kiss as her friends ordered drinks.
When the waitress said that the drinks were on the house for Sydney’s birthday, Portia and Trish gave each other high fives.
“Hell yeah!” Portia exclaimed. She laughed. “I’ve only got enough for cab fare home.” Trish chuckled. “Ha! You’ve got more than me!”
Sydney swayed from side to side, watching the performance. A couple of men came over, asking the girls to dance. Portia quickly jumped up to “shake her thang,” but Sydney and Trish hung back.
Trish looked at Sydney, now sipping a martini. “You know Portia doesn’t mean any harm.”
“Yeah, I know,” Sydney said over the music.
“Was it really that bad?”
Sydney put down the drink. “No, just weird. It was as if he expected me to be flattered. He wasn’t trying to force me. He just acted like it was something I wanted. I don’t know. I can’t understand what his deal is.”
“Did you like him? Were you attracted to him?”
Sydney blushed. “Attracted to him, yes. Like him? The jury’s still out on that one.”
“Well, I must say, you’ve had one interesting twenty-third birthday,” Trish said, as she raised her glass in a mock toast.
Sydney raised her martini and clinked glasses with her friend. “That I have.” The singer ended the song, and everyone clapped. Sydney grinned at the stage, watching the woman speak to Ricky and then come back to the mic.
“Tonight’s a special lady’s birthday! Sydney, stand up and let everyone see you,” she said.
Sydney blushed as everyone cheered, and Trish pushed her arm to make her stand. Portia came back to the table, grinning.
“Get your ass up, girl. They cheering for ya!”
Sydney rose and waved to the club crowd, then sat down. The singer announced that her next number was dedicated to Sydney from Ricky. As the woman started singing, Sydney shook her head, and both her friends leaned in to kiss her cheek.
“Happy birthday, girl!” Portia grinned.
“Happy birthday, Sydney,” Trish sang.
Sydney raised her glass of club soda. “Happy birthday to me!” Ricky winked as he gave her his saxophone solo. Sydney smiled, knowing that the night was the best one she could have planned for her birthday, although the strangeness of Nolen Adams had not yet been forgotten.
Chapter 4
The Price of Fame
“Hello, Portia.”
His voice held a smooth yet distinct flavor common amongst high-end photographers. Todd Ellison stood almost equal to her five-foot ten height at about six-foot tall. She took in his attractive physique. He had thick tawny gold hair and tanned skin that made him more like a California surfer than the man with the magical lens. Portia was no fool. The real turn on is the fact he’s made every unknown he’s worked with a star. To add to his sexy, he had the most captivating liquid eyes, a firm but sensual mouth and a ruggedly handsome face in need of a shave. And his attire was simple but rich, dark slacks and a loose fitted dark grey button up shirt.
Instinctively she straightened her back and pushed her breasts upward. When his gaze swept over her, she remained confident his appraisal would make him hers. From the appreciative expression on his face as they continued to travel over her curves, she knew she was right.
Portia had come prepared, for this visit. After Sydney tossed away her opportunity last week with Nolen Adams, Portia vowed not to make the same mistake. Everything was in place. Her hair, an chestnut brown shake of curls that stopped to the center of her back with golden highlights, was pinned back from her face with a rhinestone headband. She wore a jade-green wrap dress. The folds crossed over her c-cup breasts and tied around her tiny waist accentuating her shapely hips. In the winter she became pale, her naturally tawny brown skin wasn’t as vibrant. So she did a little tanning to heighten her Latin features. As far as Portia was concerned, the games could begin. He would make her the centerfold in one
When the waitress said that the drinks were on the house for Sydney’s birthday, Portia and Trish gave each other high fives.
“Hell yeah!” Portia exclaimed. She laughed. “I’ve only got enough for cab fare home.” Trish chuckled. “Ha! You’ve got more than me!”
Sydney swayed from side to side, watching the performance. A couple of men came over, asking the girls to dance. Portia quickly jumped up to “shake her thang,” but Sydney and Trish hung back.
Trish looked at Sydney, now sipping a martini. “You know Portia doesn’t mean any harm.”
“Yeah, I know,” Sydney said over the music.
“Was it really that bad?”
Sydney put down the drink. “No, just weird. It was as if he expected me to be flattered. He wasn’t trying to force me. He just acted like it was something I wanted. I don’t know. I can’t understand what his deal is.”
“Did you like him? Were you attracted to him?”
Sydney blushed. “Attracted to him, yes. Like him? The jury’s still out on that one.”
“Well, I must say, you’ve had one interesting twenty-third birthday,” Trish said, as she raised her glass in a mock toast.
Sydney raised her martini and clinked glasses with her friend. “That I have.” The singer ended the song, and everyone clapped. Sydney grinned at the stage, watching the woman speak to Ricky and then come back to the mic.
“Tonight’s a special lady’s birthday! Sydney, stand up and let everyone see you,” she said.
Sydney blushed as everyone cheered, and Trish pushed her arm to make her stand. Portia came back to the table, grinning.
“Get your ass up, girl. They cheering for ya!”
Sydney rose and waved to the club crowd, then sat down. The singer announced that her next number was dedicated to Sydney from Ricky. As the woman started singing, Sydney shook her head, and both her friends leaned in to kiss her cheek.
“Happy birthday, girl!” Portia grinned.
“Happy birthday, Sydney,” Trish sang.
Sydney raised her glass of club soda. “Happy birthday to me!” Ricky winked as he gave her his saxophone solo. Sydney smiled, knowing that the night was the best one she could have planned for her birthday, although the strangeness of Nolen Adams had not yet been forgotten.
Chapter 4
The Price of Fame
“Hello, Portia.”
His voice held a smooth yet distinct flavor common amongst high-end photographers. Todd Ellison stood almost equal to her five-foot ten height at about six-foot tall. She took in his attractive physique. He had thick tawny gold hair and tanned skin that made him more like a California surfer than the man with the magical lens. Portia was no fool. The real turn on is the fact he’s made every unknown he’s worked with a star. To add to his sexy, he had the most captivating liquid eyes, a firm but sensual mouth and a ruggedly handsome face in need of a shave. And his attire was simple but rich, dark slacks and a loose fitted dark grey button up shirt.
Instinctively she straightened her back and pushed her breasts upward. When his gaze swept over her, she remained confident his appraisal would make him hers. From the appreciative expression on his face as they continued to travel over her curves, she knew she was right.
Portia had come prepared, for this visit. After Sydney tossed away her opportunity last week with Nolen Adams, Portia vowed not to make the same mistake. Everything was in place. Her hair, an chestnut brown shake of curls that stopped to the center of her back with golden highlights, was pinned back from her face with a rhinestone headband. She wore a jade-green wrap dress. The folds crossed over her c-cup breasts and tied around her tiny waist accentuating her shapely hips. In the winter she became pale, her naturally tawny brown skin wasn’t as vibrant. So she did a little tanning to heighten her Latin features. As far as Portia was concerned, the games could begin. He would make her the centerfold in one
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