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I promise you, Isaac’s a good guy.
Wait. Is HE the reason you left?
Eventually, Daisy stopped messaging. Peach hadn’t said a word to her friends about Isaac’s (literal) proposal, of course. They just didn’t feel like part of her inner circle anymore. Too wrapped up in each other. Plus, it felt kinda good to keep a secret from them. They seemed to have so many secrets from her now. Going off on their private trips without her. Pretty soon, they’d have shut her out entirely. So, in a way, this was… payback?
“What did you say you’re doing on Star Island again?” the cab driver said, casting her yet another glance in his rearview mirror. He seemed totally confused about how someone who looked like Peach could be headed to the most exclusive spot in all of Miami.
Peach wasn’t offended by his confusion. She knew how she looked. Wearing her cartoonish kids’ clothes, which happened to have Nutella smeared all over them from this morning’s breakfast. Her blond hair tied in a messy bun. No make-up. A scruffy little dog for her travel companion.
Peach was out of place. Major time. But with ten million dollars coming her way… did it really matter?
“I’m meeting my future husband,” she told the cab driver, trying to hide a smile.
“Sure you are,” replied the driver. “Just remember the island has tight security there. Name’s gotta be on the list to get in. Can’t have any Tom, Dick, or Sally waltzing in and knocking on Angelina Jolie’s door.”
Peach gasped. “Angeline Jolie lives on the island?”
The driver shrugged. “Nobody knows who lives on the island. That’s the whole point. It’s extremely exclusive. And private.” He cast her another look, an expression of warning this time.
“Don’t you worry about that,” said Peach. “My fiancée will be ecstatic to see me.”
The driver grunted.
Peach’s tummy was doing backflips. A celebrity island! She couldn’t help getting out her phone and googling who lived there. According to the internet… Gloria Estefan, Jennifer Lopez, some pharmaceutical billionaire named Philip Frost… No mention of Isaac, but presumably the Daddies Inc guys were careful about putting their names out to the general public. Not everyone appreciated the age play community, so you had to stay guarded.
And what better place to do that than on an exclusive Miami island?
As the cab began driving across the bridge that led to the island, Peach tried to control her excitement. For one thing, her bladder was pretty full and she didn’t want to pee in her panties. For another, she had to remind herself why she was doing this. It wasn’t because she wanted to hang out with A-list celebrities or buy herself endless fancy necklaces and Build-A-Bear toys.
No. She was doing this because she wanted to haveimpact.She had always been Peach, the childish overweight girl who nobody took seriously. The overly generous girl who people took advantage of because she was too scared to stand up for herself.
Not anymore. Peach was about to get rich with a capital “R” and she was going to use that moneyverywisely. And if she bought herself the occasional stuffie or necklace for a bit of self-care, that hardly made her a bad person, did it?
They pulled up to some security gates, and the cab driver rolled down Peach’s window.
“Name?” asked the guard. He was wearing dark glasses and looked like someone you didn’t mess with.
“Um, Peach Trimble, sir,” said Peach quietly.
The guard looked at her a moment.
“Ms. Trimble,” he said sternly.
Peach could feel the cab driver’s eyes boring into her.
“Welcome to Star Island,” said the guard.
Peach felt like she could breathe again, and the security gates opened.
The driver tried to hide his bemusement as he drove them across the length of the island. They passed mansion after mansion, each one more stunning than the next. Extravagant gates leading to the most stunning courtyards and pillared entrances.
Finally, they reached Isaac’s compound, and as soon as the cab approached, the gates opened. Very cool.
The cab took them all the way up to the door and Peach nodded graciously at the driver.
He looked at her, as if weighing something up, then said: “Two hundred dollars.”
“Two hundred? For a cab ride?” Peach said, aghast.
