CHERILICIOUS SWEET

8. A DAY OUT

The following morning, by routine now, I was up at 6:30 AM to shower, shave, lotion, take my pills, and makeup my face. I had no idea what kind of outfit Ms. Peterson was going to provide for me, but I assumed it would be a shade of pink, so I did the smokey eye makeup with the pink and light blue accents.

At 1 PM she texted me that she was on her way home from the gym and would need a few minutes to freshen up afterward. She told me to wear the clear heels, nude pantyhose, and of course the dance skirt and t-shirt, which is pretty much how I had dressed anyway.

Ms. Peterson came to her door wearing powder blue capri length chinos, matching powder blue 3-inch sandals, and a white top with lace trim, looking perfect as always. She handed me a pink sequin, fitted mini skirt. I anticipated right with the color. It was snug and went about halfway down my thigh. "This is the sort of skirt we'll be looking for today." She mentioned, as she handed it to me. With that she gave me a white top, cropped at the bottom, with three quarter sleeves, and it had a pink silhouette of a female form sitting down, reminding me of what you'd see on the mudflaps of a pickup truck, and then something in French cursive beneath it. "This," she said, "is not what we will be looking for. You won't be wearing cottony things like this anymore, only satin, lace, and sheer materials. I do love the image though, it's good advertising for you."

Advertising? What's that supposed to mean? I thought as I changed into the outfit.

On the car ride there, I was sitting properly as I had been trained, and Ms. Peterson commended me, which made me feel good. What is going on? I was starting to really soften up. Then she looked at my legs, and said, "Oh Cheri!" she still loved to accentuate that name. "I know that I told you that under all circumstances you will be wearing hosiery, but today I forgot, we're going to the nail salon first for a mani and pedi. So you'll need to take them off dear."

"Mani and pedi?" I asked, ignorantly.

"Yes dear. Mani and pedi. Getting our nails done."

"Ohhh." Ugh. I started to remove the pantyhose. Ms. Peterson stopped me, saying that when we get into the salon, I was to ask for a changing room where I could take them off there.

The salon was in a strip mall across from the mall where we'd be shopping. I did as Ms. Peterson instructed, slipped out of the pantyhose in a restroom, and then was led to my chair next to her. She was talking to the woman who would tend to me and giving her instructions no doubt. I got a foot massage which felt fantastic! Especially after dancing around as Cinderella the day before. Afterward one manicurist worked on my toes, and another on my fingers.

Ms. Peterson asked if there was anything I wanted to talk about.

The manicurists were chatting away with each other in Vietnamese.

Something had been nagging me. Meekly, I said, "Yeah, um, so, Scott and Ricardo um mentioned that I was paying for them to help out last week, but how can that be? Was that just to make them feel better about taking money from you?"

Ms. Peterson, very matter of factly said, "No. It wasn't to make them feel better. You are paying for it."

"But I don't understand how that could be Ms. Peterson."

"Cheri, do you think all of this," she said waving her free hand up and down my body, "is all charity from me?"

I shrugged. I hadn't thought about it before.

"I am investing a LOT of time, energy, and money into all of this dear, and it does not come free. It all simply gets added to the original spreadsheet as your debt to me."