Chapter 13: Black Friday

108 9 1
                                    


After breakfast I leave to the car dealership. I'm led to the office of a saleswoman named Amber. She walks in and I wonder if this place is just trying to sell cars to men. Amber is sultry with long dark hair and very slim, except for her large breasts. 

She looks me up and down, which makes me  uncomfortable

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

She looks me up and down, which makes me uncomfortable. "Penelope! I don't know who told you what, but nothing happened between us!" Amber nervously insists.

Trying to keep calm, I ask,"Why don't you tell me what really happened?"

Amber tells me what happened between her and Prince! I politely leave. This explains the strange behavior! And that Basquiat was probably given out of guilt! I'd heard things about Prince womanizing before he met me but I thought those were rumors. 

Does he actually love me? My appendectomy must've been a dream come true for him- I was recovering and he was touring and probably messing around. He was so admirable in my eyes. I believed I'd found someone special. Yeah, right looks like he's another ass. I had become so much more sure of myself and my photography since I met him because I thought he had faith in me. But it feels like a lie now. 

All the memories we created together mean nothing to him. They meant so much to me: the carefree way we met, all the guitar lessons he gave me, quiet time together watching movies at home (whether it was my apartment or Paisley Park), the fun we had at the Kentucky Derby, the time he took me to an album release party early in our relationship, taking that road trip with my dad to a car show I was working at, when joined me in the Hamptons, all the art and photography exhibits we've been to, the night of the first awards show he escorted me to; how in the papers when there's photos of us he got this smug "check out my date" look, if I ever slipped up and insulted myself in front of him he shook his head and glared at me like a strict teacher to let me know it wasn't okay.

 Honestly if Prince hadn't been with me at that gallery opening, I couldn't have gone up Andy Warhol to introduced myself. If I hadn't Nikon wouldn't have seen my picture and hired me. Prince loved looking at the  ads I photographed and would squeal with happiness when one was in the newspaper. I think he's saved every newspaper with one of my ads. I thought my body wasn't "good enough" to satisfy a man in bed but it seemed as though I satisfied Prince often. How could he help build confidence like that then try to tear it down? Is he just a manipulative bastard? This makes me feel not much different than when I was bullied in school and my soul ached daily because it.

 I'm not sure if I'm going to give him an ultimatum or what. No, I'll never be as beautiful as Amber, but I deserve some respect. Lars made me feel used and dirty, but at least he didn't act like I was really important to him. At least I've got enough money to not need to live with him, if it comes to that.

At Paisley Park I park my car and looking at the place, it seems colder than the Minnesota winter wind. With great trepidation, I go inside. Prince hugs me and smiles and says"Tell me about the new car, Baby."

His Royal Badness and the Mistress of Muscle -Vol. 2Where stories live. Discover now