Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mindy
Finally.
Home sweet home.
I shut the door behind me and kick off my shoes. I’m still feeling drained from the crazy showdown with Alexis and I know it’s not going away any time soon. After leaving the hospital, I cried in the car for about twenty minutes straight. I’m probably going to do some more crying later. Emotionally exhausted is an understatement for how I'm feeling right now.
As soon as I make my way into the living room, I see Betty with a look of deep concern on her face. She takes one glance at me and frowns, her forehead scrunching up.
"What the heck happened, Mindy?" she asks. "You look like you saw a ghost."
I shake my head, trying to avoid reliving the drama with my sister. "Just the usual story with Alexis… nothing you haven’t heard before." I let out a sigh. "But at least Mom is doing better. Her new treatment seems to be working."
"Thank goodness!" Betty smiles. "Looks like it was a good idea to take that New York High gig, after all, huh?"
I give a silent nod. She has no idea that the latest treatments are paid for by Maron and not NYC High. It’s probably best to keep it that way.
I walk into the living room and sink into the couch, the weight of the day dragging me down between the cushions. Family drama always makes me feel like crap and leaves me totally exhausted. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to center myself.
"Hey," Betty says softly, sitting down next to me. "I know you’ve had some rough days recently. How about we take your mind off it for a while?" She nudges me gently, a mischievous glint returning into her eyes. "There's something here that will cheer you up."
I open my eyes, curiosity piquing despite my fatigue. "What do you mean?"
Betty grins. "You got another package earlier," she exclaims, pointing to the coffee table. I furrow my brow as my eyes wander to the big, fancy-looking box sitting there.
"What is it?" I ask, pushing myself up from the couch.
Betty flashes a smile, "I don’t know, but it's for you. Looks fancy as hell."
I walk over to the package to take a closer look. It's all dressed up in black paper with a shiny silver bow. I touch its smooth surface, feeling a mix of thrill and butterflies in my stomach.
It must be another gift from Maron.
"Come on girl, open it already!" Betty eagerly nudges me.
I glance at my friend as I start untying the ribbon. The paper unravels and a slick black box is revealed underneath. I remove the lid and a shriek escapes my lips. I stare at the contents in astonishment.
Holy crap.
I have to rub my eyes to make sure I’m actually seeing what I’m seeing. The black box is filled with an arsenal of toys that look like they cost a fortune. That’s right, ‘ that kind of toys’ . There's a vibrator, fancy silk ties and masks, and even this shiny metal thing that makes my cheeks run red.
Before I know it, Betty stands behind me, peering into the box. "Holy shit, girl!" She exclaims and her face brightens up. She reaches in and pulls out a dildo. She carefully inspects it. "That is one big, shiny dildo. Do you think it’s going to fit?"
My cheeks flush. "Jesus, Bets. Seriously?"
"I'm sooo damn jealous, Mindy!” She laughs, ignoring my embarrassment. “Why can't I ever get something like this?"
I still can’t believe what I’m looking at.
It is hard to believe that this was all sent to me.
I shake my head. "I dunno, Bets. Maybe you're just too picky?" I wink at her.
Betty snorts, making a dramatic movement with the dildo in her hand. "Picky? I'd settle for a guy who can string two sentences together without mentioning his ex or his mom. Is that too much to ask?"
I burst out laughing and put my hands up. "Alright, fair point."
Betty looks at the object in her hand and runs her eyes up and down its length, carefully inspecting it. "This came from Maron, right?"
"Can you think of anyone else?"
"I knew it," Betty says, shooting me a look. "He was away from the office all day yesterday, and that doesn’t happen very often lately. The only logical explanation is that he spent the entire day on his computer, in a frantic search for the perfect dildo."
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, like he’s got nothing better to do."
"No, seriously. I can totally imagine his face contorting as he browses through adult websites," Betty continues dramatically, "trying to find the right fit for your vajayjay. Vibrant violet? Nah, let's make it royal blue. Size XL? Oh no, let's go for triple XL!"
We both burst into laughter. "Jesus, girl, stop it!"
"Check your messages," Betty reads out the content of a small, elegant envelope she just fished out of the box. "This guy really knows how to build suspense," she remarks.
"My messages? On my phone?"
“That’s what it says,” Betty replies, urging me to take a look.
I fish my phone out of my pocket and tap the notification to pull up the incoming message.
Mindy,
Tonight marks our first official public appearance together. Since it's also my birthday, I'm hosting a small private party at my house. Please arrive by 8 p.m.
For security purposes, a taxi will pick you up from New York High. Simply drive there and leave your car in the parking lot; it has already been paid for.
Please wear one of the dresses I sent to you with the previous delivery. I'd like to introduce you to some of my associates at the party. And don't forget to bring a toy of your choice. ;)
See you tonight, MK
Betty leans over my shoulder, her eyes widening as she takes in the contents of the package again. "Damn, girl. Looks like your sugar daddy is making some serious moves. Official public appearance? What does he mean by that?"
I feel my face heat up at her question. I should be more careful. I can’t let her sniff out that Maron and I have an arrangement. "Don’t sugar daddy him, Bets." I giggle, trying to stir the conversation in another direction. “This is different.”
Betty just raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "Uh-huh. That explains why he pillaged a small adult store."
I can't help but laugh. "Okay, okay. I get your point, but it's a little more complicated than that."
"So, you’re going to the party?" Betty asks. "I know I'm being nosy, but you have to understand, this is just too damn exciting!"
I nod. "Looks like it."
"To Maron Korolev's house? That's if he lives in a regular house, not in some freaking extravagant mansion floating on water or something."
I keep quiet.
“Oh, come on, Min, enough with the secrecy already!” Betty nudges and glances at the clock on the wall. "It’s quarter past six! We better start dolling you up, if you want to make it by eight!"
Less than an hour later, I stand beside my car with an almost flawless makeup, and the red designer dress hugging me like a second skin. Betty and I attended to every detail meticulously, making me look as classy as I can be. The scent of my perfume, a heady blend of sensuality and mystery, lingers in the air around me. I must say, I’m pleased with the results.
I do a final once-over before jumping in my car. Dress looks great, makeup on point. And one of the trusty dildos is tucked away in my bag. For later.
It's going to be a good night, Mindy.
I open the door and sink into the driver's seat, reaching for the key to start the ignition. But then, I remember something. A feeling of unease comes over me, making me pause.
The folder.
I quickly glance at the glove compartment. For a moment, I'm overcome with fear that something is wrong. Alexis was the last one to use my car. Having to be suspicious of my own sister hurts, but I can't shake it off.
What if she opened the folder while she had the car?
What if she took it??
With trembling hands, I lean over and open the glove compartment. To my relief, the folder is there, just as I left it. Everything looks exactly how it should be.
I exhale as I pull the folder out. With slightly shaky fingers, I open it, my eyes scanning the contents. It appears to be in perfect order.The pages are neatly arranged and my signature is at the bottom.
Thank God.
I fold up the contract, the paper crinkling under my fingers. I tuck it into my bag, right next to the dildo.The realization almost makes me laugh.
It’s ridiculous to think about the contents of my purse. A strange contract with a possibly dangerous man, right next to a luxury dildo. It is a strange, but accurate representation of where my life is right now.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I turn the key in the ignition and I begin my drive to New York High.