As I hailed a cab back to the Beverly Wilshire, I couldn't help but grin. Dante wasn't going to know what hit him.
The ride back felt different somehow. I sat taller, more confident. The city lights blurred past the window, and for once, I felt like I was part of this glittering world, not just a spectator.
When we pulled up to the hotel, I took a deep breath. Showtime.
I stepped out of the cab, my new heels clicking on the pavement. The doorman, who'd barely given me a second glance this morning, rushed to open the door for me. I gave him a polite nod, enjoying the way his eyes widened in recognition.
As I entered the lobby, the usual bustle seemed to pause for a moment. I could feel eyes on me, but this time, it wasn't uncomfortable. I reveled in it.
And then I saw him. Mr. Thomas.
