What scared me the most was that I almost couldn’t picture him any longer. I knew what he looked like, but perhaps I had thought of him too much, or perhaps not enough. Every time I brought him to mind, the distinctiveness of his features seemed to fade farther and farther into the distance.
All I could feel were his fingers, gliding like feathers down my arms, the burn of his kisses across my skin, the feel of him inside of me. I recalled what it was like to be so completely filled, the walls of my sex, convulsing around his cock. I throbbed with arousal at the recollection of how my sex had sheathed him like a second skin.
I clenched my thighs at the memory. My underwear was already drenched, my breathing faster, and my stomach tight with the need to fuck him just one more time. To drive my hips up and down his impossibly thick cock, to have his arms on my waist, and my gaze lost in his lust-filled hazel ones.
Smash!
Someone blew their horn on the street outside and I jumped, my heart nearly popping out of my chest. It was followed by more deafening crashes, and I looked to see the tray of glasses that I had been standing next to was on the floor in what seemed like a thousand pieces. I lifted my head then to the other waitress, Melanie’s confused gaze.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why did you jump like that?”
Flustered, I said the only thing I could, “I’m sorry. I’ll pay for it all.”
She frowned. “No need. That’s fifty-quid’s worth of glasses there. Go get the broom and dustpan and clean it up quickly before the boss sees it,” she said, walking away towards the kitchen
If I continued like this I was going to lose it. Last night had to remain the only thing that it could ever be with Brent. A distant memory that had no business recurring in an endless loop inside my head.
“Freya, fucking get it together,” I muttered under my breath as I went to get the broom and dustpan.
* * *
“I was supposed to be heading home but I ended up taking the bus to your house instead,” I said into the phone to Maddie. Somehow, her little apartment had become our hideout.
“Are you on your way here now?” she asked.
“Nah, I jumped out at the next stop. I’m on my way home. Haven’t seen Mom since yesterday morning. Just a second.” I pulled the phone away from me ear. After attaching my ear piece, I slipped the phone into my pocket and headed over to a recently vacated seat on the bus. In the background, I could hear Ella asking who it was.
“I’m here too.” Ella’s voice screamed from the distance, when Maddie told her it was me.
“Why did you take it off speaker?” Ella complained. “Put it back on.”
Maddie snapped. “It’s not on speaker!”
“Then why can’t I hear her?” Ella whined.
“Because she’s not freaking saying anything.”
“Hi, Ella,” I greeted.
“Why are you not at work? Don’t you have a shift tonight?”
“I got fired.”
She burst out laughing.
“I told him I needed another night off and he went off on me.”
“Life is funny,” she said. “If this had happened a night ago, you would have been devastated.”
“Perks of being a millionaire.”
“What an understatement.”
“Have you decided how you’re going to hide your overnight wealth from your mother?” Ella asked.
“I thought about it all day, and the best I can come up with is some sudden internship at a big shot company. Then I can appear flush without actually showing her how much I have.”
“No intern is paid enough to fund a mortgage and pay off their university fees. She’ll still be worried when there's no longer any need to be. Why don’t you just tell her the truth, plus she knows Lord Lucan ... perhaps she won't be too upset.”
“You must be joking,” I said. “My mom has her shallow ways but in this instance, I think she might actually kill me. It'll break her heart that I had to do it.”
Maddie sighed. “If only Brent Lucan wasn’t such a douche, he would have helped you out a bit. Is there no way you can reach him?”
I sighed. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. I couldn’t get him out of my mind all day.”
“In a bad way or ...”
“I don’t know, but I thought I would never care much for sex.”
“But ...”
“No, you don’t understand. That man has a hold on me. I do things I would never do when I am around him. I’m still shocked at who I was last night.”
“Uh, oh. Tell us more.”
“That’s enough detail for you,” I said primly.
“I don’t know,” Ella said. “If it were me, I would seek him out and fuck him until I got him out of my system. I would just turn up at his office.”
“And you think you would be let in?”
“Probably not, but maybe I should try it—”
“Shut that thought down, right now!” I shot back, my voice louder than I intended. It shocked me to know how much it hurt me to even think of him with beautiful sexy, Ella.
“Chill, babe. I was only joking.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just stressed and so confused. I don’t know what to do. I’m trying to picture his face ... but I can’t.”
“What does that even mean? You can’t remember what he looks like?”
“No, not that. I … oh … forget it. I think I need to get it all straight in my head. I’ll be better in a few days.”
“In situations like this the best thing to do is to rip the bandage off in one go. Force yourself to snap out of it!” she said.
“For once, I have to agree with Maddie,” Ella shouted in the background.
“Right. I’m at my stop. I’ll call you both later.”
“Bye,” they both shouted.
Freya
When I arrived home, my mother was waiting for me in our small living room, settled on the couch in front of the television. “You’re back early,” she said, and started to rise. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have made you something?”
“I’m fine, I ate at the restaurant.”
“Oh, you had a shift this evening. How come you’re back so early, then?”
“I was fired.”
Only after the words left my mouth did I realize how I sounded.
It took her a few more moments to process what I had just said. “They fired you? Why?”
“I’m a lousy waitress, Mom,” I replied as I headed into the kitchen and pulled the refrigerator open. I pulled out a can of Coke. “How's the store?”
“We’re doing great,” she thrilled. “We had a huge sale yesterday, and I’m pretty certain I’ll be able to handle the mortgage arrears. Sorry for making you worry the other day.”
I didn’t believe a word of her report.
She looked nervous. As she leaned over the couch to get a good view of me, her smile slipped and her eyes were shifty.
I took a sip of cold Coke and made my voice sound light and casual. “I am searching for internships for my third year. I will make sure to get a paid one so that I can help out a little more.”
She frowned at the piece of news. “An internship? Have you done interviews?”
“Not yet,” I responded and turned towards the sink so she couldn’t see my face. I couldn’t remember the last time I lied to her. It didn’t feel good, but I was doing it for her.
She went quiet for so long it made me think she knew I was lying. Then she spoke and her voice was trembling and I knew she had been too choked to speak. “I’ll get all of our problems sorted out,” she promised. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I trust you, Mom,” I said softly, and was pleased at the smile it gave her.
She shifted on the couch. “Oh, Freya, do you remember the charity fundraiser that’s usually held at Eaton every winter? I took you along to one a few years back.”
“I do,” I responded. “Terribly dull.”
“Oh,” she uttered
softly.
Then my suspicion was confirmed. “Are you going to attend it this year?” I asked.
“Yes, I think I will.”
“Oh, Mom, you can’t do that.”
“I was able to get myself an invite. I need to attend for the sake of the business. I want that crowd’s patronage, so I need to socialize with them and win some of them over.”
I was so taken aback. “Mom, that was your circle a year ago, but it’s not anymore. They will all be there, all those people who turned their backs on us, and they all remember.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I did nothing wrong.” She repositioned herself on the couch.
I left the kitchen and came over to her. “Most of the women that will be there you were acquainted with for years. Will you be okay, trying to get them to buy clothes from you?”
“I’m not asking for handouts, Freya, I’m promoting my business, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Don’t worry, I’ll be immaculately dressed and no one will look down on me. They're going to ask me where my outfit is from, and I'll use that to draw them in. I’ve been opened half a year now and not gone very far, so I’m going to do whatever it takes to move ahead, for the both of us. Making business acquaintances are what these events are truly for. And that’s what I’m going to do.”
“That usually applies to their husbands, Mom. They get introduced to Dukes and oil magnates, while their women stand pretty on their arms and talk about their latest diamond purchase.”
My mother pressed her lips together. “Freya, you don’t have to come with me.”
“It’s not about that!” My voice rose. “I don’t want anyone to look down on you, in any way. I won’t take it.”
She sighed then. “My mind is made up, Freya. I need to, at least try, for myself.”
“Oh, Mom,” I whispered, truly sad for her that she could not see what her friends were all about.
Freya
THREE WEEKS LATER
The fundraiser was just as I remembered it.
Extravagant, highfalutin, and the last place on earth I wanted to be. No doubt, a handful of the attendees had some interest in the cause the event was promoting, and what they would eventually be donating to. The rest of the room however was filled with millionaire and billionaire hyenas looking to either show off their ill-gotten gains, or secure access to new territories.
The women were dressed in elaborate gowns and the men in tailored tuxedos. None however, could in my eyes, compare to the sheer elegance of my mother.
The velvet cobalt blue wrap dress was especially made for her, I was sure. Flipped thickly over her neck line in a perfect V, showing just a bit of cleavage and hanging off the shoulders, covering the tops of her long creamy arms. The electric fabric hugged her hips and extended to the floor in a soft, beautiful, train. Her hair was bobbed perfectly away from her face and matching sapphire stone earrings dangled from her lobes.
I, on the other hand, had put in little effort, only for her. My dress was a halter neck, mid length in black ‒ a perfect reflection of my mood ‒ while my hair had just been blow-dried and let loose.
We both walked in and like the rest of the guests we were shown to a spiraling flight of stairs that was intended to announce one’s arrival. I could feel the room turn quiet as we stood at the head of the grand stairs. Surely, not everyone knew us and our history, but for those who did, we were most unwelcome.
I turned to look at my mother.
Her chin was high and there was a sophisticated smile playing on her lips. She wasn’t going to let them decide how she felt.
I forced myself to relax. Since she believed this would help her, I had come ready to protect her. We were shown to our seats which just as I had expected, a table near the kitchen door and filled with unknown nobodies. I didn’t mind that at all.
Mom however took a quick sip of water and got to her feet.
“Mom.” I rose, feeling quite sick with worry.
At my hand on her arm, she turned and gave me a smile.
“Do you want me to come with you?” I asked.
“I’ll be fine. We’re not completely ostracized. I’ll say hello to those who’ll allow it and make some new friends.”
I couldn't sit down, so I grabbed my clutch and kept my arm in hers. “Let’s go,” I said to her and we glided across the hall.
The center of the room was filled with sumptuous bouquets of snow white tulips and roses. Ignoring the many eyes watching us surreptitiously, I escorted my mom to wherever she was taking us.
She stopped to pick up two champagne flutes for us. As soon as I took my glass from her, she began to socialize. She was speaking to an aged but elegant couple I didn't recognize. The woman seemed to be asking her about her dress. My mom was smiling as she slipped her boutique card into the woman’s hand.
Then she was off, ever the perfect socialite.
I remained her shadow. I tried not to drink too much champagne, but I was halfway through the third one before I realized I was already feeling a little light-headed.
When another couple she had been talking to moved along, she looked around for me.
I returned to her side and she held up a business card, her eyes sparkling with success. Although it made me happy that she was doing what she wanted, I wished that I could tell her she did not have to.
Next week I intended to drop the first news of internship money.
“Mrs. Evelyn Anderson?” someone called out.
Mom and I turned to see another elegant couple.
“I haven’t seen you in ages,” the woman said somewhat politely to her.
My mom instantly responded gracefully, their conversation full of smiles and small chatter.
Before Mom could introduce me, I gently slipped away, and once again retreated into the shadows. Perhaps none of this would be so bad after all.
A tray of finger food was passing by so I quickly stepped forward to grab something, but when I saw the Mallory twins approaching, I quickly turned away and retreated back to the shadows, but I was too late.
Eliza allowed her mouth to fall open at my presence while her sister, Elise’s grin was filled with sick amusement.
“Freya! What are you doing here?” Elise asked brightly.
We had both grown up together in circles such as these. It was impossible not to become somewhat acquainted with the daughters of the big shot chairman of investment companies while my father had been in the same field, but thankfully, our paths never crossed in schools or anything beyond these kinds of social gatherings.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps I didn’t give a damn about much anymore, and especially not these two, but I slipped the smoked salmon on dill pikelets into my mouth and walked away without a word.
Searching for my mom, I saw she had moved on to a different set of acquaintances, this time a smaller group, and judging from her smiles I suspected she was doing okay. I left the hall and went in search of the bathroom.
A grandiose center arrangement of flowers had been placed in the Ladies. All of these touches of extravagance used to once be so familiar to me that I had thought little of it, but now it seemed so wasteful.
A few people came and went from the bathroom and I went into a corner stall. A loud group came in just as I was about to rise, so I sat back down for a little while longer, so that they would reapply their lipsticks or whatever business they had and be on their way. I had no desire to make small talk with anyone.
“Did you see Evelyn Anderson?” one began.
I instantly froze.
“I almost fell over when I did,” came the response. “I had to hold onto my husband. We quickly walked away before she could spot us and come over for a meet and greet.”
“What a shameless hussy,” another puffed. “How could she still show her face in such a place after what her husband did?”
“What did he do?” someone else asked.
I rose to my feet.
“He was charged with m
assive fraud. He was the founder of this virtual reality company that claimed to have some over the top technology. My husband said he applied this to some game set specifically in Italy or Spain, I forget which, and it attracted millions in investment. Turns out it was all an exaggerated lie. The technology did exist but he stole it from some kid, but something must have gone wrong. The boy just disappeared one day and till today, his whereabouts are unknown, but he had put some malware into it so it couldn’t be used. So everything eventually crumbled. What a coward though! He should be sitting in prison after defrauding his associates and investors, but he couldn’t even own up to his crimes and accept the shame. The coward killed himself.”
It felt as though someone had stabbed a knife into my heart. I held my hand to my chest. That was not what had happened. He had been sold the technology and then the boy had disappeared. He had been the one defrauded. I wanted to scream at them, but their words continued to wash over me.
“She has some kind of clothes shop now and she’s going around begging everybody to buy something from her,” another woman spoke up.
“What a brazen hussy. I almost told my husband to get someone from the committee to kick her out. I can’t believe she was invited here,” another voice spat spitefully.
“I saw that she brought her daughter along. Perhaps she’s trying to find a husband for her. Good luck with that. No one here will touch her with a bargepole. She’s toxic forever.”
“But I heard that her husband was framed, and that was why he couldn’t take the shame—”
“He wasn't framed!” came the argument from the first voice. “My husband was in charge of the investigation then and had direct access to all the facts.”
“She shouldn’t even be allowed here then.”
Highest Bidder Page 8
