Becoming His Mistress

by Murphy, A. E.

  Mr. C: It was OUR mess.

  Rose: Let’s just blame it on Maria and call it a day.

  Mr. C: Agreed.

  I put my phone down, still beaming. I can’t wipe the smile from my face.

  “Who was that?” Pax asks me for the third time. I had my mouthful, I used that as an excuse to not reply.

  “Mr. Conti,” I say and jolt when he slams his knife down on the table.

  “Never seen somebody so happy messaging their boss before.”

  “Don’t start,” I warn, and he glares at me. “I mean it. Don’t.”

  He stands, pushing his chair back so harshly it almost tips over. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “You do that,” I reply, feeling a headache brewing in my skull.

  He storms out of my house leaving me to clean up the breakfast plates. Not that I mind the latter part. Cleaning will take my mind off this asshole.

  I also brave the light and open all the curtains. When I look out of the window I want to cry. My eyes don’t hurt, and they keep blurring in and out… but I can see everything. Absolutely everything.

  I have a flowerbox beneath my window, and I can see beads of moisture on the leaves from the light shower of rain we had this morning. I can see the lines in the road, and I can read the words on the bus stop opposite the steps leading up to my neighbor’s house. I couldn’t even see those with my glasses. My eyesight was seriously bad before. I didn’t realize just how bad.

  I call Laurie, fighting the urge to cry, but she doesn’t answer. She’s probably at work so I call somebody else instead.

  Somebody I probably shouldn’t be calling…

  “Is it weird that I’m crying because I can see everything? Well… I’m not crying but I really want to.”

  “Is the world a beautiful place?” he asks, a smile in his voice.

  “It’s better than I imagined. I just… I can read words from far away. My head is hurting because of all of this new information it’s trying to store.”

  “Take it easy. Don’t overdo it.”

  I smile, leaning out of the window to see further down the street. “I’ve been blind for so long… I feel like a new person.”

  “Don’t change too much. We all like you just how you are.”

  “Thanks, Mr. C.”

  “Ezra,” he corrects.

  “I’ll see you in a week,” I reply, smiling too.

  “See you in a week.”

  I disconnect the call and head for a shower. I’m going on a walk.

  Pax returns while I’m washing and decides he wants to join me. His bad mood gone. We make love against the shower wall.

  Chapter Nineteen

  He’s always there when I need him.

  The week can’t end quick enough. True to my word, I have changed my style. Pax helped me clear out my wardrobe until there was nearly nothing left and then we went shopping together. Choosing more womanly suits for work, skinny jeans, waist-high pants, dresses for outside of work. My closet no longer has any trace left of the old me.

  It was sad. I cried. I kept my purple suit and some pajamas and that’s it. We donated the rest to a thrift store, or Pax did. I stayed home and kept crying.

  It’s for the best, Pax is right, I’m getting older now and I need to be taken more seriously.

  And now I’m getting my hair done with Laurie by my side. We’re having a girls’ day. Hair and then makeup, though the latter is purely so I can learn how to apply more than just a lick of mascara to my lashes.

  I’m not about to start using highlighter but I’d like to start being able to do my brows and put a bit of shading on my eyelids. Now that I actually have eyes.

  “You look so weird,” Laurie tells me as the lady behind me snips into my thick, burgundy hair.

  “Good weird or bad weird?”

  “You look hot as fuck, but… you just don’t look like you anymore.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “That’s kind of the point.”

  “Whose point? I thought you were happy as you were?”

  I look at my friend in the mirror, she’s in the chair beside me, her red hair in foils. She’s getting hers lightened.

  “I was, but I need to start getting more serious. We’re not getting any younger and I really want to be respected.”

  She laughs harshly. “Respected? Because of how you look?”

  “That’s how it works.”

  “But… you’re already respected.”

  “No, I’m not… people treat me like a naïve teenager. They say mean shit about me all the time and think I’m an intern. The whole point was to be invisible and instead I was the joke of the office.”

  Laurie looks incredulously at me. “And Pax told you that, I’m assuming?”

  “I heard it myself, you know I did.”

  “And you don’t think people will say anything now? You’re a knockout, you’re gorgeous… you’ve gone from pauper to model… you don’t think people are going to notice?”

  She’s right… I should have done this gradually. “I’m dreading work tomorrow, don’t make this harder for me.”

  “I bet you are. Nobody is going to recognize you.” She reaches for my hand and I extend mine to her too. We can’t quite touch each other so we tickle the ends of our fingers together and giggle. “You were beautiful then and you’re beautiful now… just don’t lose sight of who you are. Especially not for a guy.”

  “Amen, sister,” the woman cutting my hair says and then bumps knuckles with my best friend.

  “There’s no going back now anyway,” I murmur. “I got rid of everything.”

  “You look amazing,” the lady who just bumped knuckles with my best friend says. “And when I’m done with your hair, you’re going to look even more amazing.”

  I smile at her, watching her snip at my newly colored wavy black hair like the pro she is.

  * * *

  To say Pax approves of my new look would be an understatement. He hasn’t left me alone since I arrived at his apartment yesterday with colored thick waves, trimmed to my shoulder blades, and my body encased in waist-high jeans that are baggy on the leg, and a pink crop top that hugs my breasts. He peeled me out of my clothes faster than I put them on.

  I don’t even own a pair of cotton panties anymore except a packet for my period week. The rest of my things are all matching and, to be honest, I do feel really sexy under my clothes. I’m wearing a new pantsuit that fits me like a glove. Even the jacket cinches in at the waist, but underneath I’ve got on a black corset-style bra that zips in the middle, and matching panties. And even though nobody can see it I feel powerful somehow, sexier. I don’t particularly like the feeling. It’s a new feeling.

  I almost turn back and put on the dark purple suit Ezra got me for Christmas but I know I need to get a grip and get over it.

  I’m a lot earlier than usual but I need to check my desk and make sure everything is still in its place or I’ll be cutting into paid office time to do it and I imagine I’ll have a lot to deal with and catch up on today.

  With my tablet resting on my arm, I head into the building and make a beeline for the elevator, keeping my head down as I go.

  Mr. Conti steps in before me, I hadn’t realized I was hot on his heels I was too busy connecting to the company WI-FI.

  “Morning,” I singsong, hoping he doesn’t look at me too hard.

  He glances at me as I stand by his side in the empty elevator.

  “Morning.” Not his usual cheery greeting. I was hoping for a bit more than that seeing as I’ve been off all week.

  “My desk better not have been touched,” I comment, and he turns his head and does a slow blink. “I’m not afraid to cut you.”

  He gapes at me, his lips slightly parted as he does the one thing I didn’t want him to do. “You… you’re wearing… I didn’t recognize you.”

  I shift on the spot as the elevator doors open and then hurry through them.

  “Do I look bad?” I ask as I power on
ahead, stopping to laugh when I see yellow police tape all around my desk. Forgetting my question, I grin at him over my shoulder and find him still looking at me with that look of bewilderment on his face. “Did you do this?”

  “I wouldn’t want to get cut,” he comments, still looking me up and down.

  “Will you stop looking at me like that?” I whine and smack his arm.

  He feigns injury, back to his old playful self and I follow him into his office. I take in the files scattered across the coffee table and the backwards binders on the shelf. “It’s good to have you back.”

  I can see that. What did he do while I was gone? Nothing is organized. So glad I came in early.

  “And I don’t look stupid?”

  He stops and turns my way as the door clicks shut behind me.

  His gray eyes linger on mine and I jump when he pushes a strand of my black hair behind my ear, a tender touch, so sweet and soft. It leaves a burning trail across my skin. “You could never look stupid.”

  “I can see every fleck of color in your eyes,” I breathe, leaning closer and trying to count the shards of darker gray that cut through the ring of lighter gray.

  He holds his breath and nibbles slightly on his lower lip as I stare into his eyes like a weirdo.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, and I put my finger to his soft lips. He pulls it away and absentmindedly kisses the palm. “Wait… are you counting?”

  I inhale sharply and immediately stop. “No. Not at all. I don’t count. Who does that?”

  “You were counting.”

  “Was not.”

  “Was too.”

  “I wasn’t.” I so was.

  He raises a brow, lips twitching with amusement, hands searching in his pockets.

  I squeak and race from the room before he can throw anything at me.

  Then… when I get to my desk, I realize something…

  Mr. Conti kissed my hand. I look at the space that still tingles from his lips and touch it with the tips of my fingers.

  Shaking my head, I rid myself of any thoughts of my boss and his lips on my body and get on with my work. It’s going to be a long day.

  Pax comes in an hour later, kissing my hair and commenting on how nice I look. I usher him on, scared to get caught being too close to him and I don’t see him again until his scheduled meeting with Mr. Conti just before lunch.

  He winks at me as he passes and then shuts the door behind him. I work on, keeping my head down and busy until Pax leaves and takes me for bagels at a deli down the street.

  “What have people said about your new look?”

  “Nobody recognizes me,” I comment, smiling around a mouthful of beef, bagel, and mustard. “I went to the gym before work this morning and they almost didn’t let me in because of my lack of glasses. I didn’t realize how much they defined my features.”

  “We’re able to make actual eye contact while we fuck now,” he jests making me laugh. “Instead of you just looking up at a blur of handsome features.”

  “This is true.” My eyes are amazing now, I can just see so many things. It’s mesmerizing to me. I hope I never get tired of it.

  I finish my lunch chatting and laughing with the man who shares my bed every night, but as is regular these days, his demeanor changes when I go back to the counter to order Mr. C’s lunch to go. Something I do almost every day, or whenever he asks. It’s my job even though I’d probably do it even if it wasn’t.

  But then I’ve noticed that Pax is just a very jealous guy in general. All we have done on my week off is fight because now I’m actually dressed nice, if I even look at another man funny it’s disrespectful to my boyfriend. Aka Pax.

  Because I don’t see how desirable I am. Which is ironic because that’s how he wanted me, isn’t it?

  It’s getting tiring.

  I’ve had enough.

  At the end of the day, the way I see it is I don’t need him in my life to be happy. I was perfectly content before he came along. And now I’m all powerful with my secret sexy underwear, I have the confidence to tell him to fuck off if I must.

  Okay, so I have the confidence anyway, but the underwear helps.

  “It’s just really fucking disrespectful,” he goes on, in front of the entire deli while I take the paper bag of food from the barista guy. Even the guy behind the counter looks exhausted by him. Especially when he drags him into it. “Don’t you agree, as a guy?”

  “I’m just here to work, sir,” the guy replies, and I mouth a sorry.

  Pax keeps yapping at me as we walk but I’m no longer listening. I’m so over this conversation and I have been forever.

  I wish we’d never started dating. I’ve never wished that before.

  I’ve spoken to Izabella about this too because she’s older and wiser and she told me that Pax is sucking the life right out of me. I’m starting to think she’s right. How can such a handsome and charming guy be so high-maintenance?

  He even fired Julia and hired a male receptionist so that I’d quit my job. He seemed to think that if he did that I’d go and work for him because I’m his girlfriend, or at the very least leave Ezra. I laughed it off and to say he got mad is an understatement.

  His behavior is becoming alarming. It’s an everyday thing now.

  I’m so done.

  He continues yelling as we walk through the office building and into the elevator. He calls me ignorant and tells me over and over how I should see things from his point of view.

  “I just don’t understand why you think you need——”

  I snap, this is it. I’m done. I’m so done.

  I place the deli bag on my desk and turn so sharply on Pax I startle him into silence.

  “I’m breaking up with you,” I say simply, and he blinks slowly at me.

  “Excuse me.”

  “I’m done. It’s over.”

  He laughs humorlessly, looking around to be sure that nobody is looking or listening. “You can’t be serious… you’re breaking up with me? Why? Because suddenly you’re sexy so you think you’re hot shit?”

  “No, because you’re an absolute dick and you don’t make me happy anymore,” I reply angrily. “I’m sick and tired of having the same fucking argument every single day. I’m sick of hearing you whine and moan and bitch and God… I just… I don’t want this anymore so please leave me alone.”

  “You love me. You’re not going to leave me.”

  “Love you?” I laugh humorlessly. “I don’t even like you anymore. That trumps any feelings of love I have for you. Just find somebody else to verbally abuse, that’s not going to be me anymore.”

  “You’re choosing him over me?” His blue eyes are wild with hurt pride and disgust. “He’s married. You’re nothing but a fucking whore.”

  I gasp when he grabs Mr. Conti’s sandwich from my desk and stomps on it until the paper is ripped and there’s bagel all over the ground and mayonnaise smushed into the wooden floor amongst other things.

  I don’t say anything else; I met a few guys who reacted like this back in foster care, it didn’t end well for the people around them.

  He stalks away to his office and I don’t realize until I’m about to pick up the crushed bagel that Mr. C is in the hall with me.

  “Leave it,” he insists, taking my hands before I can pick it up. We stand together and he guides me into his office, his gray eyes swimming with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your hands are shaking.” He takes them both in his again. “Does he often react like that with you?”

  “Not with me…” I’ve seen him throw tantrums over other things with other people but not like that.

  His eyes wash over me and he rubs my arms with strong palms. “Are you frightened of him?”

  “I wasn’t but…” I bite on my lip. “I’m sorry, this shouldn’t be happening, but he just doesn’t know when to stop. He goes on and on and on and it doesn’t matter where we are or who we’re with. Yo
u know?”

  “I know, I’ve seen him on a rampage myself. He’s very argumentative.”

  “I’m just tired of it,” I mutter, wishing I could rub my eyes but mascara. “So tired. I don’t have the energy to spend fighting with him anymore.”

  “Do you need a hug?” he asks, his face set with a silly boyish smile, his arms wide.

  I consider it, remembering our Christmas embrace, the one where he pressed his whole body to mine, how he inhaled my hair like it was his favorite scent in the world.

  How I want so badly to feel that again.

  “I’m okay,” I respond, feeling my cheeks heat at the memory.

  He lets his arms drop to his sides and a look of rejection passes across his face, but it vanishes as quickly as it came. “Just let me know if he bothers you at all, okay?”

  “Thanks, boss,” I say, adding extra emphasis to the word boss, hoping he understands why I can’t hug him. I really wish I had though.

  He gives amazing hugs.

  “You got it, Ms. Sinclair,” he replies, his smile gone.

  I return to my desk, pushing the look of rejection out of my head. He didn’t mean anything by it. Did he?

  My speaker buzzes, I hold on to the button and speak, “Yes, boss?”

  “Book us a flight for New York City.”

  “No problem, when for?”

  “Thursday.”

  “Time?”

  “Any, the meeting isn’t until the following day.”

  “What meeting am I preparing for?”

  His line crackles as he moves around and his chair squeaks loudly. “A representative from the Japanese company Denki No Corp. They’re emailing me the details shortly. This could be our biggest client of our lives. If we get them, we’re talking a billion-dollar purchase and a very nice Christmas bonus for you.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Yep.”

  “Shame we don’t have to go to Japan. That would have been awesome.”

  “Agreed. But they need to see our best tech at work.”

  I smile, feeling excited. “Well, I’ll get WhyTech NYC to get their asses in gear.”