Chapter 18
“Got another batch coming through, Nala!”
Before she could cry uncle, a large box appeared on the rolling tray running through Nala’s station. She still hadn’t finished sorting through the current batch of T-shirts and jeans donated earlier that day. Now she had…
She gave a cursory glance at the contents. Lingerie?
Oh, hell no! How did this make its way back to her? The company had a strict no-lingerie policy. A boutique had gone out of business, and these were the items they couldn’t sell during their liquidation sale. So, brand new and never worn, but I still can’t process these.
Just another day at Nala’s job. She was getting beyond fed up with it, but what was a girl to do when her current thousands of dollars came from the equivalent of a sugar mama?
She laughed into the box of lingerie. Varen! A sugar mama! Would she even know what to do with a sugar baby? “Oh, baby, let me buy you some pizza and deny you my pussy.” If Nala didn’t stop hollering in laughter, someone would come back to see what looked like her huffing a box of lacy panties.
Nala set the box off to the side so she could finish processing the T-shirts and jeans.
For once, the donator didn’t completely fuck up the rules and managed to deposit a sizable amount of usable clothes.
No crazy stains, no terrible tears, and the fading was what one expected from seriously used.
That was great for the company, but annoying as hell for Nala’s remaining time.
There were only fifteen minutes left on her shift by the time she returned to the box of lingerie.
What do I even do with these? Normally, donated undies and the like had to go to the incinerator.
These weren’t technically used. Banged around a bit in boxes and sitting on shelves for who knew how long, but a simple wash would make them usable.
Nala held up a pair of black lacy undies, amazed that a simple string was supposed to keep them on a woman’s hips.
Oh, but they’re adjustable that way. They could be tied as tightly or loosely as she wanted.
That would be great for my hips. Depending on the hormones of the month, Nala could have her version of thick, curvy hips, or stick-like bones protruding.
Finding granny panties that stayed on or didn’t strangle her occasionally was a trial.
Now she supposed she had to dress her undies up too. If not for The Aviary performances, then for Varen, her stupid sugar mama.
Good job, thinking about her yet again. It had been three days since they last had sex, and Nala was already turning into a sex-starved nut.
She imagined herself splayed out across a fainting couch, fanning her face as she claimed to have “a bit of the hysterics,” her hand constantly moving toward her thighs and demanding a woman come take care of her.
“Oh, Miss Lake! You’re what the doctor ordered to cure my hysterics!”
Whoops. Time to laugh in the underwear again.
In the end, Nala stuffed about six pairs of underwear, a bra that she could have processed but decided not to, and a couple of sheer negligees into her tote bag before leaving work.
The rest of the goods were left in the box with a note for her supervisor – minus any mention of things Nala may or may not have lifted.
She got home in time for the mailman to stop by. Trailing right behind him was a private courier, who detoured around the mailbox and the path leading up to the craftsman house. He walked right up to Nala, who carried a new collection of undies in her tote bag.
“Nala Nazarov?”
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, clutching her bag to her shoulder. “Yeah. Need me to sign for something?”
“No need. Here.” The man handed her a letter before jogging down the sidewalk as if someone were after him.
Nala glanced at the letter. It was addressed to her, but there was no return notice. Is that legal? She took her things inside the house, passed by Patrick smoking a bowl in the living room, and sequestered herself in the bathroom.
The bright lights came on. The door locked.
Nala leaned against the counter and tore open the envelope, fully expecting to see some suspicious white powder come pouring out.
Instead, she got a thin piece of paper with tiny typeface scattered upon it.
There was no signature, no name to go with the strange words.
We know who you are.
We know why you are after the man.
We will keep your identity secret from him.
Because we are on your side.
You have friends.
Nala folded up the paper and stuffed it in her front uniform pocket. Although slightly shaken, she forced herself to remain straight-faced and collected as she picked up her tote bag and went back outside. No need to settle into her closet right now.
She walked to the end of the street and took a bus into downtown. As she sat in one of the hard seats, she thought about what she would say. “I told you I had a bad feeling.” “Is this a joke?” “So, uh, sex?”
The bus dropped her off by Pioneer Square in the heart of Downtown, making her trek a few blocks to Varen’s office building.
She told Nala to come by there if she had an emergency.
Well, this seemed like an emergency. Not that Nala felt like she was in immediate danger…
but this was something Varen needed to know about before anything else happened.
Unfortunately, it was Andrew who greeted her at the front desk of Lake Technological Solutions. Unfortunately, because his mouth turned at the sight of her, as if hordes of lice were about to start jumping out of her hair and all over his department store suit.
“Hello,” he said, trying so damned hard to not sneer. I know I’m here in my uniform again. Nala picked something off her dull blue shirt and straightened her back. “If you’re looking for Ms. Lake, she’s currently in a meeting.”
Nala checked her watch. No way she’s having a meeting a half hour before she’s supposed to go home. “You might tell her I have something she needs to see.”
Andrew cocked a disbelieving eyebrow.
“No, really, she likes me. Go watch. She’ll drop everything she’s doing for little ol’ me.”
This was kinda fun.
Andrew cleared his throat, standing stiffly from his desk as he smoothed down the front of his suit. His sandy blond hair was practically plastered to his scalp from too much product. “I will check in with her. You might want to have a seat, though.”
“Not necessary. She’ll see me within five minutes.”
What a cute scowl!
That’s right. Go along, puppy. Your boss is my sugar mommy and is taking down one of the biggest billionaires in the area with me! She’ll see me even if she’s sitting on her private toilet! God, she hoped not, honestly.
Andrew disappeared into Varen’s annex, coming back less than a minute later with red on his face. “She said she’ll see you now,” he mumbled. “So you know, she was working on a very important proposal.”
“Oh, I’m sure she was.” Nala twiddled her fingers as she made a grand show of sauntering into Varen’s office as if she had the run of the place.
Briefly – very briefly – she imagined being Mrs. Lake and pissing all over Andrew’s dreams of showing her up.
I’d ask Varen if he could be transferred to my services.
I’d make sure he got paid more to ensure he followed through!
Varen got up from her desk the moment Nala stepped in and shut the door behind her.
Oh, hi. The three sides of Varen Lake – the scruffy PNW hoodie gal, the decked-out Aviary lady in a suit, and this plain businesswoman – all had different effects on poor Nala.
She went from wanting to be her friend, to wanting to be dominated by her, to…
well, whatever she felt right now, it was influenced by that dark blue button-down and those loose black trousers.
Her ponytail was gone. Instead, Varen wore her hair up on her head in a neat bun.
“What is it?” Varen asked, tidying up papers and tablets on her desk. “I’m guessing you wouldn’t come all the way here if it wasn’t serious.”
Nala pulled the note from her pocket. “I got home from work, and this was delivered to me with impeccable timing. Like the deliveryman knew when I would be home.”
Varen read it over as Nala sat on a couch along the wall.
Her heavy tote bag sighed into the seat beside her.
She watched for Varen’s reaction, but all she did was fold the note back up and deposit it into one of her desk drawers.
I should’ve made a copy. Wasn’t like things belonged to her anymore once she handed them over to Varen.
“So? What do you think it means?”
Varen turned toward her but remained against her desk. “I think it means exactly what it says. Someone knows who we are and what we’re about.”
“They say they’re our friend.”
“We’ll see about that soon enough.” Varen’s poignant visage did not instill any confidence in Nala.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Who do you think it is? What do you think they want? They came to me, Varen. Did you get the same note?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Geez! Okay, so go ahead and stand there, acting like it’s not a big deal. Some weirdo delivered me a message from someone who claims to know who I am. Not a big deal. Right.”
“Nala,” Varen said, too calm for the situation.
She pushed herself away from her desk and joined Nala on the couch, her body language in no way inviting.
Nala’s tote bag remained between them. “Don’t think I don’t care or won’t look into it, but I’m not sure what to tell you. This person says they’re an ally, but they said it in such a threatening way. They want us to remain cautious. They didn’t tell us anything about themselves,
so they have an identity to hide. They went to you because… well, I don’t know that off the top of my head right now.”
“Because I’m cute, duh.”
She said it flippantly, but Varen snorted, nonetheless. “Maybe.” Her face contoured into a serious look again. She’s good looking when she smiles… but there’s something about Ms. Emo Lake that does me in.
“Well, it freaks me out. If they could find out who I am that easily, then so can Ravenwood. It’s only a matter of time before he finds out I’m Tasha’s sister. He must already know your history.”