Chapter Six

Chastity

On Saturday morning, Trina and I woke up early and went into Chinatown, combing the thrift stores, searching for The Perfect Dress. Even though I knew I wasn’t dating Chase, the girlie girl in me wanted to knock him to his knees. He’d never seen me in full hair and make-up, and for a poor chick, I cleaned up nice.

I didn’t have a huge budget to work with, but I’d saved up a couple hundred dollars that I thought I could use on something special. I was getting really tired of hunting by the fifth or sixth shop, but Trina stayed focused.

“Girl, come on,” she whined. “Just one more store. Come with me, I promise you’ll find something. As your friend, I have to give you the kick in the ass you need to keep going. Come on, Chas. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. If you like Banks, you could have a ready-made job when you graduate. Complete with full benefits and a nice starting salary.”

I glared at her. Mostly because she was right. But I didn’t like the way the man made me feel. And fleeing those feelings had been my modus operandi since grade school. I’d protected my fragile heart with the tough girl act for so long, I wore the shtick like a second skin.

“Right, like that great kimono in the store back there? It only cost four hundred dollars!” I looked down at my scuffed sneakers and kicked at a crack in the sidewalk but only succeeded in stubbing my toe. “This was stupid,” I muttered, wanting to be surly. Needing to be surly. “I shouldn’t have said yes. Everybody’s going to know what a huge loser I am as soon as they see me. There’s no way I can put on a front good enough for The Waldorf.”

Trina grabbed me by the shoulders. “Nope, don’t you dare start with that, girlfriend,” she sang out. “You will not sell yourself short.”

Before I could protest, she steered me into a store across the street. The windows were dark and dusty. Antiques littered every available surface on the black and white tiled floor.

“We’re not going to find anything in here,” I mumbled under my breath. “I don’t want to look like Mildred Pierce, for fuck’s sake.”

Trina shushed me, then grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the back of the store.

“Look,” she said with a smug smile. “Vintage designers. All fifty percent off. Today only. We’ll find something. Let’s get to work digging for gold.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed her away, then stepped forward and started combing through the racks. Most of the stuff was horrible – dated and covered with ugly floral prints – but then I saw it. It. One of the coolest dresses I’d ever seen. It was black silk, and when I pulled it off the rack, I realized it would hit me right around mid-thigh. There were triangular cutouts over the upper bodice, which would show just enough cleavage to be sexy without being tacky.

“Oh my god,” I gasped. “Trina, look at this!”

She snatched the flowing silk out of my hands and flipped up the label. “Chloé,” she said. “Nice. Very nice. Try it on.” Trina grinned mischievously. “I think we just found you a dress for the ball, Cinderella.”

I glanced around the musty shop. Empty, except for Trina and me. But the idea of changing in public skeeved me out. What if someone walked in? But I had to slip it on because there was a huge sign about no returns on sale items.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Isn’t there some kind of dressing room?”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Trina stepped forward and pulled my cotton blouse over my head, then tossed it to the floor. She grabbed the black silk dress and threw it at me. I barely managed to put my arms through the sleeves and pull it down before I knew that it fit me like a glove. For the first time in my life, I felt truly beautiful.

Trina whistled. She grabbed my wrist and tugged me off to the side, shoving me in front of a grimy three-way mirror.

“Look at you,” she said, snapping her fingers from the top of my ponytail to the ripped sneakers underneath. “Rich boy isn’t gonna be able to resist this!”

I gaped, not believing that the reflection shining back did indeed belong to me. The black silk made my skin look creamy and pale, and even in the bad lighting of the shop I could tell it fit me as well as if it were tailored to my frame. There was a slight bulkiness under the silk from my jeans, but I knew that as soon as I tried it on with nothing underneath, the effect would be perfect. It even looked chic and new, like it wasn’t hiding in the middle of some Chinatown junk store.

“It’s perfect,” I said. I smiled – I couldn’t help it. I so rarely had perfect shopping finds like this one. It was almost as if some otherworldly, cosmic force was helping me find the only garment in New York that I could afford.

“It is,” Trina agreed with a knowing smirk. I’d spend the next few hours eating crow while she rubbed it in. “Now go pay and we’ll get some lunch. If I were you, I’d want something to eat before all that champagne. The nice stuff doesn’t go down like butter.”

By the time we returned to our crappy apartment, my nerves were galloping out of control. I’d left myself just enough time to shower and get ready. Everything seemed to go wrong – I sliced my calf open with a dull razor in the shower, my shower-cap leaked and I had to redo my blowout, and I couldn’t stop a glisten of anxious perspiration from lighting my brow. And no amount of loose powder could chase the flush from my cheeks.

Trina watched me with amusement as I stumbled around the apartment, cursing and muttering and looking for that damned torture device they call an eyelash curler. When the buzzer rang at exactly six-fifty, I gasped. Early. I should have known.

“What, you forgot he’s coming already?” Trina laughed. “You better go. Just remember, the coach turns back into a pumpkin at midnight.”

I stared down at my plain, black pumps. No glass slippers for my feet.

But as soon as she spoke, there was a knock at the door. My stomach tangled into hundreds of tiny knots. I ran the gamut of emotions – none of them exactly positive. Anxiety of course. And shame. Trina was the gorgeous one and as soon as he saw her … well, I’d disappear into the distance like a slow fade. With her almond eyes and honeyed skin, men chased after her like a pack of wolves. I’d always stood beside her, darkened by her glittering shadow. The perpetual sidekick.

A second knock on the door jolted me out of my haze, and I grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open, almost angry at his possible reaction.

Chase stood there, and just one look took my breath away. So, I stared. And stared.

And stared.

His tan skin perfectly offset the crisp white cotton of his dress shirt, and even his bow tie looked to be tied at a jaunty angle to match that charming and crooked grin. The dark stubble I loved so much had been shaved clean, and the rest of his hair slicked back. His dark eyes twinkled at me as they took in my dress.

“Well, what do you know? We match. And I didn’t even call you to discuss wardrobe.” Chase stepped forward with a waggle of his arched brows. “Did you plan that, Chastity?”

“No.” I looked down, hoping against hope that my make-up held out long enough to keep my cheeks from flaming as red as a fire engine. “You’re okay with this dress?”

Chase stepped even closer – so close that I could smell his intoxicating cologne. “You look amazing,” he whispered in my ear. The sensation of his breath against my sensitive skin was enough to make me shiver, and I had to dart quickly away in fear that I’d plaster myself against him and never be able to pull away.

“You guys get on out of here and have some fun!” Trina watched us with an amused smirk on her face and her hand propped up on her curvy hip. Chase glanced at her in a cursory way, as though she were nothing more than a fixture within the space.

“As long as I’m with Chastity,” Chase said as he continued to stare at me. “I’m sure I’ll have fun.”

As we walked out the door together, my cheeks continued to flame as crimson as the front page of the Sunday New York Times.

Diego waited beside the limo. He gave a slight bow to Chase before opening the back seat door for me. People on the street stared and whistled as I crawled inside. The car drew even more attention than it had before when it sat parked in the same spot.

“Chastity, you remember my driver, Diego,” Chase said. “He’s specifically requested that you don’t jump out of the vehicle tonight, lest you become human roadkill.”

I smiled, face flaming, remembering how we met and the argument over this poor man the night I’d fled this very car. “Nice to see you again, Diego.”

The short, burly man nodded as I slid inside. Every inch of his demeanor remained professional, but a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Nice to see you as well, miss,” the driver said smoothly as he held the door open and gazed inside as Chase and I settled down on the seat. “It’s unusual for…”

“Thanks, Diego,” Chase said in a booming voice. As if he knew Diego was about to utter something inappropriate. “I don’t want to be late. Barracuda Banks will tan my hide if I don’t arrive within a certain window. Woman scares the shit out of me.”

“You and me both,” Diego agreed with a nod as he shut the door, slipped behind the wheel and hit a button that slid the tinted glass into place between the front and the back, giving Chase and me privacy. Privacy I didn’t want or need.

“Barracuda Banks?”

“Anne. Nolan’s mother. And I use that term loosely. You can’t even begin to understand what she’s capable of doing.”

I shivered and ran my hands along my upper arms to soothe the gooseflesh. What in the hell had I gotten myself into here?

As the limo pulled away from the curb, it finally hit me that I was actually going to the poshest party of my entire life. Trina’s joking aside, I did kind of feel like a Brooklyn Cinderella. I couldn’t help but smile. When Chase handed me a bubbling flute filled with champagne, I accepted. What could a couple of sips hurt?

“Thank you,” Chase said as he settled back in the buttery leather seat. He smirked at me. “I was worried it would be another evening of convincing you to have a drink with me.”

I giggled and took a sip of the champagne. Its creamy essence floated over my tongue – I stared at the bubbles floating up to the top. “Well, this is a special occasion, isn’t it? I normally would have refused, but…”

“God,” he groaned, shaking his head. “Trust me. It’s not going to be that special of a night. These things are boring as hell. I go because I have to. I’ve been best friends with Nolan for years – he’d probably kill me if I didn’t show up. I just know there’s going to be some kind of drama there.”

“Oh? Like what? Besides the ole Barracuda, of course.”

My words indicated teasing but inside I shook inside my platform pumps. Anne Banks? The woman hit the society pages weekly. She could stomp me underneath her Jimmy Choo never to be seen or heard from again. Bye bye New York City.

Chase grinned and my heart slammed against my ribs in a frantic rhythm of curiosity and lust.

“Oh, no,” he said, tipping his glass toward me in salute. “I’m not falling for that trick. What exactly do you want to do with your life after college?”

“I’m not sure,” I lied, taking a big gulp. “I’m open to possibilities.”

Chase raised an eyebrow that made him resemble a pirate. Blackbeard Bradenton. All he needed was a leather eye patch and a parrot on his shoulder. I almost wanted to ask him to drop trou to see if he had a hidden peg leg underneath is rakish demeanor.

“Oh, good,” he said. “Because if you’re after possibilities, working at Banks Realty is one of the best ways to get anywhere you’re going in NYC. They really take care of their employees. Four annual bonuses, Christmas perks, four weeks paid vacation, and two weeks sick leave. We have the best healthcare plan in the city, and lots of other resources. Tuition reimbursement, for example, if you’re interested in pursuing an advanced degree.”

Did that even exist in real life? I blinked. “I don’t know,” I said with narrowed eyes. “I’m not really sure that … well, I mean, it sounds great, really. But I don’t think I want a job just for the good money, you know? I want to make a difference.”

Chase stared at me for a moment, completely serious. Then he burst into laughter. “Chastity, you’re kidding me, right? Everyone wants to make money. That’s what this is all about. You can make a difference at the same time you’re making bank.”

I shook my head. Defensive. How did he know how to push all my buttons already?

“Not me,” I said in a clipped tone. “I know what I want.”

“Oh? What kind of a difference? Like charity work?” Chase’s words were laced with a playful sarcasm, and I let them graze over me. I cast my eyes downward, unable to make eye contact. I had to avoid unleashing my temper before my magical night was over before it even began.

“You wouldn’t be interested,” I said, staring at a piece of white lint on the black carpet. I wanted to take my high heel and grind it into his leather-clad toe. “I mean, I’m sure we want really different things in life.”

Yeah. I’m clearly an imposter because money only holds enough meaning for me to be a means to an end. Everyone’s going to know I don’t belong at Banks Realty or their fancy parties.

“Try me,” Chase countered. He reached over and topped my flute off with just a bit more champagne. “I want to know about you. Especially, if you’re going to be working for me. Banks is involved in a lot of pro bono work. Who knows? We might already have a mission for you. Charlie, Nolan’s wife, is in charge of a low-income housing project as we speak.”

I swallowed and shifted around on the seat. I’d never worn silk before – it was slippery and sensual and almost made me feel like I was wearing nothing at all. Glancing down, I noticed that the fabric clung to my body like a glove. That thought was enough to make me blush as I cleared my throat and took a long sip of champagne.

Fortification.

“I grew up poor,” I said in a rush. “In the Bronx. With an artist mother who didn’t really give a fuck about me. She used to leave me with the neighbors when she’d go party with her boyfriends. Sometimes she’d be gone for a week – sometimes a few months. And my father. Well, she had no idea.”

I glanced at Chase’s face, looking for the disdain I thought almost certainly would be reflected there. Instead, he looked sad. And thoughtful.

“Go on,” Chase said, pouring me a touch more champagne.

I took another quick, greedy drink, relishing the bubbles tickling the roof of my mouth. I should never have been so honest. Now, I wanted to knock on the glass, tell Diego to pull over and flee into the dead of night, regardless of the neighborhood. Moments of tense silence ensued until I couldn’t bare it anymore and I caved.

“I don’t really care about making tons of money,” I confessed. “Mostly … well, mostly I just want to help girls who come from a troubled childhood. It’s important, you know, when you grow up, and you don’t have the basic necessities. It makes it near to impossible to focus on school. It would have been easy to drop out and live on the streets. Sell drugs. Sell myself. But I want to be there for young women, to help encourage them to make the right decisions. To be the very best versions of themselves.”

Chase nodded but still didn’t speak. And his eyes. Those eyes held space and didn’t pity me, giving me the strength to keep going. Like he was some kind of hunky, human truth serum.

“After she died of an overdose, I fell into the system. It was horrible. As bad as you could imagine, it was worse,” I added, pulling a face and taking another sip of the frothy, creamy champagne. “It was traumatizing. Even in the best of homes, it was still intolerable. The state doesn’t pay foster parents well enough, and they don’t really give a shit. I mean, some of them do, obviously. My last foster mother was great. She was the one who encouraged me to apply for scholarships to Hunter. But she was the exception. I’ve never met another woman like her before in my life. If it wasn’t for her…”

“And you want to be that kind of woman?”

I sighed. “I don’t know that I want to be a foster mother, exactly, at least not right away. I don’t know that I’d be a good mom. But I do want to help kids in poverty. That’s what’s important to me. Not quarterly bonuses; not two weeks of sick time.”

“Oh, but those two weeks of sick time can come in handy,” he said with a shit-eating grin and a low whistle. “Every time you have a killer hangover, you just call in and pronto! On your way to feeling better immediately.”

I laughed and snorted. Didn’t he ever take anything seriously? I wondered if I could work for him. His playboy ways just didn’t sit well with me. I wasn’t one for blowing off work because I’d gone on a bender. “I’m sure.”

The limo pulled up in front of the Waldorf Astoria, and I couldn’t conceal a tremulous smile as one of the porters opened the door for me. Climbing out of the limo, I teetered on my heels as they hit the sidewalk. How many sips had I taken?

I smoothed the lines in my dress from sitting for so many minutes and looked up. The hotel was gorgeous – the outside was decorated with so many flowers that my head ached from inhaling the perfume. I’d never seen anything like it before in my life.

A fairytale.

Trina’s voice echoed through my addled brain. Chase stood next to me and offered me his arm. I hesitated for a second – then felt surprisingly bold and slipped my hand through the crook of his elbow. Although the touch didn’t come as a surprise, I could hardly contain the butterflies that swarmed through my body. Touching Chase was like touching a runway model. All that was missing were his Calvin’s ala David Beckham. I had to glance down a second time just to make sure he still had on his tux.

“Come on,” Chase said, tugging me forward. He grinned, and I fought the urge to touch his cheek. “We’re going to get our party on.”