“Liar. Anyways, how was your date with Lana?” Now that, I like to talk about.
“It was the best night of my life. I wanted her to accompany me to the wedding I’m going to tonight, but she is actually working the event.”
“I admire her work ethic.”
“You and me both, Adam.”
“Where is she now?”
“She is out doing errands for her dick-ass boss.”
“What kind of fucking errands?”
“Picking up his fucking laundry, products for the restaurant, and so on.”
“Why?” I love how mad Adam is getting.
“Because he doesn’t want to pay for a service and because he is a fucking asshole. I told her to stop working for him.”
“I would cut off his hands.” It’s a reasonable response. Her boss shouldn’t be asking her to do menial stuff, and he shouldn’t be feeling her up.
“I know, but she needs that job.”
“Give her money, asshole. You have lots of it.” Again, a reasonable response. And maybe I should do it.
“I’ll talk to her about it. Fuck, I hate that I’m going to the wedding. I really don’t want to.”
“Who is getting married anyway?”
“A client who rents one of my properties in Sarajevo.” It’s mainly a courtesy because the guy is actually solid. I drop Adam off and am now heading to my primary residence to get ready for the event.
***
I’m wearing a suit that fits like a glove—black and tailored the way I like it, topped off with a dark gray tie. The cut does the talking, and the jacket hugs my shoulders, the shirt’s top buttons undone just enough to breathe, to tease. To tease my little hummingbird.
I get into my black Audi, and the engine revs as I hit the gas.
On my way to the wedding venue, I can’t help but think about what she is doing right now.
Time to find out.
25
Lana
I have done everything to secure this gig at the hotel, and I must say that I’m proud of myself. I never thought that I could do this, but here I am.
Serving people food and looking out to see ifheis already here. I am getting dressed for work at the hotel and thinking back on my date with M.
The most baffling thing about all of this is how much of a hold M has on me. In the last couple of days, I have been reflecting on what to do, and I’m conflicted. Should I let this continue? Or should I stop it? But stopping means relinquishing the desire he is awakening in me. All my life, I have been a dutiful daughter, rarely indulging in my deepest, darkest desires.
To be chased.
To be fucked thoroughly.
Not to be asked about being fucked thoroughly.
To becaught.
