[Alyssa]
Exactly an hour before our date, Chresanto drops me off at Chandler and Dahlia's.
"Call me when you're ready," he states.
"You don't want to come in and say hi?" I question, my hand on the door handle.
He shakes his head. "I would, but I have to go and get ready myself." I kiss his cheek and step out of the car, closing the door. "Alyssa." The sound of Chresanto's voice causes me to turn around; his window is rolled halfway down, and he's leaning over toward me. "Dress comfortable." I nod and walk up the stairs, seeing Chresanto's car drive off through the reflection in the glass doors.
The man at the door holds it open for me. "Thank you." I smile at him and walk to the front desk, then I turn around and walk back to the doorman. "I'm sorry to be a bother, but would you happen to know which apartment belongs to Chandler and Dahlia?"
"Mr. Burton and Ms. Frasier reside in the penthouse apartment," he answers. "Take the guest elevators up to the top floor. They're the-"
"Alyssa!" Dahlia's voice calls from somewhere in the lobby. Before I know it, Dahlia is embracing me in a warm hug; we release one another, and she looks me up and down. "Oh, sweetheart, we better get started on you right away." She grabs my hand and leads me to the residential elevator. "Do you prefer your hair to be natural, straight or curled?"
"I wouldn't mind having it curled," I admit. Dahlia presses the button, waiting for the doors to open. "How are you going to curl my hair?" The doors open and Dahlia pulls me into the space.
"I'm going to curl it with a flat iron, and yes, that's possible," she smiles, pressing the same button with the letter P on it that Chandler pressed the day before. "You're going to look like a fairy princess!"
"Chres told me to dress casual," I object, staring at the elevator doors.
"Asshole," Dahlia growls under her breath. "Well, it's a good thing I have you a back up outfit, then." The elevator doors open, and we walk out, now standing in the foyer of her apartment. "Babe, I'm back with Alyssa."
"Okay. I'll be down here and out of your way," Chandler responds. "Good luck, Alyssa."
"Good luck?" I repeat.
"Correct. Lia isn't really the most patient when it comes to playing Barbie make-over, which is why I don't ever get in the way when she's getting dolled up for dates," Chandler elaborates, pausing the screen in front of him; a football game is curently on. "Y'all have fun. Babe, you wanna grab me another beer before you go up?"
Dahlia kisses her teeth. "Really, Chan? What makes you think I want to get you a beer when I have an obligation to tend to?" she asks, pointing to me the way a showcase girl does the item she's trying to sell. "If you need me, don't call me. Figure it out on your own, okay?" She doesn't give him time to answer before she grabs my hand and leads me upstairs-more like drags me upstairs.
We pass the guest room that I slept in and two closed doors before stopping at the end of the hallway, facing a double door. Dahlia places her hand on the glass doorknob and twists, pushing the door open to reveal one of the biggest rooms I've seen. In the center of the room is where a California King Bed rests, neatly made up with a metallic silver comforter; grey and white pillows rest against the headboard. Dahlia drags me across the beige carpeted floor, leading me to a vanity in a corner of the room; she pulls the white rectangular bench out and pats it, her way of telling me to sit. I sit down and can soon feel my hair falling over my shoulders, tangled and unkempt.
