6. BRYCE

The moment Everett messaged me with the location and time of our date, I went back into panic mode. I'd been spiraling slightly this morning. I rarely stayed at the club after my set, but last night, I'd sat around and had a couple cocktails. One of my favorite DJs, DJ A-Swiss was playing, she was incredible, and I might've been biased because we shared a similar taste in music from the 90s to 00s, around the time I was a kid.

— Le D'Or Blanc. I sent into the group chat.

— Babes! I'm coming over. Cristian immediately sent back.

— That's a boujie place! Have you got the funds? Hugh asked.

—I wish I could come over and help you get ready but Sunday is improv night. He continued.

Jai was typing. I wasn't expecting any of them to come over.

— Wow. I'm getting the train now. Do you have a suit to wear?

That panic was right there, daring me to spin out of control.

— I have that one suit and that one designer shirt. I sent back.

We had a couple of hours until I was supposed to collected in a car. Another detail I'd left out of the group chat. We'd all seen the articles about Everett at this point. A man with that much money was going out of his way to pull me into his life, and take me to a fancy dinner. It was one way to treat me like a princess, I suppose, but I was far removed from an actual princesses world where things like exclusive restaurants and car services came into play.

Cristian was first to arrive, carrying a garment bag in his arms, and two coffees in a carton holder. "You have one opportunity to make an impression," he said. "As my mom says, put your assets in their face and they'll forget your flaws." He chuckled. A saying I'd heard before, we'd all heard it. His mom was a huge supporter. She was probably on the sidelines rooting and reminding us to wear clean underwear, or better yet, fresh out of the box underwear.

I took a coffee and slumped myself into the leather bean bag. "Yesterday, I don't know who that was, but someone took over me. I'd like to think it was Princess Valeria, doing me an absolute solid. You know, running out there into the rain and—"

"I know," he said. Behind me, Cristian peeled the drapery back to reveal my bedroom. "I watched it. I'm still in shock. You know, I'm the one with Latin blood, I should be out there wearing my heart on my sleeve and making big gestures to get into the pants of hot, handsome, rich men." He gently placed the garment bag down. "Now. I brought over two suits. You're a couple inches taller than me, but that's fine because the hem of the slacks are rolled and pinned up anyway."

Sipping my coffee, I knew it wasn't a good idea. I'd already nearly given myself a coronary this morning reading back the texts I'd sent to Everett. "I do have a suit, but it's a couple years old."

Cristian snapped his fingers. "Get up," he said. "These suits are thrifted from a place on the Upper East Side, designer, maybe even vintage. So, let me see which one looks better on you. One is darker than the other. I don't want the color to wash you out."

I sighed, taking heavy steps toward my bed. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"I don't know, but I know it wouldn't be as fun," he said, clicking his fingers at me some more. I had to be stood straight for his fitting.

Cristian loved to play around with fabrics and design. We all liked to play at it, which is one of the reasons we could get such beautifully crafted princess gowns, but Cristian had an eye for it, again, his mom's influence.

"I'm jealous," he mumbled, pulling a tape to measure the inside of my leg. "I've been on all the dating apps for the longest time. I just need someone."

"You need a Daddy," I told him. "We all do."

"I will find one, eventually, but I want one now."

"The moment you stop looking, one of them might fall into your lap." I clung to the coffee in my hands, both for the warmth and the jittery chaos energy it caused inside. "But I don't even know if Everett is into that life."

"He knows about the Playhouse Club."

That was true. Half of me assumed he knew because he was a rich, gay, businessman. If he didn't know about it, I might've been a little worried. It didn't mean he was interested in the lifestyle, but it also meant he might be. I tried not getting carried away with my thoughts. There were too many of them to keep track of.

"Are you going to take anything with you?" he asked, finishing his quick measure of my body. "Is this an overnight thing?"

"Oh god. What if it is? I won't be able to eat. I should probably go find some fiber tablets. You know, I have some somewhere. And I'll need to clean out ."

Cristian took the coffee from me. "Okay. Enough of that."

On cue, Jai buzzed, arriving at the apartment. He had a garment bag slung over a shoulder and a couple of his father's homemade samosas. He shook the Tupperware in my direction like I was a cat being called over for a treat.

"I can't even eat them," I sighed.

"Why?" he asked, placing the second garment bag on my bed. "Some more shirt options."

"Because he might be getting laid tonight," Cristian said.

Jai laughed. "That's not very princess behavior," he said. "I'll put them in your fridge." He called out from the kitchen area. "You have absolutely nothing in here. What have you been eating?"

"I've been working," I called back to him. "I've been living off grilled cheeses."

A gasp came from the kitchen. "And pizza! Oh god. Did you devour a full twelve inch pizza last night?"

Cristian and I locked eyes before bursting into laughter.

Jai came back into view, carrying the large empty cardboard pizza box. "This is not healthy," he said.

"It's not that," I said, feeling my warm cheeks from laughter. "It's the twelve inches."

"The only twelve inches I've seen lately is on a computer screen," Cristian said, making prayer hands. "I'm not a size princess, but I bet it feels good taking that much meat. Right? I wonder what the prep for monster that size is."

"Maybe it can part of the next campaign," Jai suggested. "I know I'd like to go up against a beasty with tentacles." He let out an exaggerated moan. "Speaking of. This man better not get in the way of our regularly scheduled hangs. And I include Wednesday evening when we princess pillow fort. I know it's not an officially schedule hang, but we usually do."

It had been a while since any of us had been in a relationship, so he was getting a little carried away. This was just a date. Nobody had to go out picking fabrics for the wedding just yet.

We had a couple hours to get me ready for the date. It might've seemed like a long time to get ready, but in reality, when anxiety was involved, time flew by and there was no stopping that beast once it was on the tracks zooming forward fast.

I wore one of Jai's shirts, it was the nicest, and one of Cristian's suits.

All three of us huddled around the mirror as I looked at myself.

"I'm a miracle worker," Cristian said.

"It's weird," Jai grumbled. "It's weird seeing you look so formal. Like, I couldn't imagine you in an office setting either. You've just get that laid back, hoodie and sweats vibe."

"Is that a read?" I asked.

Cristian snapped his fingers. "If it sounds like a read, then I'm—"

"No," Jai interrupted him. "It's just that you never wear this sort of stuff."

There was an uncomfortableness to the clothes, and the more I thought about it, the more they started to itch. Thankfully, there was no tie in this scenario, or I might've thought I was being choked as well. "Someone go get me the wine," I said. "I need a little something before I go."

As Cristian went off to grab the cheap wine he'd brought over. I glanced at Jai in the mirror.

"You're gonna be fine," he said. "The astrology app told me to fake it til' I make it the other day, so I'll say that to you."

My phone buzzed on my bed. It was a text from Everett.

— The car will be at your apartment to pick you up in twenty minutes. If it's too much, let me know, I didn't want you getting the subway all this way.

I read it aloud as Cristian poured wine into pink princess cups and Jai laid on my bed and played with a single stray peacock feather.

"Just how much money does he have like in his bank account?" Jai asked.

"Don't ask him," Cristian said, handing me a plastic cup. "He's employed. Which is more than can be said for some of our exes."

"It's just a date," I reminded myself. "We might not even be compatible."

As much as the friendship group was like having multiple versions of myself around, they were great at being distractions, but sometimes helpless about putting my mind in a different direction.

The wine was sharp and acidic, I drank it quick. "Princess Valeria give me strength."

Before the twenty minutes were up, I did a final check. "Teeth brushed, cologne on, not too strong, someone sniff me," I said. "I've got my keys, wallet, ID, and phone." I pulled my phone from the suit pocket.

"Location share," Jai said, snatching the phone from my hand. He placed it in front of my face to unlock it. "Just so we know where you're going."

"Smells good," Cristian said. "Also, don't let him keep topping your drinks up. Make sure to always have water on the table. Oh, and an umbrella, in case you have to leave and it rains."

Jai slipped the phone back into the inside jacket pocket

"And what would Hugh say?" I laughed.

"Jazz hands!" they said together. It wasn't so much Hugh said that phrase, but his favorite emoji was the two hands in that gesture.

The moment I received the text to tell me the car was waiting outside, I sensed Princess Valeria coming through me, telling me to be strong and if it didn't go anywhere, I wasn't losing anything. In fact, if it all went wrong, I'd send him an exaggerated invoice for the cleaning on the princess dress he'd stood on.

It was a fancy black car with cream interior. It had that new car smell. And I was glad I pulled out my formal black dress shoes, even if they were currently killing my ankles and heels. They'd been worn a maximum of three times. I hadn't learned my lesson.

Cristian and Jai waved me off like parents. I glanced back to see them part ways.

The driver in his fancy hat looked to me in the rear view mirror. He nodded. "We'll be at the location in thirty minutes," he said before the partition lifted between us.

Everett had texted me again, making sure I'd gotten in the car.

— Let me know if any of this makes you feel uncomfortable. He added.

It took me a moment to formulate a response. I didn't want to come across as ungrateful. This man was about to show me a really good time in an exclusive restaurant I'd never be able to get into.

— My feet hurt. But the shoes were the smartest I owned. I told him.

— You can take them off when you're inside. Maybe I shouldn't have picked somewhere with a dress code. He sent.

— Not unless that dress code was princess chic.

He sent a heart reaction to the text.

— Second date idea can be all yours. He sent.

—First date hasn't even started yet and you're talking about a second.

It was nice. It gave me butterflies from reassurance. I felt like he knew what he was doing, and that was a Daddy's job. I just hope he knew that.

We reached the destination. A gorgeous Upper East Side street. There was something in the air about the part of Manhattan, perhaps it was the faux riches in their fancy parfums, or even the real riches, maybe it was just the threat of rain yet to descend here like it had done already on the rest of the city.

Everett was waiting for me under the awning of the entrance. He had his gray trench coat over an arm, probably to show off how fancy and tailored to within an inch of its life his suit was. It hugged him in all the right places. I couldn't pick a focal point, but the bulge was right there on display.

"I'm glad you made it," he said, holding a hand out to me.

"You sent a car, it was pretty easy," I said, taking his hand. He swooped his arm under mine and we turned to enter as the doorman welcomed us inside.

"I hope you're ok to walk to the top floor," he said.

"What? There's no elevator?" I clung harder to his arm.

"I'm joking. I mean, it is on the top floor, but we'll get the elevator up."

I puffed out all the air in my chest. "It was either that, or—"

"I'd carry you," he said, on the same page as me.

The restaurant was at the top of a building and I held Everett's hand all the way up. It was the two of us and a man pushing the buttons in there. I didn't want to say anything while there was someone listening, but I had so many thoughts and not a single one of them needed to be heard by an audience. I'd never been in somewhere so rich before. I caught Everett's eyes on me in the mirrored elevator. I'd been smiling, but not for the reason he might've thought. I'd played at a lot of venues, and they were all so grungy and industrial.

The doors opened with a ding and an announcement. ‘ Welcome to Le D'Or Blanc' in a robotic voice. The same words were repeated once more by a woman who greeted us. It was dim outside the elevator with spotlights illuminating spots on the walls and barely making the ground beneath our feet visible. I was a fish out of water, on dry land and flip flopping around.

"Mr. Harper," she said. "I'm Jeannie, your personal attendant tonight. I have a booth for you waiting. If' you'd follow me."

I glanced at Everett, my jaw almost locking as my teeth grit with the reestablished pain in the back of my ankles. I didn't let him know I was in pain, but if I forced my jaw down any harder, I feared I'd force myself into an unbearable headache.

Every place setting was inside a booth and each booth faced out to the open views of Central Park. Small rainbow refracting chandeliers hung above each booth as well, throwing down a colorful dance of light over everything within range.

We were seated at a table with a bucket and ice, a bottle of champagne and two glasses beside it. The booth was a plush purple velvet that excited my fingers as I ran them across it. Everett scooched closer.

Jeannie took the bottle. "Complimentary Dom Perignon," she said, pulling a small cloth from a pocket. "I would like to let you known about our special being served today. Chef is calling it imperial fantasy. It is a Matsuzaka wagyu and bluefin toro duo, delicately seared and presented together. It is paired perfectly with a truffle foam, a yuzu-soy reduction, and black truffle shaving."

I stared at her slack-jawed. Only half of her words went in my brain. "Is there a translation anywhere for people who don't know what that mean?" I asked.

She smiled, popping the cork of the champagne into the cloth with a tiny bang. "It's a meat and fish tasting dish, but please, take a look at the menu and I'll be happy to answer any of your questions."

In front of us there was a small black binder that blended into the darkness of the table cloth, mostly only visible through the candle and the crossing of the chandelier light.

"I can also answer them for you," Everett said. "I come here frequently."

We were from two different worlds. I opened the menu to see four items listed on each page. Not a single mention of price, and more of the fancy words Jeannie had been throwing around. She poured the drinks into our champagne flutes before giving us a moment to look at the menu.

"It's so dark in here," I whispered to him.

"I'll ask another candle," he said. "It's supposed to be intimate."

"You come here all the time?"

"Alone," he said, slipping his hand into mine. "The view of the sun setting in the city is beautiful from this view. Watching the sky go through all those colors. Shame it's so dark and gloomy outside, otherwise I might've scored some points."

"Points?"

"Yeah, brownie points," he chuckled. "I should've asked you where you wanted to go, but I wanted to show this place off. I guess that negates some of the points, feels like bragging now."

"And the menu has no prices either," I grumbled.

He squeezed my hand lightly, pulling my gaze in his direction. "You don't have to worry about that," he said. "A princess never pays for dinner."

He had the right words to settle me somewhat. "You don't have to."

"I do. You searched for me online. You know. Besides, what good is money if I can't give a princess what they deserve. Shall we drink to that?"

The champagne went down so smooth. I nearly finished the glass off. "Can we also get some water?" I asked him. "My friends said I should stay hydrated too."

"Good call. I'll make sure we get some. Let's look at the menu. I'll let you know what's good. Some things they sell, I don't agree with, like the foie gras. It's awful. And I also don't get the appeal of caviar either. It's like those drinks they sell with the tapioca pearls, but salty."

As we went through the menu together, I could tell Everett was actually just like me, we chuckled about the same things, especially the wording of some of the dishes and how they made them sound majorly fancy.

"They do that to charge extra," he whispered to me just as Jeannie came back.

"How's the champagne?" she asked.

"Great. Thank you," he answered on behalf of us both. "Could we have a pitcher of water too? Tomorrow is a work day and I'd like to see it without a hangover."

"Of course," she said, beaming her service smile back at us. "And the menu. The chef has informed me we also have a king crab and beluga caviar, these are Alaskan king crab legs paired with Beluga caviar, resting on a saffron and champagne-infused risotto with edible 24-karat gold leaf."

Everett took over, it was nice to give him control. "Thank you," he said. "I'll be having the lobster carpaccio, he'll have the truffled artichoke and parmesan soup, then we'll take two of the A5 wagyu beef fillet. I'd also like to know which red wine you feel would pair best. I noticed you had a Domaine de La Romanee-Conti 2005 and a Petrus 1995."

Again, more words that went right over my head.

"The Romanee-Conti Grand Cru is an earthier red, while the Petrus has a sweeter, velvety taste," she said. "If you're looking to pair something with the wagyu, I would suggest the Romanee-Conti."

"Perfect," he said, closing his menu. "Oh, and dessert has to be the golden chocolate sphere, just the one though."

She collected the two menus and left.

"Just one?" I asked him.

"I'm hoping you'll share," he said. "It's a large portion."

"Only if I can take my shoes off," I said, feeling the back of them continue biting into my heel. "I think they might have made me bleed too."

He whipped a napkin from the table. "I can't have that," he said. "Lift your feet up. I want to see. I told you I'd carry you if I needed to." He flashed a smile as the chandelier lights tickled across his face. "Or attempt to carry you."

Sitting my feet on Everett's lap, I was nervous waiting for Jeannie to arrive. "It feels much better not being in those shoes."

"I see one problem," he said. "Your choice of socks. What are these?"

"They're my invisible socks. They're in fashion. Or they were."

"Well, aren't you the most adorable thing," he said, tying the spare napkins around my ankles.

"Me or the socks?"

He winked. "You decide, princess."

If he did that, I couldn't be blamed for the actions I would take, or the table that would be ruined from jumping on to get to him. I still needed clarity on things from him, like how far he was willing to take this princess thing, and whether it was just a playful pet name, or he actually knew how to make me his little princess.