Taken by You (Taken by You Book One) (20 page)

“
Ooh, tell me,” she said, like a kid on Christmas morning.

“
Do you think we’d be a good fit together? You know, like a true relationship? Boyfriend and girlfriend?” I asked.

“
Well, I don’t know. I don’t really know what he’s like. What I do know, however, is that he seems to make you happy. You’ve never spoken badly about him or had a fight with him or anything like that. Even when you’re first getting to know somebody and in that infatuation stage, you still have things about the other person you aren’t too crazy about, and if you had that I’m sure I would’ve heard about it by now. So I’d say yes, I’m sure you guys would mesh well together. Why? Has he said something?” she asked.

“
No, he hasn’t. Well, not outright, I guess. He’s been hinting at some things, but nothing that would be super soon or anything. I guess I’m just wondering if I want to do it, you know,” I said.

“
What? Are you fucking nuts? Why wouldn’t you?” she asked.

“
Because he’s not a normal guy, Nic, at least in the life sense. He has a huge apartment, expensive cars, drivers, chefs, and everything else you can think of. I think he even has a jet or something. Normal guys don’t have those things,” I said.

“
Screw normal guys! I’d kill for a setup like that,” she said.

“
But that’s just it, Nic. I don’t. I don’t care about all the fast cars and nice things. I care more about the person,” I said.

“
I care about that too, Penny. It’s just that it isn’t a negative to be dating someone who has those things. It can make your life a hell of a lot easier,” she said.

“
Maybe, but in some ways I think it can also make it a bit more complicated. At least for me,” I said.

“
To each their own. I just think if it comes to that point where you might date officially and be in a relationship, you should take it and run for the hills. At least experience it before you toss it aside,” she said.

“
Yeah, I guess you’re right. If it comes, I won’t toss it aside. I’ll see where things go,” I said.

“
That’s my girl. Are you going to finish that?” she asked, as she pointed to my half-eaten salad with her fork.

I shook my head and pushed it her way before she tore into it like some kind of vulture. Bits of lettuce fell out of her mouth as time was wearing down and she was going to have to be back in the office within fifteen minutes. She motioned for the check, which was promptly brought. I insisted on paying my half, though she declined, saying she invited me out and it was her treat. After arguing for a minute, she let me pay the tip, but I thought it was only so I would shut up and she could get back to work.

I left seven dollars and we put on our coats and walked outside, where she gave me a hug and said she’d see me tonight. I suggested a movie night and she told me to go find one to rent and that we could watch it later after her bath when she got home.

We went in separate directions as I walked back towards the bus stop so I could get home in the sanctity of a slightly warm vehicle and not the icebox that was San Francisco.

There were seven other people waiting with me. The bus came and we all got on, only to notice just a few seats open. I let an elderly woman who was at the stop with me have the seat I was going to take, and she thanked me and shook my hand. She was cute, with her hair covered in some kind of plastic wrap so it wouldn’t get messed up, and she had on green knitted mittens that were clipped to her coat the same way you had when you were a kid. I wondered what it would be like, or will be like for that matter, to be old and not to have to worry about the same things as everybody else.

I bet it was nice to sit back and know you’ve done your part and you’ve had a good life. I guess the whole “I might die soon” isn’t that fun to think about, but I guess you really can die at any time. This bus could crash and burn and nothing could stop that. It really made you want to make each moment special, and to spend those special moments with special people, or a special person, in my case.

The bus let me off after what felt like forever standing there. My feet were starting to burn a little, and my hand and arm hurt from keeping myself upright through all the turns and speed changes. With my hands in my pockets and my chin down in my scarf, I walked to my apartment and checked the mail box, though it was empty.

Hurting my feet even more, I walked up the five flights of stairs, nodded to a neighbor going down, and walked into our warm apartment, which had a French vanilla scent because of Nicolette’s new diffuser.

I sat down on the couch, put my feet up on the coffee table, and turned on the TV to some trashy talk show. What a busy day.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Penelope

I woke up on Sunday, the day of the gala event, with pure butterflies in my stomach. Bits of sunshine found their way through my white drapes as I stretched all the muscles in my body like I usually did before looking over at the clock. It was nine already, which was far later than I ever usually woke up. I guess being on break and having nothing of any real substance to do for an entire month would do that to you.

I checked my phone, though there were no messages. I knew Blake had a meeting this morning, his workdays never following the typical Monday to Friday, and he should be in it right now. We were supposed to ride together to the event so we could get out together when the cameras started flashing, and he said he was going to pick me up with Gustav around seven. I had ten hours to shower, primp, and get dressed, and I knew Nicolette was going to make me be like a normal girl and spend half of those ten hours just getting ready to the point of what she thought was perfection.

She was already in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal when I walked out of my bedroom and slid across the floor in my pink fuzzy slippers. I grabbed a banana, made some toast, and slathered on some almond butter before slicing the banana and layering it on top.

“
Don’t eat too many carbs today,” she said.

“
Why?” I asked.

“
I read in a magazine once that it can bloat you and make you retain water. Not sure if it’s true, but better to be safe than sorry. You don’t want to look like a whale in your dress,” she said.

“
I eat this almost every day and have never had problems. I’ll be fine,” I said, before taking a bite.

“
It’s your face in the pictures, not mine. If you want to look like a balloon, that’s your choice,” she said, rinsing out her bowl.

I rolled my eyes before continuing to eat my meal, not letting her get to me. I knew she wasn’t in the best mood after going out last night and seeing the guy she was talking to kissing another woman, so I thought it was best I just let her attitude slide. After all, I thought I’d be livid if I saw Blake out with another woman—especially if he was kissing her.

I sat around for most of the day looking over my syllabi for my upcoming classes that the professors posted online, then perusing the textbooks and trying to fill my time. I was already going to have an assignment tomorrow night, the first day, which I thought was a little cruel on the professor’s part. Wasn’t there a law somewhere that you can’t give homework on the first day? It was supposed to be getting to know one another and going over the rules.

“
You should start getting ready,” Nicolette said, as she peeked her head into my room.

“
It’s only three,” I said.

“
Yeah, but you need to shower, do your hair, do your makeup, and touch up your nails. I have a good polish that will work with the outfit you’re wearing. You also have to get dressed. It’s going to take a while,” she said.

I grabbed a fresh pair of panties and a bra before getting an older shirt and sweats that I’d wear up until I got into my dress. Our shower handle was hard to twist from the calcification that came with hard water buildup over who knows how long of a period of time. I twisted it, and a few flakes fell into the roaring stream of water that came from the faucet. One good thing about living in this apartment was that the water pressure was always incredibly high, like it was going to blast the skin off your body.

I stepped into the shower, feeling the rubberized pink flowers we had for grip, as the tub floor had nothing in terms of grip or support. Nicolette fell her first time in here, and I knew if I had gone first that day, I would’ve been the one on my ass.

I hummed to myself softly as the warm water cascaded down my body while it grabbed onto suds from my shampoo. We had a little window that looked at the back of the next building in the shower, but I never opened it because of how cold it was outside. The glass was frosty, but I still looked out of it, my nose filled with the scents of my coconut lemon conditioner I had just gotten a few weeks ago. It was so soothing, which was something I needed on a day like today.

I took about twenty minutes in the shower before turning off the water and drying off. My hair was so much more manageable now that it was shorter, and even though I was nervous at first, I was starting to actually like it—if not just for the convenience. I towel dried it a little and slipped into my clothes before opening the door and feeling the much cooler air of the apartment against the cloud of humidity I had built up inside the bathroom.

“
Finally done?” Nicolette asked.

She walked in behind me and I sat down on the toilet lid as she opened her bags and pulled out all her hair products, which were bountiful and a bit overdone.

“
What are you going to do with it?” I asked.

“
I’m thinking something with very loose waves and curls. Kind of that beach look, but very classy. It will be very well put together,” she said.

“
I trust you,” I said, before she grabbed a product and squirted it into her hands.

She ran it through my hair before grabbing another product and combing it through my hair while I kept my eyes closed. I heard her rinse off her hands before plugging in the blow dryer and turning it on. The warm air hit my face as I felt the waves from her jerking the dryer from left to right. I breathed in as she did, before her hands started to run through my hair, the tips of her fingers gently rolling along my scalp. That, mixed with the slight lavender smell of the products, made all the stress of tonight roll right off my body.

“
Your hair sure is frizzy,” she said, right after turning off the blow dryer.

“
I’m cursed, aren’t I?” I asked.

“
No, but I think I’m going to lightly straighten it and then just add some loose curls in. With your hair type it will work better and will be less likely to get messed up,” she said.

“
Sounds good,” I replied.

She heated up her flat iron, a hot pink one with cheetah spots on it, and started to section off my hair before straightening each chunk. She didn’t do it all the way, forgoing some of the areas, so it wouldn’t be stick-straight and would instead have some volume and texture.

She then plugged in her curling wand and sat on her phone while it heated up and the little light turned off. She took parts of my hair, just like she did with the flat iron, and wrapped them loosely around the wand for a few seconds before letting go and letting them fall forward. She only did the top layer, letting the bottom add more bulk so I didn’t look like Shirley Temple walking around with a super curly style.

She ran a little product through my hair again, and at this point I was beginning to wonder how much she could put in there before I just looked ridiculous. I was mostly a blow-dry-and-go type of girl, and I didn’t really bother with product in black bottles with gold lettering that’s extracted from the tears of crocodiles or whatever ridiculous thing she had now.

“
Your hair is complete,” she said, after almost forty-five minutes seemed to have passed.

I got up, looked in the mirror, and liked what I saw. My hair was elegant, beachy, and fun without being juvenile. She did a good job.

“
Now for the makeup. This will take a little bit longer,” she said.

“
Why, cause I need a lot of it?” I asked jokingly.

“
No, because I want to make sure it’s perfect,” she said, grabbing her makeup bag.

If there was one thing Nicolette was known for, it was makeup. She had loads of it, and always looked for samples and deals online so she could add to her collection. She claimed she wanted to be ready for any event or social situation, but I just thought she had an addiction and wanted to justify it somehow. She did get a lot of it for cheap, though, so at least she was thrifty about it.

She put cream after cream on me before dousing me with powders and colors and poking me with pencils and mascara wands. It felt like forever; my ass was starting to fall asleep from the hard toilet lid, and I was pretty sure I’d have a heart attack if she came near my eyes with one more pointy object.

“
Done,” she finally said, what felt like an eternity later.

I got up, looked in the mirror, and was floored by what I saw. I might have been in an old T-shirt and sweats, but I looked hot. My makeup was tastefully done, enough to tell you I was wearing it, but not enough to look like Blake’s high-priced hooker. I couldn’t believe it took this long and this much makeup to look this natural.