I flip through the pages until I come to the first folded down corner. To my surprise, this page isn't lingerie at all but furniture. This must be a really diverse company to sell lingerie and furniture. I've never seen anything like it.
Halfway down the page, she has circled a black chair with black permanent marker. I tilt the catalogue trying to understand what is so special about this strangely shaped chair. Then I read the description next to Item 2453B and my breath catches. It's described as a Tantric chair. Perfect to support more adventurous positions.
I turn the catalogue over and suddenly the skimpy outfits make sense. Upon closer inspection it's quite obvious that the lingerie is on the risqué side and when I flip back through some of the pages that aren't marked, there is everything from cock rings to giant dildos. I stop on one page and then hastily flip back to the page Rissa marked. I don't have time to think about why any woman would want a giant purple dildo right now.
Rissa has left another sticky note on the page she marked. I bark out a laugh at the hastily scribbled note.
- - Perfect for your overnight guests. Especially the one who keeps losing her panties in your couch cushions!
A few pages over she has dog-eared a section with handcuffs and nipple tassels.
- - These would be perfect wall decor. Very avant-garde, right?
I'm chuckling as I page through the magazine, discovering several other colorful suggestions for my home decorating needs. The damn woman is playing by my rules and beating me at my own game.
I tuck the catalogue under my arm and stand. She's left this for me trying to get the last word. I text Jonah to bring the car around. I know where she lives so I'm thinking maybe I should drop by and let her know I got her message. It'll also be my chance to apologize for making her cry this morning. No woman wants to be reminded of a breakup.
The ride over to her house is quick but pointless. As soon as we pull up and I see the dark house, I remember that she said she works another job in the evenings. I give Jonah the address to her business office. Hopefully I can catch her before she leaves.
Someone is stepping out of the front door of the small building as we pull up. I roll down the window slightly. "Rissa?"
The girl turns and regards the expensive car in silence. I open the door and step out. Her eyes immediately land on my cane before she pulls her gaze away. I smile at her to let her know that I'm not offended.
"You must be Daphne."
I know who she is due to my research not because Rissa ever mentioned her. Getting Rissa to open up about anything has been difficult to say the least. But Daphne doesn't know that. She looks startled that I know her name, and then she relaxes.
"That's me. Who are you?"
I hold out my hand and she takes a tentative step forward to shake it. "Finn Marshall. I'm here to see Rissa."
"Well, I'm sorry to tell you that you've missed her. I guess you're stuck with me instead."
"That's nothing to be sorry about." When I smile at her, she blushes slightly. "Although I was hoping I could catch Rissa before she went home. I wanted to thank her."
Daphne glances behind her at the obviously empty building. "Home? Oh, she's probably on a job still."
"Could I go see her there? I don't mind driving over."
At the look on Daphne's face I can tell she isn't going to give up the location of Rissa's current job easily. I'm happy to see her loyalty and frustrated because she's the only thing standing in my way.
"She's very lucky to have a friend like you looking out for her. But I mean her no harm. She's an old friend from high school and I'm actually one of your clients. As of last week, anyway."
Suddenly her eyes swing to my face. "You're the high-rise?"
I'm not sure why that one piece of information seems so important but if that works for her, I'll go with it. "Yeah that's me. Rissa left some decorating suggestions for me this morning. I wanted to thank her. And I have to admit, I also don't like the idea of her walking alone to her car late at night. I'm sure she'd think that was overprotective but I can't help it."
Daphne bobs her head in agreement. "She would think it was overprotective. But then she's stubborn like that."
"When did that happen? She didn't have a problem with me walking her to her classes when we were in high school." The memory makes me laugh a little. Even before we'd been officially dating, I had always walked Rissa everywhere. I wasn't going to take a chance on any of those assholes messing with her when I wasn't around. That had caused problems with the girls I'd dated before her and I still hadn't cared. I'd been a slave to her even then.
Daphne smiles. “Sounds like you're sweet on her.”
The description sounds entirely too tame for how I feel about Marissa Blake. I want her, I hate her, I crave her. Thoughts of her have consumed me for years until it seems there's little sanity or rational thought left in me when it comes to her. There's nothing sweet about it. However, there's no expression in the English language that would encompass all that so I just nod. “Yes, I am.”
That seems to push her into a decision. With one last glance at my cane she says, "She’s at Mercers this time of evening. You know, the big department store."
I don't shop often but I'm well aware of the store. It's one of the only locally owned department stores left in the area.
Halfway down the page, she has circled a black chair with black permanent marker. I tilt the catalogue trying to understand what is so special about this strangely shaped chair. Then I read the description next to Item 2453B and my breath catches. It's described as a Tantric chair. Perfect to support more adventurous positions.
I turn the catalogue over and suddenly the skimpy outfits make sense. Upon closer inspection it's quite obvious that the lingerie is on the risqué side and when I flip back through some of the pages that aren't marked, there is everything from cock rings to giant dildos. I stop on one page and then hastily flip back to the page Rissa marked. I don't have time to think about why any woman would want a giant purple dildo right now.
Rissa has left another sticky note on the page she marked. I bark out a laugh at the hastily scribbled note.
- - Perfect for your overnight guests. Especially the one who keeps losing her panties in your couch cushions!
A few pages over she has dog-eared a section with handcuffs and nipple tassels.
- - These would be perfect wall decor. Very avant-garde, right?
I'm chuckling as I page through the magazine, discovering several other colorful suggestions for my home decorating needs. The damn woman is playing by my rules and beating me at my own game.
I tuck the catalogue under my arm and stand. She's left this for me trying to get the last word. I text Jonah to bring the car around. I know where she lives so I'm thinking maybe I should drop by and let her know I got her message. It'll also be my chance to apologize for making her cry this morning. No woman wants to be reminded of a breakup.
The ride over to her house is quick but pointless. As soon as we pull up and I see the dark house, I remember that she said she works another job in the evenings. I give Jonah the address to her business office. Hopefully I can catch her before she leaves.
Someone is stepping out of the front door of the small building as we pull up. I roll down the window slightly. "Rissa?"
The girl turns and regards the expensive car in silence. I open the door and step out. Her eyes immediately land on my cane before she pulls her gaze away. I smile at her to let her know that I'm not offended.
"You must be Daphne."
I know who she is due to my research not because Rissa ever mentioned her. Getting Rissa to open up about anything has been difficult to say the least. But Daphne doesn't know that. She looks startled that I know her name, and then she relaxes.
"That's me. Who are you?"
I hold out my hand and she takes a tentative step forward to shake it. "Finn Marshall. I'm here to see Rissa."
"Well, I'm sorry to tell you that you've missed her. I guess you're stuck with me instead."
"That's nothing to be sorry about." When I smile at her, she blushes slightly. "Although I was hoping I could catch Rissa before she went home. I wanted to thank her."
Daphne glances behind her at the obviously empty building. "Home? Oh, she's probably on a job still."
"Could I go see her there? I don't mind driving over."
At the look on Daphne's face I can tell she isn't going to give up the location of Rissa's current job easily. I'm happy to see her loyalty and frustrated because she's the only thing standing in my way.
"She's very lucky to have a friend like you looking out for her. But I mean her no harm. She's an old friend from high school and I'm actually one of your clients. As of last week, anyway."
Suddenly her eyes swing to my face. "You're the high-rise?"
I'm not sure why that one piece of information seems so important but if that works for her, I'll go with it. "Yeah that's me. Rissa left some decorating suggestions for me this morning. I wanted to thank her. And I have to admit, I also don't like the idea of her walking alone to her car late at night. I'm sure she'd think that was overprotective but I can't help it."
Daphne bobs her head in agreement. "She would think it was overprotective. But then she's stubborn like that."
"When did that happen? She didn't have a problem with me walking her to her classes when we were in high school." The memory makes me laugh a little. Even before we'd been officially dating, I had always walked Rissa everywhere. I wasn't going to take a chance on any of those assholes messing with her when I wasn't around. That had caused problems with the girls I'd dated before her and I still hadn't cared. I'd been a slave to her even then.
Daphne smiles. “Sounds like you're sweet on her.”
The description sounds entirely too tame for how I feel about Marissa Blake. I want her, I hate her, I crave her. Thoughts of her have consumed me for years until it seems there's little sanity or rational thought left in me when it comes to her. There's nothing sweet about it. However, there's no expression in the English language that would encompass all that so I just nod. “Yes, I am.”
That seems to push her into a decision. With one last glance at my cane she says, "She’s at Mercers this time of evening. You know, the big department store."
I don't shop often but I'm well aware of the store. It's one of the only locally owned department stores left in the area.
