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“I promise, it won’t be long. But we’re unable to proceed with the construction work without your approval,” Caleb said, his face taking on a sad expression.
“Let’s get this over with,” Anton said with an aggravated sigh. “Let’s go back to our booth.”
“Wait.” I pulled on his hand as he started towards our table. “I’ll go to the ladies’ room while you two discuss business.”
He nodded and released my hand. I watched him walk back to the table, his gait unusually stiff. I couldn’t help but wonder about the cause; annoyance or too hard a shaft? The latter pleased me more. It was only fair considering my trip to the bathroom was to wipe off some of the mess between my thighs. Soaking wet and no undies to dam my arousal, I didn’t trust myself to sit down without leaving a trace behind.
Weaving my way through the tables, I entered the bathroom.
Chapter 11
Grace
The gleaming dark marble floor of Risqué’s bathroom and the creamy walls made the room enormous. It was divided into two sections; the powder room in front and the stalls in the back. One long sink with motion-sensor faucets occupied the length of the powder room’s left wall. Above each faucet, wooden frame mirrors hung on the wall. On the opposite wall, fancy stools with a dark brown and gold brocade cushion rested in front of a long counter. Various high-end beauty products were neatly organized on top, reflected by the ceiling-high mirror that covered the entire wall.
The stalls lined the wall of a circular room with a circular pouf, large enough to seat ten people, in the center. It was covered in the same brocade as the stools. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the bathroom, so I entered the first spacious stall on the left. Seconds later, I heard clip-clopping heels walk into the room. I made quick use of the facilities, chuckling at how soaked my inner thighs were. Walking out of the stall, the most unpleasant surprise awaited me in the form of Sheila.
She sat cross-legged on the pouf, pretending to clean non-existent dirt beneath her red painted nails. The holographic marker above my stall no doubt informed her of my location when it switched to ‘occupied.’ I nodded politely and walked past her to wash my hands. If Sheila wanted a cat fight, she would initiate it. I wasn’t playing her game.
Sure enough, her footsteps echoed behind me. She sat on one of the fancy stools. I glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes dressed me down, the expression on her face calculating.
“That was quite the show you two put on just now,” Sheila said, crossing her shapely legs.
“A show?” I asked, placing my hand beneath the motion-sensor soap dispenser.
“Clinging to each other like you were drowning and sucking each other’s faces off.”
I snorted. “It’s called dancing and kissing, Sheila. Surely you’ve seen that before.”
“No need to get cute with me,” she said, her tone hardening.
“Then don’t ask for it.” I rinsed my hands. “You didn’t stalk me here to make small talk. What do you want?”
“I underestimated you.” Sheila rose from her seat. “People say you’re sweet but a ditz. Yet, I saw you playing the game.”
She approached me, hips swaying to her feline stride. The woodsy scent of her perfume tickled my nostrils. I expected her to wear a spicy perfume but the fragrance was refined and suited her. She leaned her hip against the sink, invading my space. I kept a careful eye on her while waving my hands in front of the air dryer. While effective, it was mostly silent and didn’t impede our ability to talk… unfortunately.
“Don’t get too comfortable. You’re a beautiful girl,” Sheila said, grabbing a strand of my long hair and gently letting it flow through her fingers. I recoiled but didn’t pull away from her touch. “You’ve done a great job keeping his baser instincts sated this long. However, you don’t have the class or mental acumen to satisfy anything else.”
I flinched. Of course, the bitch would hit where it hurt. Anton was smart, there was no question about that. He was right about my lack of education. I didn’t pursue studies after running from the orphanage a few weeks shy of my thirteenth birthday. He also made it clear he didn’t like my trashy clothes or behavior.
Sheila smirked, knowing she had scored a hit. “Since I, too, can be a nice girl, consider this your advance warning that Anton is going to be mine. I am far more suitable for him than you and my performances won’t embarrass him, unlike yours.”
Taking a deep breath in an attempt to control my anger, I faced her. “Any well-trained monkey can perform with distinction for its audience,” I said, quoting something Romero taught me. “But real class starts by not throwing yourself at the feet of the man who already declined your shameless offer at Sade.”
Sheila gasped.
“It’s also not stalking the woman of the man you covet all the way to the bathroom in a desperate attempt to undermine her confidence.”
“Now you listen to me,” she hissed, straightening.
“No,youlisten to me,” I snarled getting up in her face. “I’m not playing your stupid games. You can’t intimidate or scare me. Your skinny ass was around here long before I arrived. Anton never came sniffing after it. That should tell you something.”
“It tells me I’m not some cheap whore he could buy!”
Although I did sell myself to Anton, I wasn’t a whore – not that I cared what Sheila thought. But I couldn’t resist knocking her down a notch.
I laughed. “Cheap whore, really? Has anyone ever happily paid over twelve million credits just to have you? I doubt you’d even get twelve hundred.”
