written by a woman for women and the more cerebral male
Chandeliers dangled overheard, casting stars on every surface beneath. Long stem glasses of champagne sparkled in the subtle lighting. Silken ball gowns skirted the glossy marble floors, heels tapped delicately as bodies swirled around each other in a lovely waltz. No one is touching. Soft chatter floats in the air, sweet endearing glances are shared among the crowds. Everything is… porcelain. Fragile, beautiful…stiff.
The deafening roar of the Harley's engine cut short in the parking lot of the Macy's department store. He'd rather be anywhere else, but this is what his girl wanted to do before their road trip. The holidays were coming and she had been obsessing over finding zomething new to wear to her parents'. Joey could care less.
She sighed heavily, attempting to dispel the disappointment of the night. The whole event had amounted to nothing more than a waste of two hours she would never get back listening to a suit talk stock options. Lindsey was sure her melting brain was actually leaking all over her nice new dress. Yet another sigh of discontent breezed passed her lips as her front door deadbolt clicked open. The dress; the black mini that silhouetted her curves perfectly, deserving of a standing ovation, but met only with a less-than-worthy that hadn't even possessed the courtesy to stand when she arrived. Lindsey threw her keys down in the glass bowl by the door frustratedly, slamming it behind her. The house was silent except for her heavy expensive black heels being kicked into the hall where they would stay until she had another need to be four inches taller. Next time, she vowed, she would be charging a deposit in case anyone else wanted to waste her time. Was it technically prostitution if the date went well though?