Sure, my end goal is to be handed my ambitions on a golden platter and to live an unearned life of luxury and extravagance.
However, there isn’t much point in shooting for the stars, if reaching them is meaningless.
Chapter Two
Lilith
Alittle sleep and a few hours didn’t give me much time to reflect or plan how I should proceed with Tom, but there’s no going back now. Tonight’s the night I enact a plan that has been weeks in the making. I’m setting a course for the rest of my life. I’m not going to waste this opportunity.
To still my nerves and kill time, I spent my morning in the city. Alone by choice, I drifted aimlessly from one district to the next, hoping to find answers in one of them. None came, but I did manage to find rejuvenation inthe endless sea of people and the stalls of the Kinkako District’s outdoor market.
It’s not often that I find myself wanting to be surrounded by people, strangers even less, but every once in a while I find it a welcome reminder that my troubles aren’t nearly as dire as I think they might be. It puts things in perspective. Reminds me that they could always be worse.
I get back to a quiet house. That’s unsurprising, of course, since Mom found herself a new man… a new toy to play with. Some corporate bigwig from MilGen Global Armaments. I rarely wonder what Mom’s end goals are when she’s on the hunt, but this is different. MilGen is one of Midnite City’s big five mega-corporations, and the mega-corps don’t take kindly to people screwing around with their business.
I head upstairs, pretending there’s nothing to concern myself with, and take a shower. I’ve still got a few hours until Tom’s driver arrives, but time has a funny way of sneaking up on you when you’re dressing to impress.
After my shower, I head into my walk-in closet. That is the understatement of the century, because theclosetis identical in size to my bedroom. It’s also fully stocked with multiple seasons’ worth of clothes, arranged in shelves and drawers, and it contains a vanity table that rivals the highest-end beauty salons. I have everything at my fingertips to hook Tom for good.
I spend the rest of my afternoon there. There’s no reason to leave other than to pee, but with my nerves bubbling out of control, I’m too preoccupied to worry about bodily needs.
Once my makeup’s done, I slip into my outfit and head back to my room. The lighting’s better in here, and it will give me a better idea of how I truly look. However, I don’t even get through the door before I see a form sprawled out on my bed.
“Jesus Christ.” An ache resonates through my entire body as I tense up in fear. An unnecessary reaction, when I realize it’s just Misha Bardot lying there.
“You scared the hell out of me, Mish.”
Misha’s as much a part of this household as I am. Her family is from somewhere in the west, but she’s never given me a more concrete location as towherein the west that is other than the Mojave Desert.
The Badlands of California, she calls it. She says it is a brutally hot and unforgiving terrain, where the strong survive and the weak turn to dust. That must be how she remembers it as a kid, seeing as she’s lived in Midnite City since ninth grade.
That’s where we met on the first day of high school. We’ve been best friends ever since. Because Misha doesn’t have a place to call her own, Mom and I offered her a part of ours for whenever she needs it.
“I texted you,” she says lazily, not looking up from her cellphone, her dark hair slipping loose from its ponytail. “Shouted when I got to the door, too.”
“I didn’t hear you. But, while we’re on the topic, what are you doing here?”
She wouldn’t be lying about the texting. No matter how many times we tell her she can come by whenever she wants, Misha insists on the respectful approach.
“I have to go in a few minutes,” I add.
That catches her attention and she tilts her head toward me. Her eyes nearly bulge out of her skull when she sees me.
“Good God, woman, you look stunning,” she says.
Without wanting to sound vain, I agree.
So as to stick to the casual dress-up party code Tom set, I opted for a slutty cat outfit. It’s a cliché, sure, but the leather bodysuit hugs my curves so tightly it leaves almost nothing to the imagination. It’s cut high along my hips and thighs, the leather broken up by sheer black fishnets underneath. What I like most is how amazing my tits look in it. They are propped up, perky and firm, with way too much cleavage spilling out the top.
Tom Henderson’s not gonna know what hit him when I walk through his door.
I head over to the standing mirror and inspect myself in full. My outfit’s complete, apart from my cat-pawed gloves and kitty-ear headband. I chose to be sparing with mymakeup. Just a light foundation, with a gentle application of blush on my cheeks. However, I did spend a lot of time getting a smoky, layered appearance around my eyes. I want the blue to pop and dazzle, and all signs indicate that I succeeded, as I pout and practice different expressions in the mirror.
“Which makes what I’m about to say a lot harder,” Misha continues, once she’s successfully collected her jaw off the ground.
“Let’s hear it, then.” I roll my eyes, already knowing where this is headed.
“You shouldn’t go tonight.” She sits upright and rests her palms on the bed for support. “Something about this doesn’t sit right with me.”
