I always call her “ma’am” at work. It’s polite, for starters. I use ma’am, and sir, and please, and thank you. My mom raised us right, and impressions are everything in this business. That’s something else Casey drove into my brain—to act the part, fake it until I make it.
“No,” she says. “You’redriving us home.”
My heart pounds, throbs. “Ma’am?”
That playful smile of hers always hits me hard in the feelz. Yes, I’ve masturbated to countless sexual fantasies about Casey, but she’s fifteen years older than me and probably sees me as a little brother. I’ve never had a girlfriend, because I don’t have time for one.
If I ever want to take my revenge, and want to silence the voices in my head that insist I’m a faker, all I have time for right now is school and work. Relationships can come later.
I really don’t even have friends. I mean, I do, but they’re all older than me—attorneys, or clerks and paralegals in the law office, or their family members. Casey is best friends with George’s wife, Ellen, and they’ve known each other since college. They frequently invite to social gatherings with them, which is nice.
Everyone treats me like I’m an adult, not like I’m only eighteen. People I encounter through the law firm, people who don’t know me, assume I’m either a junior associate, or a paralegal, or that I’m already in law school.
It helps alleviate my imposter syndrome a little when they invariably act surprised in a good way when I reveal my age, because they almost always think I’m at least ten years older than I am.
Unfortunately, the voice quickly creeps back into my brain.
The one that tells me I’m worthless, that I’ll never be anything. That people like me can’t succeed. I know it lies but that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore.
We’re the last ones out of the office tonight. She locks up and sets the alarm while I’m nervously adjusting the seat and mirrors in her car. She shoots me a playful smile when she slides into the passenger seat.
“You know the only problem with this, don’t you?” she asks.
I nervously shake my head. “No, ma’am.”
She reaches over and pats me on the thigh. “I could get used to having a driver. This might spoil me, boy.”
I finally laugh, some of my tension easing. “I’ll be happy to drive you around, ma’am. It’s the least I can do for you. Especially in your car.”
A little disappointment trickles through me when she withdraws her hand from my leg. I know the innocent contact will make its way into my fantasies tonight, though.
That her hand didn’t stop there. That it crept up my thigh and between my legs, and—
When my cock starts to sound off in my slacks, I swallow and force the daydream out of my head. If I don’t want to crash her expensive car, I need to focus.
Casey would never be interested in me. This I know because she has no trouble getting dates and going out. She’s dated at least a dozen men in the time I’ve known her.
Men,notboys.
Let’s add to that she’s never acted even slightly inappropriate with me. The last thing I want to do is creep her out. She is literally my only family.
She’s also my future co-conspirator, but we don’t talk about that right now. We made a deal when she first walked into my life, but nothing will happen until after I get my law degree and pass the bar.
Until then, I promised to work my ass off toward that goal first. Then we’ll both be in a better position to decide how to get the justice my sister and the others deserve.
“Have you decided what you want for dinner tonight?” I ask.
While I live with her, even though she didn’t ask me to, I take care of all the chores. I’m not paying fair market value for my room and board—literally, she’s only charging me fifty bucks a week. She won’t let me pay her more.
I’m expected to clean up after myself, obviously, and do my own laundry, but she has a housekeeper who comes in once a week.
Still, I do laundry, cook, take care of the kitchen clean-up, and do other things for her while I’m between semesters. It’s not only gratitude on my part—it’s a form of self-preservation. I want to make sure I don’t wear out my welcome with her. I really don’t have anywhere else to go when I’m not in the dorms.
Plus, I enjoy doing things for her. I like the way she smiles at me, the way she thanks me. It makes her happy when I do things for her.
Yeah, that’s a little selfish of me, and I’ll own it, but it’s mutually beneficial, too, so shut up.
“What do we have?” she asks.
