Page 12 of The Expiration Date

Nerves bundle in my stomach as I ride the elevator up to my hotel room. The nerves have been a constant resident since we got off the plane at JFK, knowing that the big reveal of our relationship will be tonight at the premiere. The only ease I feel is from being back in New York: a familiar friend that I desperately needed to revisit. Aidan offered for me to stay at his apartment– ”You know, to help with appearances',” as he put it. Stubbornly, and truthfully out of fear, I insisted that I stay at a hotel a couple of blocks away. I’ve been getting more comfortable around Aidan in my new capacity as his fake girlfriend, but not comfortable enough to stay with him in his apartment. An apartment, I might add, that overlooks Central Park.

I am mentally running through all the tips and tricks Rachel has taught me for the past three years about applying makeup. I need to look worthy of being next to Aidan on that red carpet. I really hope we can sell this whole charade. After several attempts, the lock turns green and clicked. Pushing the door open, I am instantly bombarded with racks of dresses. No, not dresses–gowns. My jaw drops at the gorgeous couture that fills nearly the entire hotel room. On the bedside table, I see a huge bouquet of red roses and a small note. I pick up the note and read:

Thank you for agreeing to this insane idea, Hales. I had Bree (the stylist who helps my mom get ready for premieres when we are in NYC) come by with plenty of dresses to choose from. I know you were worried about that. Oh and there might be a few more surprises heading your way. ;) See you later–A.

What other surprises? The nerves return in full force as my phone buzzes. Rachel. I sweep the “answer” bar on my phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey girlie! Are you ready for tonight?”

“Not even close, Rach.” I plop onto the massive king bed. I told Aidan I would be fine with a standard hotel room. But nope. He had to get the fricken presidential suite. “I have no idea where to start with my makeup and apparently there’s this stylist who is supposed to help. I don’t know. I’m so nervous. I wish you were here to help me get ready.”

“Well, maybe you should open your door because there may be something out there that I sent over to help.”

What? I literally got to my room not even two minutes ago. I didn’t see any package. Plus, the front desk would’ve likely fielded a whole receiving-packages situation. And then I hear a knock.

“Oh, Rach. This may be whatever you sent me. Hold on.” Without looking through the peephole, I open the door.

Standing there is none other than my sassy, red-headed roommate herself.

“Oh my god. You’re the surprise??” I pull her in for a hug. “I am so happy and relieved you’re here!”

“Me too. Aidan flew me out. He said he could tell how nervous you were for this event. Plus, I haven’t been out here in a while. This is going to be so fun! This is kind of your Pretty Woman moment, sans the whole hooker thing and oh my heavens…look at these beauties.”

Rachel strides in with her two suitcases, one filled with what I assume is all the makeup in the world. She runs her fingers through the rack of gowns. “Aidan has good taste.”

“I don’t know if it’s necessarily Aidan who has good taste. I think Bree has good taste.”

“Who’s Bree?”

“The stylist who dropped these off.”

“Well either way, these dresses are spectacular. So we have a few hours before Aidan picks you up for the premiere, right?” Rachel asks.

“Yes. He should be here around 7 p.m. He said that it is okay if we are fashionably late for these things. I think the movie is showing at 8 p.m. so there’s a whole hour of red carpet and interviews that he has to do before we even sit down. I need to wear the comfiest possible heels out of these insane options.” I gaze down at the rows of stilettos. I am definitely going to fall on my face like Agent Gracie Hart in Miss Congeniality after she gets her own makeover. Then out of the corner of my eye, I see some blush sparkly heels with more of a block heel. They are still outrageously tall, but the block heel will help my balance substantially.

“These are the ones, Rach. Okay, I need to pick out a dress.”

Across the room, Rachel is hurriedly texting away with a goofy smile. Normally I would investigate the texting-and-goofy-smile combo, but I don’t have time for that right now. I continue, “This movie is a romantic comedy, so I feel like I need to go for a romantic dress, what do you think?”

I hear the message send and Rachel says, “Sounds great. Sorry, that was Aidan texting me.”

My smile flattens. “He changed his mind. I knew it.” A sliver of disappointment finds its way into my stomach, replacing the nerves that were there before.

“Oh no honey, he is not canceling on you at ALL,” Rachel reassures me. “I was just checking to see what color his suit is going to be. I figured it would be classic black. That’s easy for us because now we can pick whatever dress we want. And yes, I agree. We need to go the romantic route–but Hales, I think you should show off your body a little bit. If you are going to be next to the sexiest man alive, then you need to exude at least some sex appeal.” She gently paws through the racks, shaking her head, pursing her lips. I can mentally imagine her saying, No, no, no, no. And she gasps, “This is it!”

I look at the gown she picked out: a long, form-fitting, silky red gown with a very long slit. “Um, I am going to veto this one.”

“Why? It’s super sexy. And what color is more romantic than red?”

“It’s a little too sexy. The slit would go all the way up my leg and practically show my underwear. ”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“I would look like Jessica Rabbit in this dress.”

“Hey, Jessica Rabbit is hot. All the men would practically drool all over you. Aidan included. ”

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