Saturday, May 26
Kay stepped into Dan's home and looked around. This was the best part of the city, close to the trendiest restaurants and nightclubs. Still, she had expected much more, something that fit the rich playboy image. Perhaps a palatial enclave or a penthouse suite with a doorman dressed in full livery. Where are the butlers, cooks, and other servants? Instead, Dan lived in a modest townhouse that he entered by actually unlocking the front door himself. He flipped on the lights, and the dark, empty place lit up warmly. The living room was simple, with two sofas enclosing a handsome wood coffee table. There was no clutter or mess-everything was neatly in its place. And art was everywhere: paintings, sculptures, even a mobile. The pieces ranged from classical to modern, from aboriginal to hipster.
Dan led the way upstairs and pointed to the hall bathroom, handing her a few towels from the linen closet. "Take your time. I have some calls to make." He wandered down the hall.
Kay closed the bathroom door and examined herself in the mirror. My hair looks like hell. She scanned the bathroom to make sure he had shampoo and conditioner. How many men had she met who didn't even know what conditioner was? But there in the shower stall was everything she needed. Kay smiled. This is where all of his women bathe. Kay showered more thoroughly than she had in recent memory and tried to get Rosseau's immense, slobbering mouth out of her mind. She stepped out of the shower, swaddled in soft white towels. Much better. Was she really going to the party with Dan? That would be strange, but how much stranger could this day possibly get? She had to find out. Kay dried her hair and brushed it out, then put on her khaki miniskirt and a black knit top with three-quarter-length sleeves. She quickly added a little eyeliner, and even found some moisturizing cream in the bathroom. Finally, she shoved the ridiculous rain boots into her bag and put on two-inch heels.
Kay studied herself in the mirror for a few seconds. Can I really compete with the Westerley set? Would she make a fool of herself in front of the playboy CEO? She would know soon enough. Ready to party, Kay stepped into the hall.
Dan was standing nearby, talking on the phone. She stopped instantly and stared-she almost didn't recognize him. Who is this incredibly good-looking guy? He wore a thin white linen shirt, intricately patterned, with the top three buttons open and showing a decent amount of chest hair. Kay hated guys who shaved their bodies, but wasn't crazy about guys with too much hair, either. Dan was just right. He was also wearing fitted jeans which, combined with the revealing shirt, showed off a solid athletic build. She stood there and admired the view.