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KATE: Sounds good. How are you doing, Doctor Delish? I heard one of your letters being read over the airwaves.
DRAKE: What? Don't tell me they're going to resurrect those old letters again...
KATE: Yes. One of your letters to your new submissives. Someone must have sent a copy to the station and they had real fun reading it on air. You should have heard the banter between the news reporters. They really liked your prose. There was a great deal of snickering and giggling.
DRAKE: I'm sure they had fun. UGH. What else will come out? I hope someone else doesn't leak any real video. This fake video is pretty bad. But Lara wants to leak a real pic of me naked from the waist up in my swim trunks to prove that fat dude with the hair isn't me.
I smiled at that, thinking that now, not only would the women of Manhattan get to read Drake's very sexual and sensual and Dominant letters to his submissives, they'd get to see his very delicious body, next to naked in his swim trunks.
KATE: I don't know if I want to share your glorious body with the world. It's mine. All mine. You promised me that you were mine -- every inch I seem to recall you telling me. I want to hold your every inch to that promise.
DRAKE: I will gladly let you hold my every inch, anytime, Ms. Bennet. How about tonight?
I laughed at that, imagining him holding it against me.
KATE: Tonight sounds divine. Make sure you don't let Sophie sleep too long or else she won't be sleepy at her usual bedtime.
DRAKE: I'll make sure she wakes up on time. How's the studio? Feel like old times? Don't tell me that flaky guy is there -- what was his name? Jules with the long hair?
KATE: Yes, Jules is still here. He provides comic relief for the place. Seriously, Drake, Jules is really sweet in a very laid back SOCAL way. He really belongs in California.
DRAKE: Tell him to stay away from you or there'll be swords at dawn between us.
KATE: LOL if you knew Jules, you'd never worry about me. He has all these artsy-type skater girls hanging around his studio. I'm probably an old woman to him. In fact, I suspect he doesn't even see me as a woman. He actually called me Dude.
DRAKE: Guys today call everyone Dude, Kate. There is no way Jules doesn't think of you as a woman. That would never be possible. You're a delicious MILF.
KATE: OMG don't say that!
DRAKE: Seriously delicious MILF. More like MIIF.
KATE: ??
DRAKE: Mother I Intend to Fuck
KATE: DRAKE MORGAN!
I laughed as I re-read his texts, glad that he seemed to be in a good mood, all things considered.
KATE: I better get back to work. See you at five-ish.
DRAKE: Love you.
KATE: Love you back even harder.
DRAKE: Believe me, when it comes to loving you back, I'm harder. ;)
KATE: :) I hope so.
I turned off my cell and slipped it back into my bag, smiling to myself as I did. I loved Drake so much, I felt like I could face anything as long as he was there, waiting for me to get home, sleeping in my bed, eating meals with me, making love to me, being the father to my child.
I went back to my current painting and examined it, then set to work trying to accomplish what I hoped with the piece. When the news came on, I was about to change the station again but of course the report included a piece on the Richardson murder trial and despite my earlier plan to avoid the news, I decided to listen. More evidence had been leaked -- most likely by the defense trying to paint a picture of Lisa as a poor abused child, exploited by two adult men. It included an excerpt from Lisa's school counsellor when she was a teenager, and how she was particularly vulnerable to manipulation by father figures because of her experience of childhood sexual abuse.
It made me almost physically ill to think about Lisa being abused as a child. I couldn't imagine it, as pampered and protected as I had been growing up. I didn't even know about sex until I was ten when a babysitter talked about the dogs in the backyard mating. I thought they were playing piggy-back, but she said they were making babies. It was then I got the whole talk about the birds and the bees, not really believing it at first.
I turned down the sound, not wanting to get too upset about the case, distracting me from my art. Soon, I forgot about the news story about Lisa and was back into it. An hour passed, and then my cell calendar alert chimed, letting me know that it was time to leave. I
was deep into the painting and really felt like staying for another hour, but I wanted to make sure I was home on time. I put away my canvas, cleaned up my brushes and paints, and closed the door behind me, glad that I was lucky to have the studio space to come to when I wanted.
