Chapter 10- Daisy
I s there a problem, husband?
“Daisy, this is so generous of you.”
“It’s the least I could do, Tina. The store will deliver the shoes and socks tomorrow. Spread the word but keep my name out of it, okay?” If Grant’s giving his gold-digging, con artist trophy wife an allowance, you’d better believe I’ll use it to help those who are worse off than me.
Anders is calling again when I walk out of the homeless shelter. I gave him the slip when I went to Mimi’s. Maybe he’d want to help but a Rolls Royce around here would be noticed without a doubt and it’s wiser to fly under the radar in the Tenderloin District.
I need to figure out a way to get Mimi moved to a better retirement home, somewhere she won’t feel compelled to ignore my question when I ask if they’re being kind to her. My next ‘shopping spree’ will definitely go toward that.
The phone rings again but I’ve got one more stop to make.
“Good, you’re not dead,” my sister says when she answers the door.
“Not dead,” I confirm, hugging her.
“That’s a nice sweater. Where have you been?”
“Staying with a, um… new friend. Here, I bought two. One for me, one for you. Call it early Christmas.”
Her expression turns pinched. I’m not sure why it bothers her to accept things from me when she puts up with Rod because he pays for things. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
“I know we’re twins but it’s been a long time since we wore matching clothes.”
“Lord, don’t remind me,” I say, laughing. We are nearly identical and matching clothes when we were kids only reinforced the illusion. Our poor teachers were constantly calling us by the wrong name.
“Nancy Lynn’s?” she says, noting the shopping bag. “I haven't seen that place since Mom…” She trails off, both of us feeling the loss when we think on happier days. “What have you been up to, Daisy?”
“Just work and seeing Mimi. She keeps asking about you.”
“Yeah, I’ve been… busy. I’ll go see her soon.”
But, I know she won’t.
It’s not that Jewel is a bad person. She just struggles to accept things as they are. She doesn’t like seeing our grandmother in her reduced circumstances. She doesn’t like the way Mimi speaks her mind about her boyfriend either. My homelessness embarrasses her. I’m not sure who she thinks we still need to impress.
“Who’s there?” an angry male voice asks from the bedroom. Rod. Dammit. I thought he’d be at his auto detailing shop this time of day. I’ve not seen him since the last time I was sleeping on that faded lime-colored sofa in the corner and he decided it was time I woke up and earned my place around here.
“The milkman,” Jewel calls back, her tone just sweet enough to draw a chuckle from the next room. I don’t understand how they work. I’m not sure I want to. But, I know I won’t stay here when he’s around.
“Here, I dropped by to give you the sweater and my new cell number. You can call me if you need me, Jewel. Anytime, okay?”
“What the… that phone costs at least a thousand bucks, Daisy!”
“I got a new job. Better pay.” An unusual job with life-changing pay . I’ll tell her but how do I explain it? Especially when I don’t want Rod to find out.
“Where’s this better paying job?” she asks, skeptically.
“Outside the city. I’ll tell you more later but I should-”
“The milkman looks like your twin sister,” Rod says sourly from the doorway of the bedroom. He’s wearing tighty-whities and a wife beater tee, his favorite ensemble when he’s not at work.
“She was just dropping by,” Jewel says, shooting me a look.
“Fine. Make me some bacon, woman,” he tells Jewel. He smirks when she dutifully scuttles away and my fists clench in anger. I will never be dependent on a man like him. “What’d you want, little freeloader? You want to stay here again?”
Fat chance, Mr. I’ve Always Wanted to Fuck Twin Sisters. “I just wanted to see Jewel. I’m going.”
As I’m leaving, I hear Rod ask her if the sweater still has tags on it. He’ll probably make her return it in hopes of some quick cash, the ass. It will just go back on Grant’s card if he does.
Dissatisfied with my day after that encounter, I trudge the handful of blocks back to where I left Anders. For once, he does not have a ready grin for me. “Do you realize how pissed he is at me for letting you wander off?”
“He who?”
“Your husband, of course! Please, get in. He wants you brought to his office.”
Ah, I’ve been summoned. Other than giving me the phone via Anders and calling to inform me of our New Year’s plans, I’ve barely interacted with Grant since our wedding day and the embarrassing wedding night. It’s fine. I’ve been getting used to life on the estate. I enjoy taking tea with Mrs. Keating every afternoon. I watch Jenna work her magic in the kitchen and I take walks with Luis while we visit the ducks. I don’t miss Grant. Not really. Thank goodness for Mad Maximus.
I have to wonder if the shoe store purchase is the reason for this. I can’t believe I spent that much but there are a lot of feet out here in need of decent shoes. I'm tempted to tell Anders I won’t go just to piss Grant off but that will only get the driver in trouble more than likely.
“Well, we mustn’t keep my darling husband waiting any longer. Let’s go,” I say cheerily, causing Anders to give me another one of his cheeky winks.
But, on the way there, I realize I’m about to set foot back inside Golden Gate Security Tech where I was a cleaning girl not so long ago and now I’m one of the partners’ wives. It’s a weird feeling because I’d swear I’m living in make-believe land most days except when I’m painting or can do something nice for others.
Luckily, I don’t have any run-ins with familiar faces before I’m whisked up the executive elevator and step out into the fancy reception area of Golden Gate’s top brass.
Only one desk is currently occupied but I recognize Grant’s assistant. I used to empty her trash bin after all and overheard her grumble about her curt and demanding boss more than once. However, it appears she doesn’t recognize me. She gives me a friendly but puzzled smile. “Hello, may I help you?”
“Hi, I’m here to see Grant.”
“I’m sorry, did you have an appointment, Miss…”
The door behind her opens so violently we both jump as my darling dearest stalks out of his office. His expression says he’s about to commit murder. With him looking so fine in that suit though, I might volunteer to be his victim.
“Barclay. She is Mrs. Barclay, Hadley, and my wife never needs an appointment or permission to visit me. Understood?” he snaps.
“Of course, sir. My apologies, ma’am,” she squeaks, eyes wide as saucers as they ping between us. Poor lady. I feel sorry for her.
“You can’t be mad at her for not knowing me,” I hiss as he grasps me by the elbow and escorts me inside, slamming the door shut behind him. “I’m surprised you remember what I look like. It’s been several days since you’ve come home.”
“Have you been missing me, Goldilocks?”
“Certainly not.” I fold my arms over my chest, less than pleased that part of me has missed Grant’s handsome face. A very small, needy part. But, he’s a jerk and a snob who thinks I’m his gold-digging trophy wife and he’ll never miss me.
I catch an enticing whiff of his bergamot and birch fragrance as he moves closer and tell myself to be strong but nothing could prepare me for what he says next. “No, I suppose you aren’t missing me when you’ve been busy cheating on me with Max.”
I look as puzzled as Hadley did a moment ago. “I have never cheated on… OH!” My cheeks catch fire and he steps even closer, a dark and dangerous look in his eyes I’ve only seen once on our wedding night when I asked about other men. “That’s not the same as cheating.”
“What if I think it is?”
“You told me our marriage was a paper one and now you don’t even want me to find any satisfaction at all, is that it? It’s not the same as if I was having sex with a man and you know it. Or do you promise not to touch your dick this entire year we’re married?”
His mouth slants downward in annoyance and I know I’ve got him there.
“Are you intimidated by my silicone friend?”
“Intimidated? No. Jealous? Perhaps. The advertisement guaranteed results every time with that model. Does it live up to its promises?”
I clamp my mouth shut, knowing Mad Maximus is a bit of a let down. Don’t get me wrong, he can get me there but it’s not quite the O-mazing experience I’d hoped for either. But, my resentment over being questioned about this burns brighter than the truth. “What do you care if it does or not?”
“Because I paid for the pink silicone cock that’s currently getting to fuck my wife. Is it doing the job or not, Daisy?” he growls, the tip of his nose just barely brushing my cheek when he leans in.
“No, not always,” I admit, ready to sink through the floor. Or maybe hump his leg. Who can think like this?
“Hmm, false advertising. You blush so readily. Do you blush when you come, Daisy?”
“I don’t know.” But, it’s a lie which only makes me blush harder, damn him. And, what is he doing? He’s confusing me with all his sexy scowling during this sex toy interrogation. “You don’t care about seeing me when I come so why are you asking?”
“Who says I don’t care to see that?” he husks right in my ear, causing my nipples to tighten. Almost as if he senses the effect he’s having, his fingers stroke my soft cashmere sweater right above my navel, setting off a chain reaction of electric pulses above and below. “I’ll admit I’ve considered it more than once since you wore your pretty little nothing for me on our wedding night.”
“I wish I hadn’t now.”
“Daisy, Daisy, Daisy… You only say that because I didn’t come up to bed with you as you expected.”
“And you never will.”
“It isn’t what we agreed on, is it?” he says, his kissable lips twisted with wry amusement, almost a smile. His palm slides over to my hip and I desperately need to get rid of this building tension. “But, I like to picture that blush on your cheeks running down your throat before it spreads over your chest, trying its best to match those rosy nipples I know are hiding under your clothes.”
“How do you know what my nipples look like?”
“I have an excellent imagination but you can always prove me wrong, I suppose.” I gulp, not sure what I want to do more - smack him or flash him. “I’ll bet, with enough effort, I could make you turn pink all over.”
“How will you ever know if you’re not-”
“I’m very driven when I have a task I want to complete. Hypothetically, I wouldn’t stop until you surrendered to pleasure, pink all over and sweetly crying my name. I’d use my fingers… my tongue… my cock. Any and every way I can think of.”
If this is another test, I think I’m going to fail. “You would… your…”
“Yes, wife. Me.” He turns me toward him and his eyes slide downward, causing me to do the same. We’re so close. We’ve never stood this close. He looks so sinfully good, powerful and determined. I hate how much I want him.
Taking hold of my hand, he caresses my ring finger, spinning the simple gold band around. My heart pounds wildly from the simple motion. “You have paint under your fingernails.”
Is that an observation or a critique? “I told you l like to paint.”
“Hmm… What else do you like, Daisy? Do you like knowing the unwanted effect you have on me?”
With a gasp, my eyes drop a little further. He’s hard through his trousers. Hard for me. It should not make me short of breath. Yet, it does.
“Mr. Barclay?” Hadley’s staticky voice breaks through my lusty haze. “Mr. Lincoln Barclay is here to see you, sir.”
Grant makes an angry growling noise and I remember the name, Lincoln Barclay, the second cousin who was going to inherit the estate if Grant didn’t marry. The entire reason we are married is for the sake of that enormous piece of land and house in Napa Valley he’s barely set foot on since I arrived there.
And, you should remember that, Daisy. Mad Max might be a piece of silicone with batteries but he’s no heartbreaker. I suspect the same might not prove true of my husband.
I take a hasty step back and he does the same. The raw need in his expression from a moment ago is already a memory. There’s a shuttered, controlled look like his face has been carved from stone.
“Shall we show my second cousin what a happily married couple we are?” he drawls, shoving his erection downward and striding toward his desk where he instructs Hadley to show the man in.
But, before we have company, he flashes one final heated glance my way that turns my insides to lava. “We’ll discuss Max’s failures again at some future time, Goldilocks.”