Still, Gerald better be waiting at the door with a large drink.
I turn into the carpark, winding around the storeys until I reach the second to top. There are hundreds of empty parks before the one I choose but, on this level, we just need to walk out of the parking garage and across the air bridge to reach the department store. It’s closed to the public as of fifteen minutes ago, but that doesn’t apply to me.
Most rules don’t apply to me.
“Lock!”
I glance up at my nickname and smile as a cloud of fuchsia, rosewater, and blonde hair envelopes me. “Hey, Tandi. Slight change of plans.” I jerk my chin towards my new companion, then frown. “What’s your name?”
She blinks in surprise when I stare at her, taking so long to catch up that I’m worried she’s a bit slow. “G-George.”
“Right. G-George is now my date instead of Kari. She’s about the right size, yeah?”
Even if she wasn’t, Tandi isn’t about to correct me. She’s old school servile. Thinking ten steps ahead and barking orders to make sure the people paying her bills never have to think about anything twice.
If I had my way, I’d marry her, not some spoiled princess like Kari.
“Would you like a glass of champagne while you wait?”
See? The perfect woman. I hold out my hand and a full flute appears in it like magic.
“You’re very flat chested,” Tandi says, wrinkling her nose as she surveys George. “What undergarments do you have?”
She strips the clothes off my unfortunate date while the girl’s still trying to frame an answer, the four attendants darting in to get things done while she spins in a slow circle, completely failing to grasp what’s happening.
I sit in a nearby chair. I also need to get changed, but a suit isn’t exactly rocket science. I don’t need my hair cut and styled; my face painted over with a better-looking version.
Even if I wear the shirt stays that seem completely overboard, it’s still nothing like the intricacies of ladies’ underwear.
So, as another nail in the misogyny coffin, I get to sit here getting sophisticatedly wasted while George is sprayed and painted and dunked under water to achieve a fairly similar effect.
“We’ll have her ready to go by six-thirty,” Tandi reassures me after her staff have given my new date a thorough inspection. She’s bundled into the shower, probably with an attendant nearby with a stopwatch, telling her exactly when she needs to step out to make the deadline.
Honestly. Some days, being wealthy is a hassle and other times, it’s a sheer delight.
“What the fuck are those?” I snort when my date reappears, dressed only in her underwear. They’re some discount supermarket brand by the looks of them, washed until their original white has turned into a dishrag grey.
There’s no way I’m stripping those off with my teeth. I’d need to brush them after.
“Can you put her in something nicer?” I ask Tandi, looking forward to the afterparty more the longer I stare at George in her current state of undress. Her body’s so different from Kari’s I can’t wait to explore it.
“Get the white lace with garter belt and suspenders,” Tandi orders, after a glance at my expression, tutting over the inadequate provisions. “What bra size are you? B cup?”
“If they’re padded.” The girl blushes such a deep red she looks likely to give Rudolph a run for his money. “Otherwise, it’s an A.”
Tandi snaps her fingers at one helper, who rushes off to fulfil the request. As I sit back and watch her strip out of one bra only to don another, I couldn’t care less about their size. All I know is they’re the cutest, perkiest set of titties I’ve seen in a long while. More nipple than substance, but I bet they’re sensitive.
My tongue licks away a drop of champagne from my upper lip, easily imagining what they’d feel like under its rough caress.
George glances over to me, seeming to realise for the first time I’m still in the room while she’s being manhandled into and out of her clothing. Another blush joins the first until her entire skin looks like she spent a half hour too long in the sun. Delicious.
Kari is immune to humiliation. Something that sounds good in theory but makes her far too hard to manipulate.
This girl, though.
Not that I need more ways to manipulate her. Her father’s debt seems like it’ll work just fine by itself.
I work my way through most of the bottle by the time George is ready. Turns out Poverty McPoorface scrubs up okay. Given the price tag, she ought to.
