BEE🐝 Sugar Baby

9

This is harder than I imagined.

To maintain Scarlett's image, I get out of his penthouse in another designer skirt suit and a pair of Louboutin with matching Hermes Kelly. My hair as instructed by Drey, is kept in a low bun.

"Scarlett will always wear a suit to work, be it a pantsuit or a skirt suit. Bag, always Hermes either a Birkin or a Kelly. Shoes, make sure they're at least four inches high. Hair, in a bun. A professional bun, very much different than a formal dinner bun. And lastly, red lipstick."

I am struggling over here to take off this pencil skirt and replace it with a pair of slacks. My slacks. Because it'd be weird to wear a headscarf with a skirt that stops a little over the knee. God, it's so hard to have double personalities.

Once I'm done with my pants, I put on my hijab to cover my blonde hair. Then I swipe the red color off my lips and use my usual nude lipstick. Lastly, I replace the Louboutin with my Salvatore Ferragamo flats, the one I always opt for work.

I walk out of the restroom looking totally different than the way I went in twenty minutes ago. Thanks to my extensive research, I've located this four star hotel and decided it would be the perfect pit stop to change my clothes since it's a short walk from the penthouse and on my way to the office.

"How's last night, Sweetheart? Honey is nice, isn't he?"

"Ohhh he's not just nice, he's sexy too, Drey. And he smells nice." Wait, am I weird to point out about him smelling nice?

After a quick update with my trainer during my lunch break, I went for my Zuhr prayer and eat my sandwich before going back to work. At 5.30pm on the dot, I drag my feet back to the hotel to change into Scarlett; remove my pants, replace it with the skirt, hide the shawl in my bag, and style my hair into a bun again. Red lipstick, Louboutin on, and off we go!

It feels like a hassle, to dress up and all just for a quick show to the staffs at the lobby because when I arrive at the penthouse, Honey isn't home yet.

I take the little time I have to rush upstairs and dress for the dinner that will start in an hour. I believe Honey will be home around 7, just like yesterday, since my working hour officially starts at that time on a weekday.

***

Drey was being generous by giving me three choices for tonight's outfit; a mermaid spaghetti strap sequin dress, an off-shoulder red dress with a high slit, or a long sleeve black dress that has a boat neck -I was so happy he finally made a mental note on my requests about having more halal options until that motherfucker asked me to turn the dress- with open back that needs me to either be bra-less or wear the U plunge bra.

I was already running out of time but he had to make it more difficult by asking me to choose one of the dresses in two minutes since he needed to plan the hairstyle and make up that will suit the dress, along with a matching clutch and shoes. And jewellery.

I swear when I meet him in person I'll give that asshole more than what I've cursed him during our video call. 

"Vodka Martini," without asking me first, he straightaway orders Scarlett's favorite cocktail once we hit the bar while waiting to be seated.

I'm very much prepared to throw the one excuse I've had in mind in case I'm faced with this kinda situation but when he continued, "Macallan," I had to choke myself from uttering a word, not wanting to interrupt him with the bartender, "Neat."

By then it's too late because the man in the uniform has gone to make our drinks. Shit.

"Gunn." A voice makes both of us turn to the back, only to see an older man dressed in a similar formal wear walking towards us.

No wonder Drey was adamant about me dressing up for tonight's dinner, because everybody seems to be in suits and evening wear.

"Mrs Gunn," he gives a half nod, acknowledging me before his own acquaintance. I smile at him and nod the same, only then he turns to Honey and converses with him.

I can't help but to wonder, how similar are we that all these people, without any hesitation, straight away call us Mrs Gunn even on our first meeting? Or everybody is as mental as Honey?

"Erm," I hesitate when the bartender puts two drinks in front of us.

"Yes Mrs Gunn?"

I look to my left to make sure Honey is still talking business with Mr Cuckoo 2.0, then turn to the bartender, whispering, "Can you change this to another Vodka Martini?"

He is puzzled by the request, eyeing the drink that has olives in it before looking at me again, probably confused as to why I asked him that when the drink looks just fine. To which I whisper again, "Another Vodka Martini, minus the Vodka."

"Minus the...?"

"No alcohol." I really have to spell it to him.

"So just the olives?"

I shake my head and lean in further, "Change it to anything that look like it. Water or something."

He still has that puzzled look but he nods anyway, and grabs the drink he prepared earlier before leaving to make my non-alcoholic Vodka Martini. Phew.

"Your table is ready, Mr Gunn," the hostess comes and tells Honey, making Mr Cuckoo 2.0 steps backward to allow him to stand up.

"Shall we?" He holds out his hand to me and I gladly take it considering I need all the help to balance myself once I step on the floor again. The heels of this Miu Mu pair is so thin I'm afraid I'd tarnish Scarlett's image by falling in front of these rich people.

"We'll bring the drinks to your table, Mr Gunn." The hostess tells him as he parks his palm on my bare back, steadying me from my wobbly landing.

My heart stops beating feeling the electric zapp when his cold palm is in contact with my skin. I knew this would be the wrong decision to wear this bare back dress but I really didn't have a choice.

It's either revealing my boobs, entire legs, or my back. I chose the latter simply because I thought there was nothing arousing about having my flat back on display.

Clearly I was wrong. Because this is somewhat arousing me.