And Playing the Role of Herself (Frankiana)

CHAPTER NINE

I eyed my reflection in the full-length mirror critically.

Black had been my mood when I began dressing, and black had been the result - black, three-inch heeled boots, black leather pants and a black, silk top. I'd slick my hair back and a touch of black eyeliner to bring out the shape of my eyes, and the overall effect was...

"Badass, slutty ho," I muttered to myself, and shrugged.

Well, I'd wanted to get noticed tonight, wanted a mainline of self-confidence right after a week of cool, mechanical civility from Franki that had battered my emotions - and along with them my self-esteem - into near submission.

This would definitely get me noticed.

Hell, maybe after the party, I'd go out, find myself a woman, and get this whole first-time thing taken care of. Maybe if I did that enough times, Franki would see that this wasn't a damn experiment for me, and she'd let me back in her life...

I snorted at my reflection. "Yeah, right Diana, that's so you."

Okay, so I wasn't looking to get laid - at least not by a stranger - no matter what the outfit said to the contrary. There was something, though, about dressing this way, about knowing you looked good and that people were staring at you, wanting you...

I grabbed my keys and grinned at my reflection, feeling my self-confidence come back in a rush.

You go, gurl.

***

"Lagavulin, rocks," I said briefly to the short, thin man standing behind one of the five bars set up on different floors of the enormous concrete and glass structure that was Scott's house. Scott was one of 9P's executive producers, and he was throwing this bash in celebration of the end of our second season, which we'd wrapped that afternoon.

The bartender nodded and went about filling a heavy glass tumbler with ice and splashing a generous portion of scotch over the top. He handed me the drink and a napkin with a polite, "Ma'am."

I smiled my thanks and stepped aside, nodding at a couple I didn't recognize as they took my place at the bar. I sipped my drink, enjoying the cool, earthy flavor on my tongue, and glanced around. Like the main level below, the walls and furnishings were blindingly white, and I had to stop myself from squinting. To my left, a window overlooked the main floor, and I walked over to lean against it, watching the flow of guests below and the silent.

A loud, unknown beat poured from hidden speakers, although thankfully not as loud on this level as it had been on the main floor. I'd been mingling for an hour and a half with that heavy thudding in my ears, and finally I'd come up here to escape it, to escape the press of people and small talk and just...breathe.

I idly contemplated going home. I'd caused a stir, raised some eyebrows, received the appreciative looks I'd been hoping for, and now I was tired, my head hurt, and the person I really wanted to see was probably a no-show.

"Goddamn, Diana, I heard you were here, but I had to see it to believe it."

I smiled and turned towards the voice, propping my elbows against the wall and regarding the woman standing at the bar with amusement.

A former detective, Veah Marcelo was one of the three police procedure consultants that 9P employed. A face that was intriguing rather than beautiful, and I had to admit it had always intrigued me. We weren't close, but we got on well, and the smile I gave her was genuine.

"Veah," I greeted her, watching as she accepted her drink from the bartender and made her way across the room towards me with the careful attention of the slightly drunk. "Been here long?"