The Space Colonel's Woman (Dragonus Chronicles Book 1) (24 page)

Chapter 19

“Have a good time.” Mark said to the four women as they waited for Mike to load up Earth’s co-ordinates. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Not much wriggle room then.”

“Damn right.”

Julia picked up her backpack and pecked him on the lips. “Just you make sure you’re here, in one piece, when I get back.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He offered a cursory salute, eyes dancing with mischief and mirth.

Ange, Anora, and Valentina walked through the metallic shimmer in the center of the Birdcage and Julia ran to catch them up; waving over her shoulder as she stepped through to the Air Force monitoring station on Earth.  Four-hundred million light years travelled in the space between one breath and another.

Colonel Archer had given permission for the Earthside excursion.  It was Julia’s shopping trip, wedding planning, and hen’s night all rolled into one weekend.  They had set their wedding date for three months’ time, and now it was a scant two weeks away. 

First on the list was picking up her dress.  She had found the perfect one in a catalogue Valentina had requisitioned in the supplies from Earth and, once Julia had chosen, ordered it for her.  After trying it on for any last minute alterations and discovering, to everyone’s relief, none were needed; it was boxed amid a meringue of white tissue paper and sitting in her room at
The Jupiter
.  From a different designer, the others had collected their pre-ordered dresses and now they were shopping for all the little extras; lingerie, hair accessories, stockings, and shoes.  The latter was Julia’s high-stress area. 

Everything to that point had been decided upon by the simple maxim that the perfect item would just show up when it was supposed to.  After all,
the
dress had appeared in the only catalogue she’d been able to browse through.  Her shoes, however, continued to remain elusive.  Julia sighed for the tenth time in half as many minutes, lagging behind her friends as they meandered down the cobblestone lane of boutique shopping district
Orchid Court.

“You will find them.” Anora said, pausing for Julia to catch up. “If it is not to be, we shall call upon the many talented craftsmen on Zefeiria.  They would be honored to create for their queen’s dear friend.”

“Perhaps we should have gone there first.” Valentina pointed the toes of one foot to roll her ankle, before repeating the process with the other. “My feet are killing me.”

“Told you to wear your sneakers, Lenti.” Ange scolded, bouncing on her toes and grinning.  “Comfort first.”

“I prefer fashion over comfort, when I’m not in the infirmary.” Valentina placed a hand on Ange’s shoulder to balance while she showed off the gold spikes and black patent leather of her four inch
Anjalina’s.

“And you’re paying for it in more than just a month’s rent.”

“Two months.”

“I
think the point we are overlooking is Julia does not possess her ceremonial footwear.” Anora interrupted with the honey-smooth tones of someone used to settling disputes. “Colonel Holden will, of course, be most interested in what his bride wears on her feet.”

Valentina and Ange stopped mid-word only to erupt into gales of laughter a moment later.  Julia felt her face heat; embraced from all sides by her friends and accumulative shopping bags.

“I just w-”

“You just, what, Julia?”

Julia didn’t answer.  Her shoes were in the window of the French-style boutique next to where the foursome had stopped to hug.  She walked in, accompanied by the delicate sound of a tiny silver bell.  With her heartbeat on pause, she asked the assistant if they came in her size.

“I’ll check.” The stylish blond in a pinstripe pencil skirt and lace cravat blouse smiled before disappearing behind a curtain.

Eons later, she returned, a silver-crested pink box in hand.

Julia tried them on and paid, her ear-to-ear grin lasting all the way out the door.  She lifted the pink and white striped bag with a little giggle.

“Praise be!” Valentina cried, affecting the perfect imitation of a gospel singer during Sunday service.

“I told you, did I not?” Anora smiled with satisfaction while Julia hugged her tight.

“Thank you.”

“What’s next?” Valentina turned to Ange who was scrolling through the list on her palmpod.

“Lunch.”

“Wait, you put
lunch
on the list?”

“I put everything on the list.” Ange shrugged; the hint of a smile curving her peach-tinted lips. “Lists are my thing.”

At the mention of lunch, Julia realized she was starving.  Her stomach rumbled its agreement as the four women walked down the sloping sidewalk toward
Cattleya
, whose outdoor tables were bordered by orchid-festooned iron balustrades and shaded by white canvas umbrellas.

“Champagne, please.” Valentina replied in response to their waiter’s polite inquiry.

“Mmm…” Ange murmured, her gaze glued to the waiter’s ass as he sashayed his way between the crowded tables and inside to fulfil their order.

“I agree.” Valentina lowered her sunglasses to the edge of her upturned nose in order to make a more detailed inspection. “Almost makes you want to call him back, just so we can watch him leave again.”

Other customers looked in their direction in response to the raucous feminine laugher.

“Anything else, ladies?” Their waiter, Neil, asked as he poured chilled champagne into hollow-stemmed flutes.

Ange leaned in to whisper in Anora’s ear. “He’d look so pretty on his knees.”

“Indeed.” Anora stroked an elegant finger down the stem of her glass, letting her thighs fall open. 

Julia choked on the sip of dry fruity bubbles she’d been taking, eyes wide and darting between her friends and Neil to see if he’d heard. “Ah, two antipastos and four large slices of your best chocolate cake, with cream on the side, please.”

“Certainly, madam.”

Neil hadn’t heard Valentina.  Julia was sure of it.  Or if he had there was no heated flush or shaky hand as he scrawled down the new order.  “I shall be back in just a few minutes.”

He tucked the notepad in his waistband and the pen behind his ear, before placing the bottle in the ice bucket beside Anora and making his way back inside.

“He can cream my cake anyt-
what?!”
Valentina gave an affronted squeak when Julia elbowed her in the ribs.

“You’re lucky he didn’t hear you.” Julia reached for her glass and took a hesitant sip.

“I should make him do more than that.”

“Anora!” Ange hid her face and chuckled into her palms.

“What? Don’t tell me you’d say no if it was Mr Hayden Cooper on his knees before you.”

Ange groaned and dropped her head onto the table in defeat, amid the unrepentant laughter of her friends and the wary glances of fellow diners.

Valentina saluted her coup de gras and downed her champagne in one swallow.

“Lenti is correct.  It is impossible to deny such a man.”Anora’s tone, more than her words, drew the stunned attention of her three friends for a full minute.

“Unless of course you’re Julia.”

“Men in thigh holsters, what can I say?” Julia shrugged, downing her last mouthful and offering the glass to Anora for a refill.

Valentina raised her glass amid the fresh bubble of laughter. “To Julia, who travelled across an entire galaxy to find her man.”

“Ah, didn’t he fall at your feet?” Ange asked with a not-so-innocent quirk of her eyebrow.

“Details.  Details!” Valentina declared. “The point is they found each other.  May we all be so lucky.”

The universal
Amen
and clink of glasses suffused Julia in a wave of happiness she’d never expected to experience.  Turned out all she’d needed to do to find the man of her dreams, was change realities.  Julia felt so light she didn’t understand what anchored her to the ground.  Gravity alone didn’t seem up to the challenge. 

A couple of hours and another bottle of champagne later, they piled out of the cab and road the elevator to their hotel rooms with the promise they’d meet up around eight.  Julia dumped the collection of store carry bags next to the couch and collapsed on her bed, eyes closing before her head landed in the space between her two pillows.

When the sun had moved both light and shadow across the cream carpet to linger muted on the burgundy feature wall, she crawled off the bed, rubbing her eyes as she staggered to the door.  Who the hell was leaning on the goddamn pain-behind-the-eyeballs chime?  She got her answer when she opened the door to find Valentina and Anora, showered and looking far healthier than she felt.

“Quick, jump in the shower.” Valentina shooed with her hands as she boogied her way to the chair and rummaged Julia’s bag for a suitable outfit.  Though nothing she owned was likely to out-sparkle the lipstick-pink sequins her friend was wearing.

“Where’s Ange?” Julia asked from the ensuite as she stripped out of the day’s clothes.

“Changing.  She’ll meet us here.”

There was definitely something magical about a scorching hot shower.  Although this one could not be held in comparison to the ones on Phoenix, it still managed to awaken her brain and limber up her muscles.  She thought of Mark as she dressed in her red floaty top and black flirty skirt and slipped on her heels.  The same she’d worn when they’d gone dancing.   

“Ready.”

“Your timing is impeccable.” Anora said when she opened the door to Ange’s knock. “Shall we depart?”

“Where are we going?” Julia asked of no one in particular as they rode the elevator down to the lobby.

“The concierge gave me directions to a really great club.” Valentina waved a lime-green post-it. “He said all the guests rave about it.”

“High praise.” Julia thought it improbable their stiff upper lip concierge would use the phrase
really great
and
rave
in one conversation, if ever.

When the cab dropped them outside
Obscure
, they didn’t have to queue behind the red velvet rope with the other hopefuls.  A muscular bouncer sporting leg-of-lamb forearms and a red tee at least three sizes too small signaled them through. “Ladies, you are lookin’
fine
tonight.”

“You know it, Sugar.” Valentina laughed, leaned up and in to plant a hot pink kiss on his cheek - complete with foot pop - before patting one bulging pec and herding her stunned friends into the dark interior of the club.

The concierge’s Intel was on the money.  A crowded dance floor brimming with the enthusiastic gyrations of
Obscure
’s patrons was the focal point.  Chaotic light shards from the disco ball sparkled the dancers; contrasted with the electric blue of the screens adorning the walls, and bled into the sensual red haze and dark shadows.  Groups of crimson leather couches and dark wood tables, each with a small table lamp spilling a pool of warm yellow light beneath its red shade, offered a buffer between dancefloor and the bar that ran the length of the wall. 

Julia’s heartbeat kicked up, the hectic base thrumming in her bones.  Ange tapped her on the shoulder and signaled toward the crowd shouting their orders to a bevy of bartenders clad in the same red tee as the bouncer, while Anora and Valentina secured a couch close to the dance floor.

The first of the bourbon shots slid like fire down Julia’s throat and she gasped, reaching for another from the tray Ange had slid to the center of the table. “Let’s dance!”

All four women pushed up from their seats on cue and laughed.  They danced together amid the throng of jumping surging bodies, arms waving like the tentacles of a strange creature luring more prey into its midst.  Julia was having a blast.  Blinking colored tiles and glints of silver decorated their skin as they sang loud and off-key to dated eighties favorites everyone knew the lyrics to.  A return to the table for liquid refreshment spurred another round of dancing, followed by more shots and a conga started by Valentina and taken up by everyone including a hesitant Anora.

They stumbled out of
Obscure
’s side exit well past pumpkin hour, heads buzzing amid laugher and hiccupping as they ineptly held each other up.

“Let’s eat.” Julia suggested in an overloud voice, hearing still adjusting to the silence of the deserted street after the tsunami of sound. “I could murder a burger and chips.”

“Cheeups? What are cheeups?” Valentina mimicked a British accent and hiccupped at her own joke. 

“Burger Shack’s
just down the block.” Ange said, the fingers of her right hand sluggish on the screen of her palmpod, while she waved down a cab with the other. 

Julia admired her ability to multi-task even after however many shots her friend had consumed.  The cab, though, was a wise decision.  None of them was capable of walking three feet, let alone down the block.

The half-pound cheeseburger she ordered was delicious, the perfect sponge for the alcohol; and her
fries
– she smirked to herself – were hot and tasted sublime when she dipped them in her vanilla shake.  Silence prevailed while they ate.  But the junk food, instead of giving her energy, drained the little she had left away.  She was exhausted, and judging by the state of her friends, they felt the same way.  They caught a cab back to the hotel and in a repeat of the previous day, Julia collapsed fully-clothed on the bed and fell instantly asleep.