I decide right then that I don’t care if he’s scary or dangerous or whatever, this will be the most fun I’ve ever had earning two million dollars.
I lay there for long minutes. “Fabien,” I finally mutter into my pillow. “I have to… use the facilities.”
“Go ahead, use the bathroom then come right back here and go back to sleep.”
“Done.”
I scamper out of bed and marvel at how strange my body feels. My ass should ache because of the spanking he gave me, but the hot oil did wonders. I feel limber and well-rested. The light fragrance of the oil still lingers in the air.
I push open the bathroom door and stop.
I blink.
The bathroom’s been transformed. White candles flicker along the windowsill, nestled on a shining silver tray. Soft strains of classical music play from hidden speakers. Beside the massive shower sits a sturdy table laden with the fluffiest, most brilliant white towels I’ve ever seen. I turn slowly to look at him in wonder. His phone up to his ear, he gives me a wink. My heart warms. I blow him a kiss and turn back to the bathroom.
I realize all at once what he’s doing.He’s giving me my perfect day.
In France, weddings rarely take place much before four o’clock in the afternoon. If his brother set his first alarm for six o’clock, we have nearly a whole day ahead of us.
I try to remember what I conjured up in my imaginings.
“…good, strong coffee, of course. Then I’d take a nice, long shower, in one of those huge luxury bathrooms with pretty white candles all lit up, scented soaps and lotion and fluffytowels and maybe soft strains of music playing in the bathroom…”
Ah, there it is. On the bottom shelf below the towels, there’s a silver basket filled with amber bottles and scented soaps next to washcloths as delicate and cushy as clouds.
Step one. Nice, long shower.
I washed my hair the night before, so this one’s nothing but luxury wrapped in rose-scented soap and steam. He did tell me to get back to bed, though, so when I remember, I finish up, slather lotion all over my body, then scurry back to bed and dive under the covers.
I don’t remember the last time I felt so pampered. I’m not sure if I’veeverfelt so pampered.
A part of me feels as if I don’t deserve this. I didn’t earn this the hard way. My sister’s back home and though I make sure she’s well provided for, she isn’t living in the lap of luxury like this.
She will,I promise myself.She will.
Fabien’s still on the phone as I half doze, half dream in the comfort of the bed. I reach for my phone and realize I forgot to plug it in last night. I turn to go fetch it and see it next to me sitting on a wireless charger.
I point to Fabien, then point to the phone. He nods.
He remembered to charge my phone?
He’s too much.
If something seems too good?—
There’s a knock at the door and I look over at Fabien. He points a finger at me, his phone still up to his ear. “Stay there.”
If breakfast in bed’s up next, wild horses couldn’t drag me from here.
I nod and sit up, covering myself with the duvet. My suspicion’s confirmed with the strong, inviting smell of coffee and pastries. My stomach aches.
“Oh my goodness, I’m starving,” I whisper as he approaches me with a large silver tray.
“Good. You’ll need your appetite for the day I have planned for you.”
I watch him prepare my coffee, then hand it to me before he nestles a wooden bed tray across my lap.
“I’d think you’re buttering me up for sex, but you already know how to play that angle,” I whisper, since he’s still on the phone and I’m about to take a gigantic bite of a croissant the size of my head.
