CHAPTER FOUR — STEPHANIE
I swing open the door, feeling guilty. He doesn't say anything, just walks inside, closes the door, and looks at me. He looks up at the smoke detector that's beeping, and then back at me. I avert my eyes and look at the ground.
I can't believe this. In all the time I've lived here, I've never set off the smoke alarm by vaping until today. Part of me wonders if I did this on purpose, if it was a cry for attention. I don't think it was, though. I mean, I've smoked inside before. Maybe I was just inside for too long today.
I think about denying it, coming up with some other reason for why the smoke alarm went off, but I don't have it in me. I don't think he'll buy it.
"How did this happen, Stephanie?"
He looks at me. He's speaking so calmly that it scares me. Fuck, maybe I should lie.
"I was cook—"
"Stop," he says. "You're lying. You were vaping."
"I don't—"
"I can smell it," he says, interrupting me again.
Fuck.
"First, let me deal with this," he says, "and then we'll talk. Go to your room."
My stomach drops, and I feel butterflies. At the last second, he looks down, giving my body a once-over. A tingling sensation starts. I feel more nervous than I ever have.
"Now, Stephanie," he says. "And I want you wearing the sluttiest outfit or lingerie you have when I get there. And don't even think of fooling me by putting on anything less than the most whorish thing you own. Remember, I've seen your maid costume. And you don't want to test me right now."
My entire body feels electrified.
He turns away and pulls up a chair. I watch as he stands on it and starts to adjust the smoke detector. I turn and go to my bedroom.
Oh my God. My mouth suddenly feels dry, and I can feel my heart racing. What is he going to do? I feel giddy but scared at the same time.
I could try to disobey him, but I don't think that's a good move right now. And besides, I don't really want to.
I open the drawer in my dresser where I store all of my underwear and lingerie.
I rifle through it. I know exactly what I'm looking for.
I fish out the short plaid skirt and white cropped blouse, and then I grab the white knee-high socks to match.
I rifle through my underwear as well, picking out a lacy black thong and matching bra.
I quickly slip off my clothes, then put on the underwear and the outfit. The skirt is so short it's hardly longer than the underwear. It's not even a Halloween costume, it's just lingerie. The shirt exposes my entire stomach, and it's cut so low you can see my bra.
At the last second, I throw my hair into two pigtails. Perfect, I think, looking at myself in the mirror. I look like a Playboy Britney Spears.
I sit on the edge of my bed, suddenly self-conscious about my hands.
I fiddle around, changing positions. I try crossing my legs, sitting cross-legged.
I don't know why I'm this nervous. I'm still trying to figure out how to position myself when the door swings open.
Just as soon as it opens, it closes, and David looks at me.
"You're in big trouble," he says.