I gripped my purse so tightly my knuckles were turning white, feeling queasy about the credit card inside. How much did I dare put on there? It was all just too weird. I felt uncomfortable just thinking about spending someone else's money on something so frivolous as clothing.
I forced myself to walk, putting one foot in front of the other until I was at the door of the boutique. But before I could touch the door, it swung open, and a beautiful older woman handed me a glass of champagne.
"You must be Miss Willcox," she said, beaming at me. Her icy blonde hair was swept into a classic up-do; her clothing impeccable and of the finest quality.
"My girls and I are going to take excellent care of you today. If you'll follow me, Mr. Drake has laid some items out for you to choose from."
I sipped the champagne, letting the cool bubbles play on my tongue. Of course he has.
I smiled. He's taken care of everything. I should have suspected as much.
Four hours later, the Rolls Royce pulled up in front of the Drake mansion, coming to a stop in front of the huge wooden doors. I fussed with the strap on my new sky-high black heels, wrapped around my freshly pedicured feet. I felt ridiculous in this dress, but it was my favorite out of all the choices laid out by Mr. Control Freak himself. All of them were exquisitely made, not to mention short and revealing, but something about this one had mesmerized me as soon as I held it up to the light.
Metallic silk draped low in the front, hugging my h*ps enough to flatter, and dropping dangerously low in back, baring enough skin to make me blush. I'd never been one for slinky dresses or showing off my body. Added together with the $500 heels and I felt completely out of sorts, like a pig in lipstick.
Hopefully I didn't look too ridiculous.
Mr. Drake's butler held the door for me as I entered, and I smiled shyly at him.
"You look lovely, if I may say so, Miss Willcox."
My cheeks heated, and I knew I was blushing. "Thank you, Mr. Daniels."
He seemed sincere, which made me feel braver, but I still had my boss to face. Would I impress, and would it be enough to make up for my earlier mistrust?
"Please follow me," he said, and escorted me through the winding halls and up the stairs, to the lavish guest suite I'd used before.
On the bed was a box, gift wrapped in silver paper. Before I could ask any questions, Mr. Daniels bowed himself out, shutting the door behind him. I sat on the bed and carefully opened the paper, folding it and setting it aside. I always ripped through wrapping paper on Christmas and birthdays, but here, in Mr. Drake's home, it seemed wrong, somehow. Sloppy.
I lifted the lid of the wooden box inside and gasped. There was the vibrating egg again, and, of course, a note accompanying it. When was I going to see the man behind the curtain?
Please do me the honor of being my date at the party I'm throwing this evening. There will be investors coming, and I know having you on my arm will be my lucky charm.
///
However, you still need to be punished for doubting me. Put this in before you join me in the foyer.
And Isabeau? I expect you on your best behavior tonight. No squirming allowed.
I ran my hands over my temples. He could not be serious! He wanted me to wear this sex toy while he paraded me in front of investors and party guests. His business career could be on the line on a night like tonight, and he wanted to play games …
But I had to admit, the thought of wearing this in front of a room full of strangers made my body tingle and my pulse race. It would be a secret only the two of us knew about, and if I judged him right, he'd have the control to flip the switch and turn it on whenever he pleased, controlling my body beneath everyone's noses, and no one the wiser.
Unless I screwed up and let my feelings show.
I bit my lip, fear and excitement warring within me. I'd show him just how cool I could be. I wouldn't disappoint him.
I took a deep breath at the top of the winding main staircase, steeling myself.
You can do this, Isabeau. Just breathe.
I held onto the handrail and moved down the steps carefully, my core squeezing around the egg beneath my new lace panties. I still couldn't believe I was doing this, but the thought of Mr. Drake somewhere below, waiting to turn me on was almost too much to bear. I felt like I was on fire for him, and I hadn't even seen him yet.
I turned the corner, and the foyer opened up beneath me. Guests in expensive suits and glamorous dresses mingled below, diamonds catching the light on necks and wrists everywhere I looked.
I wanted to stop walking. I wanted to turn around and retreat to the safety of my room, or maybe lock myself in the bathroom and climb out the window. I felt like such an imposter wearing these clothes, tresspassing on this life … Would they be able to tell? Would just one look give me away?