Free Reinventing Rachel by Alison Strobel Page B

that.”
    “I mean, tell me guys aren’t going to think I’m begging for … something.”
    “Well, they might.”
    Rachel froze. “What?”
    “But it doesn’t matter what they think. You dress for you, not for other people. You dress for how your clothes make you feel.”
    Rachel zipped up the back and examined herself in the mirror. She certainly liked how it made her feel—and look. Not that it meant it was okay, regardless of what Daphne said. She opened the door and Daphne let out a hoot. “Hold your horses, cowgirl,” Rachel said. “I don’t want to get myself in any trouble.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You just said guys might think this is some kind of invitation.”
    Daphne waved a hand. “Well, maybe, but your attitude will go a long way in sending that invitation too—or not. Act like a tramp, you’ll get treated like a tramp. Act like a lady, you’ll get treated like a lady. Most of the time, anyway. And I can’t imagine you ever acting any way but ladylike, so I wouldn’t worry. Plus, you know I’ll totally have your back.”
    “You’d better.”
    “You know I will.” Daphne smiled. “Have I ever steered you wrong?” Rachel admitted she hadn’t. Though there’s a first time for everything.
    o
     
    The evening air as they walked toward the Mirage felt only slightly cooler than it had earlier that afternoon. Despite the time of night, the sidewalk was still bustling and the traffic still bumper to bumper. “This really ought to be labeled the city that never sleeps.”
    Daphne laughed. “Seriously. What could New York possibly have over Vegas?”
    Rachel shied away from yet another person shoving advertisements for escort services in her face. “Class, perhaps.”
    Catcalls and wolf whistles followed them to the casino, and while each one made Rachel flush again with embarrassment, Daphne seemed to neither care nor even notice. Rachel made a mental note to ask her later how she managed to cultivate such cool confidence. She could use some of that.
    They reached the entrance to the JET Nightclub, and Daphne handed over her two VIP tickets. They were directed to the velvet rope and ushered past the long line of those waiting to get in. Rachel followed close behind Daphne as they entered the first of JET’s three dance rooms. “Let’s stay here,” Daphne said over the thumping bass. “Good dance music, and I hear it’s a lot more crowded in the main room.”
    Rachel kept an eye on her, trying to mimic her careless posture and easy confidence. They skirted the dance floor and headed to the bar, where Daphne ordered drinks.
    “Cosmopolitans,” Daphne explained as Rachel sipped the fruity cocktail. “I’ll get some waters later on too—don’t want to get dehydrated, and alcohol just makes that worse.”
    They scoped out the room for a place to park themselves, then Daphne hooked her arm through Rachel’s and led her to a place against a far wall. Even after spending a few minutes studying how others were dancing, Rachel still found herself doubting her ability to not stick out like a sore thumb. “Here we go,” Daphne said close to her ear, a minute later. “Are you ready to dance?”
    “Why don’t you start, and I’ll jump in when I’m ready.”
    Daphne swigged the remainder of her drink and set it on a bar table, then headed to the floor. As she undulated in her bra-like top and skinny pants, eyes closed and limbs moving like ribbon in water, Rachel was overcome with a sense of internal chaos. She was so far from her comfort zone she couldn’t even spot it with binoculars. She looked down at her dress and smoothed her hair. This was so not her—at least, not the old her. Perhaps she would find this environment inviting after she’d had more time to adjust her thinking. She took a gulp of her cosmo, hoping it would speed up the process.
    The music changed, and Rachel found herself drawn to the dance floor. Might as well give it a shot. She set her empty glass down