Nineteen
Mills opened her wardrobe and looked through the clothes hanging up in it. Her dad had taken her shopping in the city a week before school had started, and she had a bunch of new outfits to try out. She wanted to look fabulous for Jas, both in her clothes and, later on, out of them. She had picked out a black Prada dress which she had originally planned to wear at the Christmas Ball, but this was a far more important event to debut the little black, skinny-strapped, soft velvet dress. Anyway, it was probably a bit too small and sexy to wear to a December party in Connecticut. And this would give her an excuse to buy something new.
She put the dress on the bed and flung open her underwear drawer. She'd need a strapless bra, she guessed, even though Jas might have found it more of a turn-on if she hadn't worn anything underneath. Unfortunately - or fortunately - Mills didn't have the kind of figure that could get away with going bra-less any more. She picked out a shiny black Victoria's Secret one, and some knickers to go with it. Simple, uncluttered, sexy. She wondered about wearing stockings for a moment, but her legs were still tanned and silky-smooth, and she didn't want to make the undressing part of the evening more complicated than it had to be.
Finally, Mills reached up and pulled a box down off the shelf. Inside were the black and gold Manolo Blahniks that her father had given her last Christmas. She had only worn them once, on New Years Eve, and they had felt magical. They were much too special to wear just anywhere, but this was the perfect opportunity. The heel was tall and narrow, the arch was bare, and the toe was open and tasteful. They looked phenomenal.
She tossed them onto the bed and went to the bathroom, where she kept a selection of perfumes. Her favorite was the Chanel that her mom used to wear. It was timeless, elegant, and made her feel safe as well as attractive. She spritzed a little onto her wrist and inhaled the scent.
She was immediately transported to her mom's dressing room at their house on Fire Island. She could picture her mom sitting at her dressing table, her hair up, putting on make up for a gala or a fundraiser or one of the events she always attended with Mills' father. Mills longed to talk to her, to ask her advice. She missed her mom so much sometimes she felt like she had been punched in the stomach.
She put the Chanel bottle back and picked up a silver atomizer filled with a Versace perfume she had picked out with Tibby last year. It was young, bright, cool, but also sultry and sophisticated. She loved her Chanel, and she loved and missed her mom, but maybe the Versace was a better choice for tonight.
She slipped the atomizer into her purse, and picked up the diamond tennis bracelet that her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday exactly a week ago. She pushed it onto her wrist and fixed the clasp. Then she looked at herself in the mirror for a moment. Her freshly-washed hair hung in dark, shiny bangs that framed her face. She tucked one strand behind her delicate ear and smiled. She looked good. Really good. And she felt even better.
"I hope you're ready for me, Jasper Genovese, because I'm all yours."
Unfortunately, getting it on with Mills was suddenly the furthest thing from Jas's mind. He ran up the steps of the Imperial and pushed past the concierge into the lobby. There were a few people standing around with their luggage in piles, or loaded onto carts. Some talked to the receptionists, others were on their cellphones. A group of men and women headed into the restaurant on the other side of the lobby for lunch. Inside the entrance, a large display of flowers stood on a table. Jas headed over a sofa in front of the fireplace and sat down. He pulled out his phone and wrote a quick text to Paige.
JasGen: I'm here...did you check out yet?
PaigeGrrl: I'm still in the room. Can you come up?
JasGen: Be right there.
Jas walked over to the reception desk and waited behind a old couple until the receptionist beckoned him to come over. She smiled at him, taking in the whole Jasper Genovese; his hair tidy, but just enough loose bangs to look casual, falling across his forehead. His high cheekbones, his long, straight nose and full, Mediterranean mouth.
Women, mothers, girls of all kinds responded to his looks, and when he smiled back at the receptionist, her felt her open up.
"Good afternoon, how are you?" He put his hands gently on the counter, not taking his eyes off the woman in front of him. He guessed she was probably in her mid-thirties.
"I'm fine, thank you." She smiled again. "How may I help you, sir?"
"I'd like a room, please, preferably a suite, for this evening."
"Certainly. Did you have a reservation?" She started tapping on her keyboard.
"No, I assumed you'd have a vacancy. Am I too late?" He asked in a light-hearted voice.
"Not at all, sir. We are quite busy, but we do appear to have a suite available for tonight."
"Wonderful."
"How many nights were you planning to stay with us?" She turned away from her computer and looked at Jas again. A flicker of something, perhaps recognition, crossed her face.
"Just tonight, please."
"Certainly. I'll just book you in, then. If you don't mind me asking; you look familiar. Have you stayed with us before?"
"I don't think so." Jas shifted his weight to his other foot, keeping his eyes on her.
"That's weird." She grinned awkwardly, "I could have sworn I'd seen you before."
Jas laughed, but said nothing. The last thing he needed was Mills hearing a casual remark from a hotel receptionist later on. She must have seen him last night with Paige, coming in together and going up to the room. He wondered how much time he would have before she made the connection.
"Okay." She said, smiling again. "I have you reserved for tonight in a suite. The room is ready now if you like. Check-out is noon tomorrow. The room is four-hundred and eighty-five dollars. How would you like to pay today."
"Credit, please." Jas replied, sliding his preferred Visa card across the counter.