Ripping Pages (4 page)

As she was leaving, Sloan reminded everyone about a party she was having the following week. She extended an invitation to me, as well. Before I could answer, Tatum spoke for me. “She will be there. Can’t wait, girl. See you guys Sunday.”

“Sure thing, Tate. It was nice to meet you, Tinley.”

“Thanks, you too.”

I waved goodbye to them, and Tatum and I caught a cab back to the village. As soon as my head hit the headrest, I passed out. I woke up to Tatum alerting me that we were home.

I quickly changed into my pajamas and lay down in my comfortable bed. It was near two in the morning, and it had been a long, but exciting day. Since I took off from work for my audition, I was working bright and early at the cafe' in the morning. My dreams were coming true, and I was in the most amazing city.
I should pinch myself.
As I closed my eyes, my thoughts weren’t of James this time, but of a sexy grin and intense gray eyes. I slipped into a peaceful sleep.

The following Saturday morning, after my night shift at Caffenation, I walked home and fell into the bed. I had several hours before we had to leave for Sloan's party that evening. Tatum had a fitting to attend for an upcoming fashion show so she would be meeting me there again. I was nervous for some reason. I guess I felt that I got lucky with these nice girls and I was pretty sure it was only a matter of time before I met some real bitches.

I fell asleep and was awakened by my phone ringing with Tatum on the other end telling me that I probably smelled like eggs and coffee, so get my ass in the shower. I grumbled, but did as she said—because I really did smell.

After I showered, I brushed my teeth, put on my makeup, and blow-dried my hair. I had a natural wave to my very thick brown hair that I hated, so I always straightened it making sure my side swept bangs looked just right.
I was actually having a good hair day, thank God.
It looked sleek and shiny thanks to the pomade I used to finish it off. I changed into a new outfit I had bought just for the party. I put on a pair of black leather leggings, a deep red sleeveless peplum shirt, a black blazer, and a pair of heels the same color as my shirt. I finished it off with some silver and red bling, and an adorable clutch that I'd bought with different colors of lips all over it. I had also applied some pretty red lipstick that complimented my outfit perfectly.
I knew I could keep up with these affluent people in my not so expensive clothing. I was ready.
I walked downstairs and hailed a cab, again.
Damn, I was getting the hang of this. Maybe my new New Yorker smell would wear off soon.

The cab pulled up, and I got in, giving him the address to a place in Brooklyn. I had no idea where the heck I was heading, but I was kind of excited about a party. I hadn’t really let myself have much of a social life since I got here so now that things were starting to come to fruition it was time I let myself have a little fun.

A while later we pulled to a stop behind several limos and town cars. I looked out the window and up the street at a huge building that housed a massive clock at the top. All along the front doors to the building, there were paparazzi and people everywhere. I verified the address with the driver. “This is 1 Main Street, right?”

“Yes, Miss.”

I had butterflies. I was definitely not getting out of this car until Tatum arrived.
Paparazzi? Really?
I quickly texted Tatum praying that she wasn’t her usual late self and that she was already here. She texted me back saying she was already inside and that she was coming to get me.

As I waited, I noticed that directly in front of me stood the Brooklyn Bridge, and I could see the lights from the Manhattan skyline clearly. It was absolutely beautiful.

A few minutes later, Tatum tapped on the window. I paid the driver and stepped out onto the cobblestone street.

As I took in Tatum's beautiful sparkly green mini dress, I instantly felt like maybe I wasn’t dressed correctly. She looked far dressier than I did.

“You look fab, Tin.”

“Thanks. So do you, Tate. Are you sure I'm not under-dressed?”

“No, not at all. You look bangin'.”

I laughed, “Well, I don’t know if I was going for bangin’ but I guess I'll take it.”

“Good. We're actually early. Most people won’t start showing up for another hour or so. Come on, Hot stuff. Let’s show you off to these New York City boys.”

I rolled my eyes as she led me into the building.

In normal Tatum fashion, she stopped for a few pictures for the paparazzi. I sauntered past her and quickly ducked inside.

It was beautiful building. The lobby was decorated like something out of a 1920s movie. It was very cool and vintage.

I was so anxious. This was not my forte'. As we walked toward the elevator, an older man with kind eyes and a clipboard greeted us. “Names, please.”

“Tatum Jennings and Tinley Michaels,” Tatum answered.

“Ahh, yes,” He said as he scrolled down the list with his pen and found what I presumed were our names.

“Right this way.” He led us to the elevators. When the silver doors opened, we stepped inside, and the nice man pushed a code and stepped back as the doors closed, and Tatum and I were heading up. I took my powder and lip gloss out of my bag and reapplied. I noticed the glowing button for the floor we were going to… I suddenly felt extremely out of my league.

“Penthouse?” I asked, incredulously.

“Yes. Sloan's brother owns it. I've only met him a handful of times, but he’s really cool. And fucking gorgeous—”

Before she could say anymore, the elevator ascended higher and the doors opened up. My breath stopped. This place deserved such a better name than Penthouse. It was a palace. It was ginormous. The room was vast and pretty empty except for the caterers and waiters and maybe about thirty partygoers. Since there weren’t that many people there yet, the place looked even bigger. There was a gigantic glass elevator smack dab in the middle of the room that had a winding floating staircase that went up about three floors. It was awe-inspiring, to say the least. What I really couldn’t take my eyes off and away from were the four mammoth clocks on each side of the vast room. Each one had you staring through the clock and looking out to a different piece of New York.

“Pretty fucking awesome, huh?” Tatum asked.

“Oh. My. God. It is absolutely amazing.”

“Excuse me. Champagne?” asked a very handsome guy in a suit carrying a tray of what I'm sure was some super high dollar champagne that probably cost more than my paycheck.

“Um. Yes, thank you,” I mumbled, still in awe of this place. I took my champagne, and Tatum and I started walking around the penthouse.

We ended up taking the elevator to the top floor and out onto a tiny crow's nest terrace that directly faced the Brooklyn Bridge and the entire downtown of Manhattan. The colors and lights were indescribable. I was sure my mouth was hanging open. This was the kind of thing I had dreamed about New York. This was the stuff of movies. Lost in my reverie, I didn’t notice when Tatum came up behind me with Sloan, Cynthia, and Jess.

Sloan gave me a huge hug. “I'm so glad you came,” She said smiling a dazzling smile that displayed a set of perfect veneers. She looked gorgeous in a sleek black evening gown that rippled in waves down her back and onto the floor.

“Thank you for inviting me. This place is insane.”

“Ahh, yes. Big brother is very generous, and he lets me use his place. I love it here, too. He definitely has good taste.”

“I'll say,” I said still in a stupor.

We walked back downstairs and around the party, and I was introduced to tons of people and dozens of names were given, and I couldn’t remember a single one. Most of them were nice to the newcomer but, as I figured, there were many females that were downright hateful. They looked down at me as if they were too good to give me the time of day. I'm not really one for confrontation, especially at a party to which I am a guest, but good old Tatum threw them some choice words and a few middle fingers as we left their presence.

A few hours later, the music was booming through the speakers, and now the space was filled with a couple hundred people.

At some point, as I was grabbing some hors d'oeuvres in the kitchen, Tatum had disappeared to a couch out of view, and she was flirting with a pretty sexy dude with a black and white Mohawk and several piercings and tattoos.

Sloan, Cynthia, and Jess eventually scampered off talking to more people they knew, and I suddenly felt very out of place. I decided I would use the restroom, if I could find it, and then take a cab home. I had been here for a few hours already, and I did have an early shift at the cafe in the morning. I asked a waiter carrying a tray of some appetizers where the restroom was at, and he pointed to a hallway where I could see a line of people standing. “Really? That’s the only one?”

He smiled and leaned in. “Well, there are two on the second floor, but the only one not being renovated is in the Master bedroom, and no one's supposed to go there. Just don’t say I told you.”

“Awesome! You are a lifesaver. Thank you.” I smiled.

“No prob. Just take the stairs. Oh, and the code for the door to the bedroom is 2611.”

Code for the bedroom door?

I thanked him again and walked the few feet to the elevator, and I was thankful that no one was using it. The elevator was seriously rad. It was completely glass and with the dim lights from the party and the bright lights from the skyline, it was a beautiful view. I stepped out into the hallway on the second floor. It was eerily quiet. The sounds of the party were drowned out by the enormity of the house. I walked down the hall where there were only two doors and a set of double doors. I saw the keypad next to the door handle, and I entered the code. Thankful that it was the right one. I felt around for the light switch so that I could see where I was going. When I found it and flipped it up, I was suddenly aware that I was in someone's personal space. I mean, I knew it was in the master bedroom, but I felt like I was seriously intruding. A bedroom was very intimate. It was my personal belief that no one should be in your bedroom, but the person you shared it with—or persons, depending on who you were. But I seriously had to pee. Looking around, my feeling of intrusion into someone's intimate space was confirmed. The room was huge with big windows all along the walls looking out into the city. It was sparse of furniture except for a huge King sized bed that sat against the far wall, the bed sheets and comforter rumpled up like someone had just gotten out of bed, even though it was after nine p.m. Men's clothes were strewn all over the floor. Jeans, white t-shirts, boxer briefs... a pair of lacy panties. I spotted condom wrappers on the nightstand next to an alarm clock and a half-empty bottle of water and a phone charger. Ok, time to pee and get out of this dude's room.

I finished my business and walked out of the messy room quickly turning the lights off and closing the door behind me. When I came out into the hallway, my little annoying snoopy side came out. Seeing that I was totally alone up there, I figured I could just have a quick look around. I would not go back into the bedroom, though. That was pushing it. I tried to quiet my heels on the solid cherry oak floors under me. I turned toward the set of double doors at the end of the hall and carefully and quietly turned the knob. It was dark, but as soon as I stepped through the threshold, the lights came on.

I was immediately in awe. Dozens of pictures, and platinum and gold records hung all around the room along with a huge shelf that held several Grammys and other awards I couldn’t name. I closed the door softly behind me and then walked around the room. I was in wonder as I looked around the room with beams and small windows looking out to the skyline. There was a fully stocked bar on the far side of the area. It was strangely cozy in that room. I walked over to one of the platinum records that hung on the wooden wall. I instantly recognized the band name.
Ripping Pages.
They weren’t a band that I particularly listened to, but I remember James had several of their CDs so I had listened to them quite a bit when we were together. We especially had enjoyed having some sexy time to the sounds of Ripping Pages and their lead singer whose voice made my girly parts tingle even more as it stroked me through the tiny speakers in James’ apartment.