Authors: Fern Michaels
Sara's Song (46 page)
“Shoot, I'm not
that
old.” She cast another look in the mirror and slipped her feet into her ruby red slingbacks she'd been dying to wear since she'd purchased them two years ago. Lin remembered buying them on a trip to Atlanta as a prize to celebrate her first million. On paper, of course, but still it was monumental to her, since she'd clawed her way to the top. It hadn't been all rainbows and lollipops, either.
that
old.” She cast another look in the mirror and slipped her feet into her ruby red slingbacks she'd been dying to wear since she'd purchased them two years ago. Lin remembered buying them on a trip to Atlanta as a prize to celebrate her first million. On paper, of course, but still it was monumental to her, since she'd clawed her way to the top. It hadn't been all rainbows and lollipops, either.
Clipping on the garnet earrings Sally and Irma had given her for her thirtieth birthday, she returned to the mirror for one last look before heading downstairs.
Five-foot-three, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, Lin scrutinized her image. The stylist had flat-ironed her long blond hair, assuring her that it was the current style, and, no, she was not too old to wear her hair down. Her face had a rosy glow courtesy of Lancôme and a facial. The manicurist had given her a French manicure, telling her it, too, was “in vogue.” After leaving the spa, she returned to her room with a few makeup tricks under her belt. Plus, her hairstylist had sashayed back and forth, showing her the fashionable way to strut her stuff so that she'd be noticed when making an entrance. While that was the last thing on her mind, she'd had a blast with the women, more than she cared to admit. Lin had confessed that she hadn't had time for such things as a girl, but she hadn't explained why.
She glanced at her watch. Six-fifteen. It was time for Cinderella to hail her carriage.
“Get off it!” If she continued thinking along those lines, she would have to commit herself.
Lin visualized her mental checklist. Purse, lipstick, wallet, cell phone, and keycard. All of a sudden her hands began to shake, and her stomach twisted in knots. It wasn't like she would be the only parent there. Unsure why she was so jittery, she shrugged her feelings aside, telling herself she simply wanted to make a good impression on Will's professors and classmates. Plus, she wasn't on her own turf, and that in and of itself had the power to turn her insides to mush.
Instead of exiting through the turnstile doors, Lin allowed the doorman to open the door for her. Discreetly, she placed a twenty in his hand and hoped it was enough. Sally told her you had to tip everyone for everything in the city. Lin calculated she'd be broke in less than a year if she remained in New York.
“Thank you, ma'am,” the elderly man said as he escorted her to a waiting taxi.
Okay, that was worth the twenty bucks. She would've hated to chase down a cab in the red heels.
The inside of the taxi was warm. Lin offered up a silent prayer of thanks that there were no strange odors permeating the closed-in space. She would hate to arrive at the banquet smelling like cigarettes and onions.
More blaring horns, shouts, and tires squealing could be heard. Lin enjoyed watching the throngs of people on the streets as the driver managed to weave through the traffic. Lord, she loved the hubbub, but she didn't think she could tolerate it on a daily basis.
Poor Will. She smiled.
Not
poor Will. After the slow pace of Dalton, he would welcome this. It was one of the many reasons he had chosen to attend NYU in the first place. He'd wanted a taste of the big city. Lin thought he was about to get his wish and then some.
Not
poor Will. After the slow pace of Dalton, he would welcome this. It was one of the many reasons he had chosen to attend NYU in the first place. He'd wanted a taste of the big city. Lin thought he was about to get his wish and then some.
Twenty minutes later, the cab stopped in front of the building where the banquet was being held. She offered up two twenties, telling the driver to keep the change.
“Do you want me to pick you up later?” the driver asked as he jumped out to open her door. Lin thought the tip must have been a tad too generous.
“Uh, I'm not sure. Do you have a card?” she asked.
He laughed. “No card, lady, but if you want a return ride, you gotta ask for it.”
“Of course. Midnight. Be here at midnight.” Now she was starting to
sound
like Cinderella.
sound
like Cinderella.
“Will do.”
Her transportation taken care of, Lin stepped out into the cool night air.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
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Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40
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Street
New York, NY 10018
119 West 40
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Street
New York, NY 10018
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Copyright © 1998 by Fern Michaels
Fern Michaels is a registered trademark of First Draft, Inc.
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-1493-5
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