The limousine is long and black where it sits in the lot on Annabelle Drive. I see it from over Trey’s shoulder and feel the small thrill at the sight of it. That is for me, tonight. I let my eyes come back to Trey, who is having his own reaction to the sight of me in my little black dress. I watch his eyes traveling all the lines of the dress where it intersects with my skin, and I blush. I hold myself very still, not willing to break this moment. I can see in his expression how beautiful he thinks I am. When his eyes finally make it back to my face, he is as pink as I am. He cups my face with his hands and leans in to kiss me. All the bones in my body quiver and threaten to go liquid, and I put my arms up around his neck, remembering what I like so much about him. He lifts me off the ground and turns me, and my skirt flutters out. When he sets me down, I still feel the motion of the world, and I put my hand on his arms to steady myself. My little book says only celery with five hash marks. I wanted to be thin for tonight.
Cici and David are there, too, talking about the champagne.
We make our way to the limo, and the driver is waiting for us with the door open. The interior of the car is shiny with small strips of light accenting what turns out to be a liquor cabinet. A chilled bottle of champagne sits uncorked and breathing in an ice bucket. That was the faint sweetness I had tasted on Trey’s tongue: champagne. Trey and I sit together in the very rear seat, and Cici and David sit opposite us in the facing seat. I don’t know if Cici and David are dating, but they are very comfortable. David lifts the champagne and offers us clear plastic cups with the effervescent liquid bubbling up the sides.
We click a toast to the new year, and we drink. The champagne is not sweet, but is has a lot of sweet undertones that continue to dance on my tongue long after the liquid has moved down my throat. I didn’t bring my book, but I make a mental hash mark next to champagne. The bubbles bounce through my blood, having completely bypassed setting a fire in my stomach. Trey talks, we talk, Cici and David talk. It is a conversation had by four, and all the while, his hands touch me. My leg, the curve of my hips under the black fabric. Cici sees it and winks at me. Even when he goes to reach for the champagne bottle, his fingers slip down to the curve of my ankle.
“It’s not really a big town,” Trey is saying of Aspen, where he has been for the better part of three weeks. “You have to take this little prop to get into it, because the airport is a rare flat space surrounded by mountains. It can be a little harrowing. I thought Jenny was going to be sick. Pretty turbulent.”
I don’t know what a prop is, and I don’t care; it has something to do with flying in and out of Aspen, and I just want to hear him talk, with his big words and his educated speech patterns.
The champagne is singing in my veins, past my empty stomach, and when he leans in to kiss me, I am more than happy to reciprocate. This is my life. I am the prettiest girl, loved by the handsomest man, taking a limousine to Los Angeles for the MTV’s New Year’s Eve Bash, one of the biggest parties of the season.
Time slips, and it feels like no time at all when we arrive. The driver takes us through a makeshift gate and stops, stepping out to open the door for us. There are photographers waiting outside the velvet ropes, cameras flashing, and I wonder how big this thing really is. Is this some star-studded event that will be plastered across the glossy magazines over the next week? Will my name show up, preceded by “Model,” in all the rags that cover Hollywood and celebrity life? Trey takes my hand to guide me to the sidewalk. I am every bit a princess, a slightly tipsy, a little bubbly, princess. I keep my head up, looking directly at the cameras, posing, just a little, but not so Trey will notice. The chaos of the moment washes over us. The champagne buzzes in my head, and I lean into him, with a small hiccuping giggle. I am that girl tonight. I am that giddy, love-struck, foolish girl, charmed by the glamour of the flashes and by the soft fabric of my dress rubbing against my bare breasts.
The chaos of the entryway is nothing compared to the crush of people inside. Beautiful, glittery people, and I am one of them. I keep my chin up—I belong. We are the beautiful ones. There is no dirt on me, no taint from my childhood.
A long-haired man with a shadowed beard, looking like he hasn’t bathed in days, catches my eyes as we come in. He is flanked by two beautiful women, each vying for his attention. His eyes travel my body, landing again on mine. A small smile touches his lips, and he nods, knowing I have seen him checking me out. He is unabashed.
There are multiple stages, and each stage has a different band. The music crashes into the lobby in cacophonous sound. We move through the crowd, and David and Cici peel away, heading toward one of the stages.
It is so loud. Trey leans close, his lips brushing my ear. “Do you want one?” A server is passing by, and Trey reaches for two glasses, handing me one, holding his up to me in a silent toast. The bubbles bounce on my lips. Champagne now with three marks beside it in my mind. We dance, he and I, in slow, undulating moves, our own rhythm. His hands slide over the fabric of my dress, and he seems unable to get enough. The alcohol in my blood lets me love the press of his body, the press of anonymous people around us. We kiss deeply, and he lifts me, so light, off my feet. My legs wrap his waist, my arms around his neck. My mouth is so hungry for him. So hungry. My back bumps against a wall, and we’ve moved up against a corner. But for the fabric in the way, we would have each other right here, in this darkened corner, within arms’ reach of complete strangers.
I have long since forgotten the rest of the world, and with it, Cici. Nothing exists beyond this moment with this man. We are absorbed, my lipstick smeared irreparably, and my lips swollen from the pressure of his. When a hand pushes against me and Cici’s voice intrudes, it takes me a full minute for the low throb of my blood to recede and the music to intrude upon my senses again. My eyes settle and focus first on Trey, with my lipstick smeared over his lips. I lick my lips and use my thumb to wipe a smear going up and away from his mouth. He kisses my fingers, and Cici pushes against me again. I look at her; she is excited and is nearly hopping. David stands behind her, looking a little confused, a little flustered.
“What?” I ask, annoyed at her interruption, still not entirely in the reality of the moment.
“Holy shit,” she yells, her excitement plastered across her face. “Come on, come on.” She is pulling me, and when I glance over my shoulder, Trey is beside David, a small, happy smile on his lips. I smile back at him, and Cici pulls me along.