The night flew by with dinner, drinks, and some business talk. We were back at the hotel by eleven and I was in my own bed by midnight—alone. Mr. Brown was tired from talking up the clients, and before parting ways that night he had told me not to worry about tonight and that tomorrow would be thrilling enough. I was expecting a kiss or a hug, but I got nothing. It was OK though, because I needed a good night’s sleep anyway, and the king-size bed would provide me with all I needed that night.
I was woken up at 8 a.m. sharp by room service pounding loudly at the door, scaring me straight out of bed. I put on a robe and answered the door, where I was greeted by three doormen bearing lots of bags and boxes. The first one ushered in a silver cart with fresh fruit, orange juice, coffee, and a card. The card read, “Busy day ahead. Please make sure my suit, shirt, and tie are ready. Be ready promptly at 8 p.m. Enjoy your dress!” It was signed at the bottom by Mr. Brown with a smiley face.
One of the other doormen laid down a dress bag and three boxes, after which he instructed me not to open them until 6 o’clock. I was then informed that a limo driver would be downstairs in an hour to take me to get my nails and hair done. I rushed to finish my breakfast, threw on jeans and a T-shirt, and caught the driver. It was a quick ride downtown to one of the best salons in Chicago. I walked in and spent the next three hours getting a manicure, pedicure, hair, and makeup done. I settled on a low, side ponytail for my hair and 1950s pin-up makeup: big red lips, heavy eyeliner, and rosy cheeks. My face definitely said sex kitten.
I returned to the hotel with a little bit of time left before I was supposed to open my boxes, but I couldn’t wait any longer and unzipped the dress bag. I already had the red Herve Leger dress that I had picked out from the boutique the day before, but I couldn’t wait to see what this one looked like. It was a gorgeous, black lace dress by another high-fashion designer. I remembered seeing a similar design on Hollywood’s red carpets—I could not believe I got to wear something so extravagant. And then adding black Louboutin shoes and diamonds to my ensemble, I was definitely going to look like the belle of Chicago.
As I headed to the lobby, for a bit of flair I decided to take the stairs down the last flight, which led directly into the lobby area. Mr. Brown was standing at the foot of the stairs with his mouth agape—I got the reaction I was looking for. When I greeted him by saying, “Hello, Boss,” he appeared to be struggling with trying to keep himself from ripping off my clothes right then and there. I told him how appreciative I was of everything he had given me, and we headed out toward the limo. We would be arriving at the Gala soon, and I knew it was definitely going to be a night to remember.