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The other woman nodded. “He wanted me to be sure to tell you there was no problem paying the Guild rate for tonight.”
“I’m sorry—what?” Micki couldn’t take the words in.
“We paid the Guild rate for your time,” Sydni said in a puzzled tone. “He didn’t want you to be worried about getting in trouble for attending the event and not being paid properly for the hours.” She shrugged and checked her makeup in the mirror. “I guess the rules for professional dancers are strict, huh? But I sent the credits to your account.”
“You’re saying this was a paid performance?” Micki asked, heart pounding. There was a buzzing in her ears.
“Well, yes.” Sydni gestured at the dress. “The costume was a business write-off and again, we paid the standard Guild rate. Is there a problem?” Eyebrows raised, she studied Micki for a moment and then broke into laughter. “I’m sorry, did you think this was an actual date?”
Micki grabbed her purse from the marble counter and fled. Outside the bathroom she braced herself against the wall and tried to breathe but her heart hurt too badly. She didn’t care if people were staring—she had to get out of here before she broke down. Turning to her left she identified a service door and pushed through it as if there were Mawreg soldiers chasing her. She tore off the shoes and descended the stairs barefoot, emerging in a corridor crowded with serving staff.
“How do I get to the front entrance of the hotel from here?” she asked the nearest woman.
“Straight that way and first door on your left. Are you all right, ma’am?”
Micki didn’t answer her but ran barefoot until she reached the indicated exit. Once in the lobby she put her shoes back on with trembling hands and crept around the edge of the vast space to reach the door. Fortunately the red carpet and the media hordes were gone. She grabbed a bellboy. “I need a robocab right away. It’s an emergency.”
“Take thirty minutes to get a robocab, but there’s a standard cab right there.” He pointed to a bright yellow groundcar idling at the curb. “Just arrived and dropped off his passengers, late to the charity ball.”
Micki ran to the groundcar, praying none of the Benfield security guards were in the vicinity to see her. The driver lowered his window. “Off duty, miss. I’m going home now.”
She kept her grip on his car. “There’s an extra two hundred credits in it if you can get me to the spaceport shuttle bay right away. Please, I’m desperate.”
He studied her for a minute and then his kindly face crinkled into good humored agreement. “You got it, lady, climb in.”
The fare to the spaceport was tiny since it was so close to the hotel but Micki considered the extra credits well worth it to be sure of escaping a confrontation with Josh. How could he treat her so shabbily? But the more she reviewed the events of the evening through this new filter, he’d never once introduced her as his girlfriend to anyone. Maybe it was her fault for assuming way too much as usual and putting her heart out there to be crushed.
The groundcar pulled up to the shuttle passenger area. “Are you going to be all right, miss?”
“I’ll be fine, thank you so much.”
“You’re on that dancing show, aren’t you? The ISD thing?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Thought I recognized you. My wife watches it—she’s a total fan. Wait till I tell her I had you in my taxi tonight.” He sounded so gleeful Micki forced herself to smile for him.
“Tell her hello and please to vote for me,” she said cheerfully and exited the taxi.
She was running again, through the terminal. She had only a couple of minutes to make the regularly scheduled CLC shuttle back to the Nebula Zephyr. The realization she didn’t have her employee ID with her struck as she entered the shuttle bay and saw the craft getting ready to lift off. Someone jostled her and as he paused to apologize, she grabbed his arm.
“Shane? Oh thank the Lords. I need to get back to the ship right away and I don’t have my ID.”
“Sure, Micki, I’ll vouch for you,” the pilot said. “Are you all right? You don’t look too good, if you’ll pardon me saying so.”
“I got sick at dinner, bad seafood,” she lied. “All I want is to get to my cabin and sleep.” And cry my eyes out.
He escorted her solicitously to the shuttle and made sure she was comfortable in one of the best seats before he entered the cockpit to handle his pre-liftoff duties. Micki curled up in the chair and fought her tears. There were only a few other people in the shuttle and they ignored her. Probably think I’m the pilot’s girlfriend.
Once the shuttle reached the Nebula Zephyr she impatiently trailed behind the passengers down the ramp, where she broke free from the small knot of people and hurried across the huge landing bay to the nearest crew access corridor. Only then could she relax even a little bit. She made it to her cabin without encountering anyone she knew and once inside she broke down completely, falling onto her couch and weeping until the cushions were soaked.
Eventually she made herself get up and washed her face before stripping off the shoes and the dress, which she left in a crumpled heap on the deck. Her handheld was buzzing with messages from Josh so she turned it off and threw it on top of the dress. She made a beeline for her bedroom and paused to take a strong sleep aid from her med cabinet, after which she went to bed and drifted off under the influence of the meds.
Her dreams were stormy and chaotic and if she wept in her sleep, she didn’t realize it.
Pounding on her cabin door woke her up an indeterminate time later and Micki staggered to the portal to check who was demanding to see her. Once she saw the visitor was Tassia, she allowed her to enter and fell into her friend’s arms.
“Lords of Space, what happened to you?” Tassia asked, taking her to the couch and sitting down to hug her. “When I didn’t hear from you I got worried and then you didn’t answer my messages and we had a call from Josh Benfield asking if we’d seen you and?—”
