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Mr. H:Actually don’t, not sure how he’ll feel knowing I bought you such an extravagant gift
CALI:Your secret is safe with me. Thank you again, I love them.
Mr. H:Anything for you, Calliope. Anything!
Sitting here, I stare down at my feet and suddenly I’m accosted with a picture of me on my back, my Louboutin-clad feet digging into the muscular ass of Mr. H as he fucks me senseless. Lifting my hand, I squeeze my breast and rock forward, applying pressure to my throbbing clit, but my dirty daydream is interrupted by another knock at my door, and I know from the knock, it’s Dad and Mom.
My sexy daydream quickly dissipates when I stand up. Letting out a sexually frustrated sigh, I shake off the thoughts and turn toward my bedroom door but my impatient dad knocks again. Even though I’m in my twenties, he still does our ‘secret knock’ each and every time he visits and truth be told, my inner ten-year-old loves it.
“Coming,” I sing out.
Skipping out of my room, I race to the front door, swing it open, and smile at my parents. “Mom. Dad,” I offer in greeting. Opening my arms, Mom envelops me. “Happy graduation day, Cali.”
“Thanks, Mom.” She grips my cheeks and stares at me, her eyes full of tears but a smile graces her face. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I voice again, and wipe at my eyes and sniffle. Before the moment can get more intense, Dad shoves—literally—Mom out of the way and wraps me in a bear hug.
“Happy graduation day, Princess.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I mumble into his chest.
Pulling apart, we walk into my apartment and Mom sees the shoebox on the sofa. “Did you get new shoes?” Nodding, my smile widens and I thrust my foot forward, spinning it from side to side. “Louboutin?” I nod, still grinning over my new shoes. “Calliope,” Mom admonishes. I notice she uses my full name and I feel like I’m nine years old again, getting into trouble for using all of her Tom Ford limited-edition lipstick to paint Cari’s face and turn her into a clown. “That’s a lot of money to spend on shoes.”
“It was a gift,” I tell her.
“A gift from who?”
“A friend,” I nonchalantly tell her, and I try to leave it at that but she presses me for more information.
“A boyfriend maybe?”
I wish, I think, but I keep that thought to myself. “No, just a friend.”
I can tell from the look on her face she wants to know more but, thankfully, Dad interrupts. “We need to get going, otherwise we’re going to be late and I refuse to miss seeing my princess walk across that stage. It’s only going to happen once in my life.”
“What about Cari? When she finishes design school, she’ll have a graduation ceremony.”
“Do they do that for design school?”
“Garrick,” Mom admonishes him, slapping his arm. “Of course Cari will have a ceremony, I swear you don’t think before you speak sometimes. Now, let’s go.”
Stepping between my parents, I offer them an elbow each and they loop their arms through mine. The three of us make our way down to Dad’s rental and we head to campus for the graduation ceremony.
Later that evening, I’m lying in bed with my legs up on the wall above my bed, crossed at the ankle with my shoes still on my feet. Even after being squished for coming up on eight hours now, my feet don’t feel sore at all. I don’t think I will ever remove them. I’m still in shock Mr. H bought these for me, he really is amazing.
As I stare at my shoe-clad feet, I wonder if maybe he feels what I feel too. Or am I reading too much into this gift?
ChapterSeven
… three months later
“Just sign the fucking papers, Danica,” I growl across the boardroom table in Alex’s office at my ex-wife, well I hope, my soon-to-be ex-wife. This is my, I’ve lost count of the number of trips to the Big Apple trying to finalize my divorce from Bitchifer. She’s blocked, stalled, and refused to sign every time.
“No,” she sneers. “I want half the hotel.”
“I fuc—”
Alex interrupts, “What my client means, is that the offer before you is final and more than fair. Ms. Heard has not had anything to do with the hotel,” she pauses and then adds, “ever. And during the course of their marriage, Ms. Heard didn’t contribute anything financially to the well-being of the three children they share, and since she up and left four years ago, she hasn’t had any contact with her children or again, contributed to their lives. I’m more than happy to take this before a judge—”
