by Eme Strife
Nicole pulls out a plastic key card from her extra-large designer purse. She slips the rectangular card into the slot, and the bar beeps open with a blinking green light, audibly releasing the lock.
She pushes the door open and I walk in after her, still feeling a bit of apprehension and disbelief that I'm actually going through with this.
I've never been to Nicole's place before. I've never even hung out with her outside the bar, and I never in my wildest dreams imagined that I would be doing so under the current circumstances.
We walk right into her living room, and she immediately kicks off her shoes and carelessly flings her purse onto the nearest couch, releasing her hair from its ponytail as she heads toward a corridor.
"Make yourself at home, babe," she says. "There's wine and beer in the fridge, and some leftover pizza from yesterday. I'll be back in a minute with something for you to wear."
I whip my head in her direction. "Oh, I already brought some clothes with me," I say.
She turns to face me again with her hand on her hip and her brow arched in curiosity. "Yeah? Let's see what you got."
I fish out my grey one-piece pencil dress from my backpack and hold it up for her to see, feeling silently proud of the sophisticated cut and color of the attire. It's one of the best outfits I have.
Nicole cocks her head to the side, her recently freed hair moving with it right before she arches her brow again, but this time it's not because she's curious.
"Yeaaah…no," she says bluntly, making no attempt to veil her disapproval.
"What?! What do you mean, 'no'? This is like one of the best outfits I own!" I admonish, looking at it again as if I'm trying to convince myself of what I'm saying.
"Yeah, and we're attending a multi-millionaire's birthday party, not trying to give a PowerPoint presentation at a multi-millionaire's business deal meeting," she scolds sarcastically, using her usual animated hand gestures for added effect.
I can't help but scoff incredulously. "So what exactly do you guys wear to these things?" I ask, feeling a bit irritated that my poor dress just got shot down without so much as a second glance.
"Sit tight, Roni. I'll find you something. We're like the same size so I'm sure you'll be able to fit into my stuff," she says before walking away again, presumably to her bedroom.
"Wait, how are we the same size?" I call after her, my tone still incredulous, but I get no response. Knowing Nicole's typical style, I don't even want to think about what she's going to pull out of that closet of hers. I seriously have a bad feeling about this. About all of this.
"Oh lord, what kind of mess have I gotten myself into this time?" I mumble, resigning myself to whatever this surreal night brings with a sigh.
I look around, and my eyes excitedly drink in the sight of the spacious sitting area. I can't help but feel jealous of how chic and put-together it looks; with picture frames and flower-filled vases lining a glass coffee table and cream white countertops, and beautiful oil paintings hanging on the equally cream-white walls.
Her place really does look amazing, and I can't stop myself from comparing my owned cramped space of an apartment to this college student haven.
I head over to her fridge and take out a piece of cold anchovy pizza from its extra-large box. I'm surprised at how delicious it is, and before I know, I've had two more pieces.
I hadn't realized how hungry I was.
Come to think of it, I barely had anything all day with all the rehearsing we had to do, and all the anxiety I've been feeling lately only makes me hungrier.
I pop open a can of beer and drain half of it in one long slurp. The malty liquid is deliciously cool against my throat and easily washes down the tasty pizza in the best way. My eyelids flutter shut at the gratifying sensation.
The combo seriously feels like heaven right now. I can't help but groan in satisfaction.
"Glad I can help."
My eyes fly open as Nicole's voice comes through out of the blue, startling me so much that I almost drop the beer can.
I smile sheepishly, suddenly feeling like a little glutton for almost finishing her leftovers and drinking her beer like I don't have a care in the world.
She holds up a hanger, and my eyes travel to what's hanging from it.
She has a wicked smile on. "Try it on."
***
We’re in Nicole’s car again, driving toward our destination. The ‘good’ news is we’re making good time. The bad news is I can barely breathe in this thing she calls a dress. It’s way too short, and way too tight, but according to her, that’s a ‘killer’ combination.
I think I might agree with her, only the person who might end up dying here is me and not the men she thinks will be ogling me because of it.
I shift in my seat again, adjusting the dress I’m wearing for the hundredth time in an attempt to get somewhat comfortable, because that’s the most I can ask for. This dress was not made to be comfortable. That much is clear.
“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all that underneath those baggy clothes of yours this whole time!” Nicole exclaims for the sixth time—or maybe it’s the seventh. I’m not sure anymore. I lost count after her initial reaction when I first put it on in her apartment.
She’d literally screamed, to the point where I was ready to reach for my phone and dial 911 because I thought something had gone horribly wrong. But then her overly dramatic squeal was followed by the exact words, “Holy shit, Ramona, you’ve got tits and ass for days!”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I still don’t. To say that I was bewildered by her reaction would be an understatement.
“Jesus, those guys are gonna be falling over themselves trying to impress you tonight,” she says, bringing me back to the present.
“Gee, why doesn’t that make me feel better?” I counter, making sure she hears every bit of the snarkiness in my tone.
I try to sound unbothered by her words, but renewed anxiety is making my heart do flip flops in my chest at the prospect of several men eyeing me the way a pack of wolves would a huge piece of meat. I can’t stop the shudder that escapes me at the thought.
“All you need to do now is get rid of those granny panties you have on,” she says nonchalantly, ignoring my remark.
“Ugh, for the last time, they’re not granny panties, Nicole,” I say, feeling exasperated from her continuous picking on my underwear. “They’re cotton briefs!” I explain, as if telling her that for the umpteenth time is going to make her change her stance on the matter.
“If they’re not lace thongs, they’re granny panties,” she says coolly. “And I can’t let you go in there wearing outdated granny panties. This is my reputation on the line, here. Besides,” she adds with a wicked smirk, “why would you wanna cover up an ass like that?”
“My God, you sound like a guy,” I say, sighing in surrender. I seriously give up! There’s no use arguing with her over it.
She makes a quick detour, pulling up at some sort of boutique.
“Sit tight. I won’t be long,” she says as she pops her door open.
“Wait, wh—” I begin, but she heads out and slams her door shut before I can get another word in. I watch her sashay into the fancy shop, swaying her hips almost provocatively before disappearing through the glass door.
I sigh again, leaning my head back on the headrest and resisting the urge to bang it several times against the firm leather cushion.
A few moments later, Nicole comes back, easing herself into the driver’s seat once more.
“Here,” she says, casually tossing a brand new red lace bra and its matching thong my way. I look at the pair of items incredulously, along with the attached price tag, and then I shoot her an even more disbelieving look.
“You can’t be serious,” I say, my eyebrows arched so high that, if I’m not careful, they may very well assume their new positions permanently.
“As a heart-attack,” is her simple response.
“Nicole, look
at this!” I say with a hint of desperation in my voice, holding up the flimsy sheer fabric of the thong as if she didn’t just pick it out herself. “How the hell am I supposed to wear this? And why the hell does something so small cost this much?”
It’s so tiny that it’s barely even there. I mean, where the hell is the rest of it?! I might as well just go commando if this is what I’m supposed to be working with. Besides, thongs and I have never gotten along for a reason; they’re practically constant wedgies!
I mean, why the hell would anyone pay to get a frickin’ wedgie?!
I frown as I continue to regard the thong. “And even if I did agree to wear this, where I am supposed to change?”
“Well, right here, duh,” Nicole says, her tone still as nonchalant as ever.
I shoot her another incredulous look.
“What?” she says with her brow arched. “We’re both girls, here. Plus, I’ve already seen your goodies,” she adds with a grin. “Well…most of them, anyway.”
I feel my face burn at hearing her tease me like that. I know they’re just harmless words, but it’s still embarrassing.
I sigh in surrender once more, silently agreeing to take the plunge and just wear the damn things. I know she’s risking a lot for me with the Rainbow Service, and I don’t want her to feel like I’m being ungrateful.
I slide down the length of the seat, and the dress immediately rides up my thighs as I do, exposing more of my skin to the heated leather. I reach for the band of my panties under the dress and pull, avoiding any eye contact with Nicole as the briefs slide down my thighs and legs.
After quite a bit of fussing and uncomfortable body positioning while trying to remain discreet, I finally have the lecherous pair of lingerie on.
I stuff my other pair into my purse, and a part of me can’t believe I just changed my underwear right in front of Nicole—and in her car, no less.
I finally meet her eyes, and she still has that coy grin on her lips. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I can only shake my head in resignation.
She starts the engine up again, fixing her wand-curled hair in the mirror before zipping onto the road again.
She maintains the grin plastered on her lips. “Now you’re ready for a party.”
***
As we get closer and closer to the entrance, my eyes remain glued to my window as I admire the surrounding forestry. Tall, obscuring trees line up on either side of us, evenly spaced from one another, breaking up the monotony of the tar road with their rich, earthy colors.
I keep wondering how the hell these trees are so damn green with all the snowstorms we’ve been having.
A moment later, we finally arrive at the mansion, and boy, they weren’t kidding when they said mansion! The car slows to a halt, and we stop in front of the largest pair of gates I’ve ever seen in my life.
Jeez, if this is only what it looks like on the outside, I can't even begin to imagine what's waiting for us indoors. I didn't even know they had houses like this in Wisconsin! I feel like I'm in some extra-posh part of Beverly Hills or something.
We get to the security checkpoint a few feet away from the ginormous double gates. We pull up beside the check point window, and a man appears from behind it a second later.
His face comes into full view as he steps closer to the car, and I realize he's a pretty good-looking guy. He looks sharp, in a crisp black tuxedo that looks brand new. I also quickly realize that he's a security guard.
Holy hell. Even the freaking security guards are dressed like royalty here. He looks like something out of Men In Black— with a little bit of Abercrombie and Fitch thrown in. He's actually really hot.
Nicole pulls out a silver-plated card from her clutch and hands it to him, smiling seductively. He gives it a quick glance before sliding it through some sort of scanner, presumably to verify its authenticity.
The scanner beeps once, and the grand gates unlock with an almost robotic sound. The metal barriers part from each other slowly, raising themselves as if for dramatic effect.
I can't hide my amazement, feeling a little more than stunned at the impressive sight. It's almost as if the large, barred gates are reaching for the heavens. Considering how big this place is, I guess a dramatic entryway is quite fitting.
He hands Nicole her card back, giving her a flirtatious smile of his own with a nod of his head.
"Enjoy your time here, ladies," he says, gesturing with his hand before resuming his position behind the security check stand.
"Thank you, we will," Nicole says, still giving the security hottie her extra friendly smile. She slips him a piece of paper and gives him a wink just before she takes off again, driving through the imposing gates and into the compound.
***
We pull up to a large roundabout, and I can’t help noticing that several other cars are pulling up here as well—from expensive Lamborghini and Ferrari coupes and two-seater Bentleys, to large SUVs and Hummer limos, and all sorts of brand name race cars.
I suddenly feel extremely self-conscious and out of place. This is not at all my kind of scene. In fact, it’s the furthest thing from it.
I know Mindy said their clients were rich, but this was not at all what I was expecting. Not even close.
Nicole leaves the engine on and gets out, and I reluctantly follow suit, stepping out into the chilly night. A blast of cold wind blows over us, as if in harsh greeting, and I instinctively wrap my arms around myself.
I wish they’d let us bring our coats, but Nicole said it’s against the rules. Apparently, the idea is to get a client or one of his rich friends to offer you his so that you have a reason to see him again and another opportunity to “build your network.”
I can’t believe they actually consider that network-building. And I can’t believe I’m complying with the damn rule. Hell, I can’t believe I’m complying with any of this!
She hands the car keys to a waiting valet and he hands her some sort of gold coin in exchange. I'm assuming it's some sort of parking token.
As she gets things sorted with the valet, I take a minute to look around, and I'm stunned speechless.
My eyeballs immediately go on overdrive, screaming their appreciation as I can only gawk in awe at all the beauty surrounding me.
The place is absolutely spectacular!
The actual house—which kind of looks like several houses placed right next to each other—is insanely huge, with large rectangular and cylindrical segments stacked adjacent to each other to form this impressive, complex structure.
Violet, pink, and golden lights shoot across the cluster of mini buildings, illuminating the magnificent structure as well as brightening the quickly darkening night sky.
Dome-shaped rooftops sit high and proud on each section of the house. The large canopies look both sturdy and glamorous, their shingles reflecting the artificial lights beautifully.
I spot the source of light, and it's coming from the tallest segment, beaming from within the center of its dome. It almost looks like a lighthouse—with a super-sized, translucent disco ball in it.
"Come on," Nicole says, moving in the direction of the sea of lights.
I continue to admire everything as we walk, doing my best to take everything in without looking like a totally star-struck, country bumpkin—even if that's exactly how I feel right now.
The compound is littered with granite sidewalks and tall palm trees and marble support columns, and there's an illuminated fountain in the center of the roundabout.
I take a closer look at the eye-catching display, and I realize that it's actually a circle of glass cherubs 'pouring' water from vases that are also adorned with the same wings sprouting from the plump, baby angels.
Nicole suddenly turns to me, looking me up and down a few times as if she’s inspecting something.
“You look good, Roni,” she says with an approving nod, and then quickly adds with a coy grin, “I mean…Raven.”
Tonight, I
’m Raven.
Not Roni. Not Ramona. Not Sylvester Gallo’s granddaughter.
Just Raven.
It’s the alias Mindy chose for me as an extra, and I suppose it’s fitting as I’m not part of her agency…yet. She said if I make the cut, then I’ll get to choose my own Rainbow color alias. I really don’t know if that’s something I dread or look forward to.