Feels Like the First Time. Tawny Weber

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СКАЧАТЬ She’d refused to wear the thigh-high pleather boots. Instead, she’d substituted her own ankle boots. Sexy shoes were mandatory, even when offset by fishnets and studs.

      The majority of the outfit consisted of the boots and a wide, ruffled leather-and-lace miniskirt, with its nod to modesty. The rest was a black leather bikini top, slender strips anchoring it to a studded choker on top, and crisscrossing to the tiny panties hidden by her skirt on the bottom. Studded cuffs and a leather crop completed the outfit.

      At least, she assured herself as she tugged at the skirt again, her body was pretty well covered. If you counted fishnet and leather straps as coverage.

      Way to make an impression after ten years. Realizing she was freaking out over the same people who’d judged her so rudely before, Zoe repeated to herself that she didn’t give two good damns what they all thought. She pulled back her shoulders and stuck out her chest. Then she glanced down. Maybe not quite that much, she winced as she noted the spikes on the black leather and adjusted her spine. No point in damaging someone accidentally before she found Gandalf. And, she reasoned, she’d dressed Goth her entire three years at Central High. How was this so different? Still black, still filled with attitude. Just a little less … fabric. And this time she had a handy-dandy riding crop to deal with anyone who got snotty.

      Snickering at that idea, Zoe patted the BlackBerry clipped to her waist. Since almost every troubleshooting job she’d taken in the past year had been in the communications field, it was the sole clue to her actual career.

      To say nothing of her means of escape. Dex had said he’d contact her at some point tonight to get together. She just hoped it was during the party.

      Fifteen minutes later and Zoe could only laugh and shake her head. What was the shelf life on immaturity? Twenty-eight years old and these people still acted like teenagers. You’d think the guys would have at least learned a few new pickup lines.

      Tapping her crop against her thigh, she made her way through the loud, humid room.

      “Do you charge by the hour?” one guy said as she turned sideways to try to get past him to reach the committee’s table.

      “You couldn’t afford me,” Zoe said with a wink and a wave of her crop. She recognized him as a football player. If he’d recognized her, he’d have been crossing his legs.

      By the time she reached the table to sign in, she’d been hit on five times, insulted eight and even though nobody had recognized her, she’d been treated with the same disdain as she’d hated in school.

      It really was just like old times.

      She automatically tucked the hurt away, firmly enmeshed in her old screw-you attitude, and lifted her chin.

      “Zoe Gaston, checking in,” she said to the puppy dog across the table. The woman was sporting a full body of fur, floppy ears and black-nosed whiskers.

      “Gaston?” The puppy ran her paw down the chart, found Zoe’s name and, while her eyes were huge as she took in the black leather ensemble, she just smiled and handed Zoe her name tag. “Please step over to the photo booth.”

      “Why?”

      “Everyone whose costume qualifies for the reunion contest has to have their picture taken.”

      “What’re the qualifications?”

      “That your costume doesn’t give away what you really do for a living,” the puppy said, and then she winked. “I’m guessing you don’t support yourself with spankings?”

      Zoe blinked in surprise at the smile and friendly joke, then she laughed and said, “Nah, spankings barely keep me in grocery money,” before returning the grin and moving to the picture line.

      Zoe said cheese. The photographer, who she recognized as her old P.E. teacher, gave her the clear signal and as she slid off the stool, he commented, “You’re the best costume since Brad’s.”

      “Brad Young?” she asked. “What’s he dressed as?”

      “A wizard. Great cape.” With that, the guy turned to the next person, camera at the ready and Zoe forgotten.

      Brad. Figured. All the signs had been pointing to Brad Young, and now he was dressed as a wizard. Didn’t that say it all? Zoe shook her head. Of all possibilities, it had to be the guy who’d rejected her. She forced herself to quit the mental whine-fest. She’d been way out of her league with Brad ten years ago. She wasn’t now. This time, she’d call the shots and he’d be grateful. She’d find him, maybe flirt a little. If he was Gandalf, she’d contact Zach, find out what he wanted her to do, then get the hell out of Dodge. And leave Brad Young panting in her dust. Perfect.

      Her eyes peeled for a pointy hat, Zoe reviewed her plan for the night. Connect with Brad was number one for the Gandalf quest. She tapped her crop against her thigh as nervous anticipation shimmied in her belly. She couldn’t wait to see the look on her old crush’s face when he caught a load of what he’d given up to chase a pair of pom-poms.

      Cautioning herself against getting too cocky or tunnel-focused that Brad was her man, she scanned the room. There were three other guys whose careers she hadn’t managed to verify before the reunion. Since all she had to go on were their graduation pictures, she figured she’d watch for name badges and costume giveaways. Any guy sporting a joystick was on her follow-up list.

      “Well, well. You still haven’t found any color other than black, hmm?”

      Chin high, Zoe turned around. Her jaw clenched as she forced her lips into a smile.

      Candice Love. Central High’s homecoming queen, head cheerleader and girl voted most likely to have the world bowing at her feet.

      Lovely.

      Zoe straightened her shoulders, cocked her hip to one side and lifted her chin. Attitude to the rescue.

      “I could barely believe my ears when Julie told me you were here. Zoe Gaston, the geeky virgin.” Candice gave a tinkle of icy laughter as she eyed Zoe up and down with artfully rounded blue eyes. “You did know this costume party was to guess your career, right? Not to try to deny your graduating title?”

      Zoe inspected the blonde’s costume, then raised a brow. “Really? And you realized it’s 2009, right? Not 1999? Or has life been so bad since school that you’re living in the past?”

      Fair question, given that Candice was wearing a cheerleader costume. Not quite the same as the one she’d worn in school, instead of a C on her low-cut sweater, there was a picture of a bee wearing a crown and a bunch of tiny bees lined up like her court. What the hell? Queen-bee bitch was now a job designation? Contrary to Zoe’s petty hopes, Candice hadn’t sagged, uglified or turned into a toad in the past decade. Nope. Blondie was still trim, perky and pretty. Figured.

      “I’m in costume,” Candice dismissed. “Apparently we both held on to quite a bit of our high-school personas, hmm?”

      Charming as always. Zoe decided then and there she wasn’t giving Candice a second more of her time than she had to. Stealing Gandalf out from under her nose would be her reward for resisting the urge to fling insults.

      “Apparently,” was all Zoe said, flourishing her riding crop with a quirk of her brow. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m supposed to meet СКАЧАТЬ