Chapter Nine Estera Roberts’ POV (Present Time: A Few Days Before)

The surgery didn’t take me more than an hour, and we were on our way out of the hospital's main entrance by seven-thirty in the evening.
“What’s the plan?” I asked as we walked past the parking lot heading away from Madison Avenue to Riverside Boulevard walking towards E 99th St.
“We go home to change, and join the girls at Sapphire nightclub,” Ashley said, “They want us to watch them perform, before giving us a few pointers. And tomorrow we go shopping!”
“It’s a good thing tomorrow is Saturday, I am beat!” I said, sounding like I felt -- tired.
“Thank you, Estie for doing this,” Ashley said and I waved her off.
“We need something fun for a change anyway,” Ameera said.
“Are you saying our lives are boring, Doctor Ameera?” I said in theatrical shock. She giggled and rolled her eyes.
“Our lives are a boring routine, Doctor Roberts, we are in dire need of an adventure,” she said with a sigh.
About ten minutes later we were already at our apartment building. We chatted animatedly as we headed inside the sleek elevator that took us to the topmost floor. Ashley opened the door with her key and we all fanned out towards our bedroom door.
The common area was an open floor studio with side glass walls overlooking the glamorous high-rise buildings of New York and the busy streets. On the left side of the expansive space just down the short hallway from the entrance door was a fully equipped kitchen. And to the right, just directly opposite, was the sitting area. It had a three-seater chaise sofa on one side and two bucket sofa chairs on the other, a glass-top coffee table was at the center over a cream-colored area rug. A medium-size chandelier hovered at the center of the white ceiling, making the space quite classy.
I unlocked my bedroom door, and walked in, inhaling the familiar fragrance of the fresh rose and jasmine flower on the coffee table at the corner of my room.
Quickly undressing, I hurried to my adjoining bathroom to take a shower. The bathroom was small but more than functional. It had a medium-sized Jacuzzi with a shower stall, a two-seater bucket sofa chair in a corner with a single wooden stool at the side. A vanity mirror hung on the left wall, and both the wall and floor were covered with white marble with gray streaks. A white plush area rug was at the center of the room and neatly folded towels were well-arranged on a side rack.
The ceiling was plastered white with tiny halogen lights embedded in it and a globe-shaped chandelier dangled at the center of it.
I padded out of the room, toweling my body as I went to a tabletop refrigerator at a corner of the wall facing my bed. Pulling the door open, I brought out my share of two slices of cold pizza I had left there the night before with a bottle of water and started to eat. I had thought to microwave it, but I didn’t want to keep the girls waiting.
My phone chimed with a notification message as I was pulling on a body-hugging black dress I had bought but hadn't had the chance to wear for close to a month now. I picked the phone up from atop my bed stand while pulling the dress down to settle on my body snugly.
I went to stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom and picked up my hairbrush as I opened the message. A small smile crept on my face when I saw who it was.
Cole Foster was a plastic surgeon at Memorial Hospital and a mixed-raced Afro-Latino. He was an exotic-looking, perfectly built man with a face of a god, and a pair of dark-brown mesmerizing eyes that could make any heart swoon. Half of the ladies in Memorial want him, and I am fairly certain, a few must have wet dreams about the man, judging by the manner eyes tend to trail him when he stalks down the hospital hallways. And of all the women in the Memorial, it was beginning to look as if he wanted me.
He had subtly invited me for coffee twice now and I had to call for a rain check because he always tends to ask at the wrong time, and as a result, he often jokingly teased me about our pending coffee dates and how many of which I owe him.
“Hey! I saw you leaving the hospital a while back with your friends, I suppose you have something planned for the weekend?” I read his message and slowly perched on the sofa in the bathroom, biting the corner of my lower lip.
“Hello, Cole. Yes, I do. Why did you ask?” I typed deftly, smiling to myself.
“You know… the usual,” he responded, adding a geeky emoji. I chuckled, remembering seeing him in glasses and noting how devastatingly handsome he was regardless.
“How about I chat you up anytime I’m free?”
“I will love that, Roberts,” he responded with a grinning emoji. I sighed and put the phone away.
“Estie!” I heard Ameera call in that British accent of hers. My grin widened.
“I'm ready!” I answered, running the comb through my hair again and rushing out, hopping as I tried to slip on my black lace-up sneakers.
We took a cab to the upper East side and entered the swanky establishment through the back door. Apparently one of the girls had informed the security men we were expected which made it less awkward for us. I couldn’t help looking back over my shoulders to be sure nobody was paying particular attention to us. I have never been inside a strip club before so I have no idea what to expect. Even the magic Mike movie did not prepare me for the glamor and glitz of the place. Everything just seemed … showy and dark like a den of sin. The analogy brought a smile to my face. I mean it is a strip club.
A lady in flimsy wear ushered us to the dressing room, and we tried to not get in the way as a few of the girls rushed about, evidently preparing for the night.
I recognized two of the girls as soon as we entered the cramped space. They were both at the far end of the dressing room, applying finishing touches to their makeup. The girl who brought us in walked further in to whisper something in their ears and they both looked in our direction. Ashley raised her hand hesitantly to wave at them. They flashed a smile and waved us over. We shuffled through to join them. One of the girls stood up while the other just wheeled around to face us in her seat.
“Well, to tell you the truth we didn’t think you girls would show up,” the one seated said, then stood up.
“Hello, Anna, and Tamika, meet my friends, Doctor--Ameera and Estera,” Ashley introduced. Ameera raised her hand to wave and I nodded with a polite smile.