The Bound Angel (Sacrilege Rising: Book 1)

Chapter Sixteen

The water was piping hot as it rolled down Meredith’s body, easing the tension in her shoulders. Frank used to joke the shower was only hot enough for her if it removed a layer of skin. Why did the idiot keep creeping into her thoughts? Enough. She would get him out of her head if it was the last thing she did.

She turned the water off. The chill immediately made her regret it, but if she stayed in any longer she was going to prune. Plus, the music stopped. The stupid Bluetooth was always disconnecting at the worst times.

Wrapping one towel around her hair and another around her body, Meredith stepped from the shower and turned the music back on. The beat immediately started thumping again. Stripping the towels off, she stepped into black date-night panties and clasped the matching bra behind her back. Then the blow dryer came out and did its thing, though she was careful to keep the heat low.

She pulled on the little black dress that was hanging on the door. It was tight, and she carefully shimmied her hips back and forth. Now she could start getting ready for real.

Meredith’s hips moved all on their own. She didn’t even notice, her focus entirely on the mirror in front of her. They moved in rhythm with the music, bouncing hard when the bass was thumping, and rolling with smooth sensuality when the song switched to something slower.

This was how she liked to get ready, usually for a night out with the girls. But it had been a while. Frank hated when she went out with friends. He always said she was ditching him. Being back here, in a happy place both physically and emotionally, came with an energy she missed.

She paused for a moment to put on eyeliner, applying with careful, practiced precision. There, done, just in time. The hairbrush took on the life it was always meant for and became a microphone just in time for the chorus. Meredith imagined the band playing behind her and a horde of screaming fans ahead as she belted it out.

Once the chorus ended, it was back to business. Meredith kept her upper body still while she applied mascara, but her hips had a mind of their own. She should have been a singer, or some kind of performer. At least a backup dancer. God that sounded fun.

Fun. What a concept. These last months had been such a slog. The mental burden of trying to force someone to enjoy themselves when all he wanted to do was sit around and play video games with his stupid friends was exhausting. All the times she’d had to make excuses for why he didn’t want to come out were embarrassing. Finding out he’d been cheating on her with one of her friends was humiliating.

But the worst part was the time she could never get back. Now that he was out of her life, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It was like coming out of hibernation to find spring had sprung, even if it would take a little while to adjust.

But enough of that. Tonight wasn’t about him. Not anymore. He wasn’t worth spending one more minute worrying over. This was the first real night in a long time where she planned on cutting loose a little. Or maybe more than a little.

She pressed her lips together and blew herself a kiss in the mirror. Lip gloss done. The woman in the mirror was hardly recognizable. There was a reason little black dresses were cliché. She looked good. Damn good. It was just the right amount of snug and flattering, clinging to curves she was more than happy with.

The halter top had a neckline that showed plenty of cleavage. That made her pause, tuning out the music for a second. Too much skin? Seeing so much of her chest on display made her feel a little scandalous. Whatever. Screw it. Her hips started bouncing again and she rummaged through her bag for the setting spray.

She focused on her hair next. People complimented her curly hair, and how the dark ringlets fell perfectly to her shoulders. But tonight she was in the mood for something different, something a little less girl-next-door, and a little more damn girl.

The straightener sizzled as it burned the dampness away. Turning her head from side to side in the mirror, it was still too neat. It should be a little less manicured, a little more untamed. She dug her fingers into her scalp and mussed it up a little. Perfect. The setting spray smelled like sharp lavender.

Her getting-ready playlist was on shuffle, and when the next song began with its heavy, thumping bass, her ass started bumping again. Not a backup dancer. She should be front and center. Maybe a DJ. She busted out the spinning-records move and checked herself out in the mirror. Okay, DJ was out.

Mike wouldn’t know what hit him. If he thought she looked good the other night, basically in work clothes, wait until he saw her now. That was a fun night, even before the after-party. She hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. Then at the bar, shoulder to shoulder with Mike, the privacy, the intimacy, was nice. What came after was… Meredith bit her lip. She couldn’t believe he was so distracted by her chest in a simple buttoned-down. Her cleavage tonight was on another level.

She tilted her head in the mirror. Was it the right necklace? Pearls were a little too old-lady-ish, and they were fake anyway. She opted for a silver pendant on a long chain that hung right between her breasts. That boy’s head would turn alright.

The song changed again, and she couldn’t keep from throwing her hands in the air and tossing her head with the beat.

***

Mike was running late. He’d lost track of time with Allie, which wasn’t exactly an excuse he could use with Meredith. He hustled through the doors and up to the hostess at ten-past-eight, out of breath and nervous and wondering whether the blazer he wore was overdoing it.

“Hi,” he began, catching his breath, “I’m meeting someone.” He looked around the small seating area, noting the empty couches and chairs, and prayed Meredith hadn’t already gotten a table. After standing her up, the last thing he could afford tonight was to be late.

“She’s not here yet, sir,” the hostess told him, reading the situation with a glance. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Would you like a table now, or to wait here?”

The hostess was pretty in that way many women who had customer-facing jobs at expensive places were. Styled hair just in place; expensive clothes and jewelry; an easy, practiced smile. Like a piece of fancy art in the lobby of a law firm or high-end hotel, the owners were deliberate about the first thing you saw when you walked in. They wanted you to look twice. They gave you a glimpse at the finer things, wanting you to feel like you fit in so you wouldn’t be as attached to your money when the bill came. As he followed the hostess back to the table, he tried to rebel against the psychology of it all. But her ass was something special. Some people just struck the genetic lottery.

“Date night?” she asked as they moved through the restaurant. The women at the tables all had their hair done, and there was plenty of glittering jewelry on display.

“Just meeting a friend.”

“Oh,” she sounded surprised. “I’ll send her back when she arrives, sir.”

He liked the way she called him that.

Just before she turned to leave, they locked eyes. Something passed between them. Mike got a weird impression in that moment, like there was a distinct lack of something in her life.

Her brown eyes flicked back and forth between his like she was searching for something. He sensed that behind the carefully hidden boredom and practiced courtesy there was an emptiness. That something important was missing. Then the moment passed, and she didn’t look back as she walked away.

Open staring like that was going to take some getting used to. He thought again of what Lana had said. Was this woman’s life in chaos too? Did she need a safe harbor to dock at?

He shook his head to clear it and picked up the menu while trying not to look at any prices. Skipping a week of work hurt, but this wasn’t the night to make it up. What did someone order at a fancy restaurant? Wine? Wine felt right.

He was reaching for the wine menu when another woman walked through the doors and caught his attention, but he looked away before his glance became a leer. He had to get a grip on this. If Meredith walked in while he was gawking at every attractive woman in sight it would be bad. Plus, it was gross, so he tried to concentrate on the menu.

A little black dress appeared in the corner of his eye. It was accompanied by sauntering hips and a plunging neckline, and Mike tried to remember the difference between Pinot Noir and Pinot Grigio. He was looking straight down with blinders on when the dress stopped next to his table. Determined not to hang himself, he didn’t look up, instead focusing on what sides came with the dinners.

The owner of the dress cleared her throat. Resigned to his fate, Mike glanced to the side, beginning with her legs and slowly moving up over the tight little dress, trying not to linger on mouth-watering curves. Then he really saw her.

Meredith’s eyes sparkled while he struggled to form words. He hardly recognized her. Her normally curly hair now hung straight and shone in the dim candlelight. The dress’ straps were tied behind her neck, leaving her shoulders and back bare. The silver adornments on the little purse in her hand matched the pendant that dangled alluringly on her chest, just like the sparkle in her eyes matched the warm smile Mike found himself returning.

She cleared her throat again and his brain lurched into motion. He rose to his feet, willing his nerves to settle.

“You look amazing,” he said, holding her chair for her.

“Thank you,” she answered, the smile never leaving her face. “You clean up nicely yourself.”

The blazer was the right call.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed, “I’ve never seen it from up here before. It’s gorgeous.”

Mike followed her gaze out into the night. Their window overlooked the Inner Harbor, which the locals stayed away from since it was always packed with tourists. But from up here, with the remains of the sunset a purple smear on the horizon, and the lights from the skyline reflecting off the water, it looked like a place of wonder and mystery.

It could have been a hundred years earlier, with crabbing boats trawling the bay, carving paths through open water, the lights of new industry shining on smooth glass. Or a scene out of a noir crime drama, the deep shadows hiding lurking predators. The thought struck him to say something like, ‘Not as gorgeous as you,’ but he decided against it. She said she wanted space.

“What’s on your mind?” Meredith asked.

“Sometimes,” he began, still looking out the window. “When I’m up high like this, I look for the places I grew up. It makes me think of Mom, and the little piece of the city I know. With all the craziness going on, I like just knowing they’re out there keeping on with their lives.”

Meredith gave him a long, searching look, until he felt like changing the subject. “Sorry. How was your day?”

“Don’t be. It’s nice.” She sighed, then settled in to tell a story. “Tom was in one of his moods. Tiff was leading a job on Whittaker, but the owners were gone and didn’t leave a key.”

Mike focused on what she was saying, and restrained himself to stealing glances at her cleavage when he was sure she wouldn’t notice.

***

“It sounds to me like you did the right thing,” Mike said.

“I guess. Tom didn’t see it that way. He said I should have just booked it at the start.”

“But you couldn’t have, not until you knew he cancelled the Whittaker job.”

Meredith paused. He’d listened. “Yeah, but you know how he is. Once he gets an idea in his head it’s no use arguing.”

“Maybe with the rest of us, but he listens to you. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

The fact that someone thought she was doing a good job gave Meredith a warm, fuzzy feeling. She shrugged. “Thank you for saying that. But maybe he was right. Maybe I could have pulled John from the Hopkins project or something.”

“I thought you said Tom made that a top priority?”

He was right. Maybe there wasn’t anything else she could have done. Maybe Tom was just wrong.

So far, the night was proving to be refreshingly different. When she used to talk to Frank, their conversations went one of three ways. That bored, eyes-glazed-over look would appear on his face almost as soon as she started speaking. Or something would interrupt them, preceding a look of relief. Or he would take over the conversation, which felt like he was talking at her instead of with her. All he ever wanted to do was have sex or play video games, and neither of those options were nearly as interesting as he thought.

Now it felt like Mike was actually listening to what she had to say. They talked about work and school and family and life. And it didn’t feel like she was trapping him in a cage. She didn’t even mind when she caught him glancing at her chest. It was why she wore this dress anyway. Physical chemistry added a little something to the conversation. A subtle undertone of excitement just beneath the surface, a bit of spice to every look and smile, an… anticipation. It was just nice that it wasn’t all he was interested in.

“It sounds like there’s a story you’re leaving out,” he said, referring back to her sister.

Meredith rolled her eyes. “Of course there’s a story. It starts with she’s a bitch and ends with she’s a bitch. Now you’re caught up.”

Mike snorted, almost spitting out his wine. His laugh was warm and genuine, a sound she could get used to.

Their server stopped by their table. “Can I interest either of you in dessert?” His hands were held behind his black buttoned-down shirt. Black must have been the dress code, since he wore black slacks and black shoes too. How boring. Earlier, she’d eyed the chocolate cake he’d brought to another table. And the crème brulé. And the bread pudding. Mike gestured, leaving the decision up to her.

“No, thank you,” she answered. Dinner was good. Great, even. But a too-full stomach wouldn’t do for what she had in mind next.

All-in-black returned with the bill, which Mike snatched, leaving her to feebly offer to split it. He refused, and Meredith hid a smile beneath her weak protests.

As they were leaving, a voice said, “Sir?” They both stopped and watched the pretty hostess approach. After a quick curtesy smile for Meredith, her eyes were all over Mike. “I hope everything was to your satisfaction?” She made it a question. She was more than pretty, with that smile and those eyes.

“Everything was great, thanks,” he answered.

As he turned to continue through the doors, the hostess interrupted again. “If I can assist with reservations, or anything else in the future, please let me know.”

Or anything else? What was that supposed to mean? Who did this tramp think she was? Couldn’t she see Meredith standing right there? What on god’s green earth did she-

A business card flashed and pressed into Mike’s palm. The hostess’ hand lingered on his for a long second, her eyes drilling holes into him, before she backed away with a smirk.

To his credit, Mike looked appropriately uncomfortable. “Uh, thanks,” he said, and held the door for Meredith, but not before sliding the card into his pocket.

Meredith tried to glare at the hostess, but the other woman’s back was turned. Her hips were cocked to the side as she spoke to someone behind the desk. She shifted her weight to the other foot, clearly trying to draw Mike’s attention to her amazing ass, even if he would deny it later. Men were so oblivious.

Meredith fumed. She’d insisted she just wanted to be friends, but tonight felt very much like a date. She still wanted her freedom, of course. All the wasted time with Frank hammered that home. But it wasn’t exactly fair to get jealous when another woman showed interest. She couldn’t even blame the hostess, much as she wanted to. Mike was hot. And something else simmered just beneath the surface. Something undeniable and seductive oozed from him. A captivating charm that wasn’t there before. Meredith found herself licking her lips as she watched him hold the door. She touched his stomach as she passed through, letting her fingers graze along his abs.

She would just have to make him forget all about that floozy.

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