Shy Town Girls Read Online Free PDF

swooped up four menus, whisked us over to a great
four-seater overlooking Rush Street and daintily passed the
menus.
    “What was that?” I asked Ivy.
    “What?” Ivy shrugged. “Jacob’s one of my bosses at
the PR firm, and he owns like half the city,” she said. “I knew he
was out of town.”
    “Really?” said Ella with an arched brow. In my line
of work, I had certainly met a quite a few divas who knew how to
secure the VIP treatment, and I was proud to say one of them was my
new roommate.
    As we’d walked to our table, I noticed all eyes were
on our foursome. That’s when I realized I was traveling with a
highly attractive entourage. Ella was rocking some Jeffrey Campbell
boots, making her legs look like they went on for days. Meryl wore
pale pink lace and carried a Birkin bag; and Ivy was stunning in a
black satin dress that glistened in the dim lighting. I knew my
trademark red dress flattered my figure, and my confidence was
boosted by our runway walk from the front door to our table. Being
with these girls helped keep my shyness at bay. I waved the
bartender over; he must not have been a day over twenty-one. He
smiled cutely, “What can I get you ladies?”
    “St. Germaine’s and soda for me,” I said. “What are
you girls drinking? Tonight’s on me.”
    “Oh no, Bobbie. You’re not buying!” Meryl tapped my
hand three times. This was her signal for me to back down.
    “Nothing for me. I’m not drinking,” Ella said.
    “Oh, come on Ella, just one drink,” I insisted. She
looked at me with a chilly expression, and I instantly regretted my
words.
    But then she shrugged her shoulders. “Okay,” she
said, giving in. “One won’t kill me. Pinot Grigio, okay?”
    I smiled with relief.
    “Holy hot bartender!” Ivy shouted as the bartender
walked away. “I triple dog dare you to leave your number on a
napkin.” I did.
    Our conversation finally began to flow like the
drinks I continued to order. We all had much more in common than I
had previously guessed. I discovered Ella had been a dancer for the
majority of her life, which explained her poise. I assumed she was
the kind of person who expressed herself without words. I happily
informed her that we weren’t so different. I’d been a dancer for
fifteen years but I had only stuck with my ballet career as long as
I did only because my mother had insisted that it gave me grace.
Ella’s passionate side came out as she told the stories of her past
performances. She had danced in the Joffrey Nutcracker and still
took classes at Hubbard Street. Ella urged me to come with her some
time. She was much more talkative after her first cocktail, and
although I had no desire ever to put my feet back into a pair of
ballet shoes, I thought it might be worthwhile if it helped us
bond.
    Ivy went to the bathroom three times while we were at
the table. She said she had a nervous bladder. I wasn’t sure what
that meant, but her anxious energy was contagious. I couldn’t help
but laugh at her whimsical personality. She was drinking rum and
Coke—and not Diet Coke. I wondered where all the calories went in
her slim figure.
    The jazzy music of the restaurant put me at ease
along with the hum of voices and clinking forks and knives. The
four of us decided to order several appetizers instead of entrees.
We picked, sipped, and chatted. I hadn’t been surrounded by so many
girls in quite some time. I was on my third drink when I found
myself revealing a side of me that I usually kept hidden.
    “I might just have another drink!” Ella said.
    “Easy, tiger,” Ivy warned. “Let’s relocate to Luxe
Bar for drinks. My friend Danny is working and that means free
drinks. Wahoo!”
    “You mean Danny Danny? Your slampiece?” Ella
snorted.
    “He wishes!” Ivy threw on her coat.
    I was surprised I wasn’t tired, like I usually felt
after a few drinks, but it was hard not to be energized around the
girls. Ivy took my hand and danced into the entrance of Luxe bar,
the