River. It faltered a little when she saw that she wasn’t alone, but she recovered. “Oh, I’m quite sure it’s you following me.” She held out her hand to the incredibly beautiful woman at River’s side. “Marina.”
“Cherry.” The woman tossed her long blond waves over her shoulder. “River, I’m too cold for this. I’ll see you inside.” She practically glided away, the long black dress hugging every curve and leaving no doubt she had no panties on. She was a walking waterfall, graceful, tall, flowing.
Marina grinned and tried to ignore the way she felt like an overdressed gnome. “Cherry?”
“Hey now. She’s nice.” River shrugged. “Cherry is a dancer with another ballet company. We went to high school together and, well…girls like that don’t often go for girls like me.” She grinned and looked Marina over. “At least, not in high school. I’ve been luckier as an adult.”
Marina swallowed at the look of appreciation in River’s eyes as her gaze swept over Marina. It was genuine, and so utterly different from the way Sheila looked at her. Not to mention,River looked edible in her suit and tie. “Yes, I can imagine,” Marina murmured, looking into River’s eyes.
