A well-suited doorman greets us as we approach the gated home. Giving him the name of our destination, he allows us to push on with just a nod.
In the span of a hundred yards, I can sense Anna's heavy examination. The air is congested with emotion. "Even though you suck, I do happen to love that dress on you," she sighs diverting her eyes to the right.
I smile and follow her eyes. The grounds are immaculate, the driveway overlooking a stunning courtyard. More like something one would see in the movies. Shade loving plants like the ones mom always planted define the area protected by the large trees towering above. Insides flutter with appreciation and longing. My eyes grow as we approach the double doors that slowly opened with a big man, wearing the same suit as the one at the gate, in invitation. I don't think I'd argue with this man. His muscles fill every thread of the fabric contoured to his body. His expressionless face combined with the clean shaved head accentuates his scary, as in don't ever find yourself alone in a dark alley with this man, kind of look. Apprehensively, I cross the threshold. He smiles revealing charming dimples. Dimples! Now he just looks like a big 'ol teddy bear. First impressions can be deceiving. The shoes Anna picked out feel as though their a mile high and I find myself thankful for his hand.
I stop in the two story foyer ogling the exquisite art. The crowd oblivious to our arrival. Anna relinks her arm with mine and pulls us further inside. A prominent cello orchestral instrument mingles with chatter. Beautiful women in short cocktail dresses, men fashioned in expensive suits with starched shirts flutter about. Suddenly feeling exposed, I begin to fidget with my necklace. Anything to feel comfortable in my own skin. An elbow to my ribs, I cut my eyes to the subject of the assault. She mouths, "Stop it," her eyes drop to my neck.
Returning my focus on the beautiful people, the atmosphere is a bit magical. Recessed lighting and large framed windows are everywhere. To my left is a wide set of stairs leading down to what I presume is another floor. Next to it is a kitchen fashioned with sparkling top of the line appliances. In front of me appears to be the dining area. A miniature bar, still dressed as the rest, separates it from the serving area. Who on earth does Anna know that lives here? I want to tell whoever it is how appealing and breathtaking their home is. A masterpiece of art.
A gentleman steps forward, a steady hand on a tray of flutes bubbling within. Bound on a spree of sheer relief, I reach for one of the stemwares and bring it to my lips before waiting on Anna to get hers. Emptying with gladness, the liquid a blunt welcome quickly dissolves the raw ache in the pit of my stomach. With enough time to place my empty glass down before the gentleman leaves, I grab another and thank him. Grasping the flute, I turn to Anna and wait wanting to nurse this one.
Raising the glass to my lips, the annoyingly familiar voice pings from behind. Anna and I whip around. "Now, now Ms. Mackle don't be drinking yourself into a stupor this evening. How would that look for me to have an assistant who cannot handle her alcohol?" Anna's boss says condescendingly shaking her angled bob.
"Shouldn't you be brown nosing someone?" Anna retorts holding her head high. I try to hide my snicker behind my flute.
"Funny, Anna. Always trying out that simple mind of yours, aren't you?" I freeze in shock at their rapport. Something catches her attention and she turns away. "Oh, Senator Keen, it's so nice to see you." I watch Anna's jaw clench as her boss walks off and pray she'll keep biting her tongue.
"I'm going to saran wrap her toilet seat." Anna quips tapping her finger against her glass before downing it.
"Why do you keep working for her when she talks to you like that?" I eye the back of the woman's head.
"I ask myself the same question every day. Hey," she turns eyeing me intently, "do you think I could replace her lip gloss with glue? On the other hand, what about replacing the cream filling of her beloved Oreos with toothpaste? Hmm...," she pauses for a second. "How much jail time do you think I'll get if I-"
YOU ARE READING
Revengeance
Mystery / ThrillerFor the past six years. The images return. They're uninvited. Unwanted. One might think she should expect it by now. But that would mean she's accepted fate. Meredith chooses to live in an illusion. A charade. Deceiving herself from the truth that s...
