By the time Luisa had lost the daylight I was feeling a bit chilled, since the evening had cooled off and I was just sitting there with the breeze blowing across bits of me that weren’t accustomed to much ventilation. Happy to put my sweats back on, I headed down to the master bedroom for a hot shower to warm up.
Angela was relaxing on the bed, lying down on her tummy, playing with her phone.
“Hey, you have a good time shopping today?” I asked.
“Yeah, it was fun,” she replied, but I got the feeling she was just saying that for my benefit.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting on the bed next to her and stroking her bare leg.
“It’s nothing,” Angela said, turning back to look at her phone.
Trying to get her out of her mood, I slid my hand up the inside of her thigh, up under her short skirt. She wiggled her butt side to side, as if trying to shake my hand loose, but she didn’t squeeze her legs shut on my hand, so I figured I wasn’t really trespassing. Slowly, my hand made it all the way up, and soon enough I was gently stroking the lacy material where Angela’s legs came together.
“Leah,” Angela said, and it sounded like a complaint.
“More? Or less?” I asked.
Angela sighed and said, “I like it, but I just want to be grumpy for a little while. I’m sorry.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “I can understand wanting to sulk sometimes. If you need to talk, I’m happy to listen.” That said, I kicked off my zoris and ditched the hoodie, then slid the sweatpants off and kicked them to the side. “I’m gonna take a shower to warm up,” I announced, heading for the bathroom.
“Warm up? You already look pretty hot to me,” Angela said, and I could hear the grin on her voice.
“Thanks!” I replied, giving my hips a bit of an exaggerated swing as I walked.
Finding the bedroom empty after my shower, I threw on some clothes and went looking for Emmy. To my complete lack of surprise, she was up in her new studio, sitting at the controls in the production room.
“Hey, babe,” I said, giving her a kiss. “It seems as if this little studio is working out for you.”
“It is,” Emmy agreed. “I am very pleased. It would be a bit tight with a full band, but it is perfect for me.”
“Does this make you even more excited for the studio in LA?”
Emmy got a dreamy look on her face, her vivid green eyes turning wistful. “It will be so magical…”
Laughing, I said, “I guess that’s a yes.”
“Yes, it is a yes,” Emmy said with her sparkling, musical laugh. “I am trying to be patient, but it is so difficult!”
“I’m looking forward to our new place, too. It’s gonna have quite a task at hand to measure up to this place, though.”
“This townhouse is very nice, isn’t it?” Emmy agreed.
Lost in our respective thoughts, neither of us had anything to say for a little while.
“Hey, did you ever wind up making plans for dinner tonight?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“When I mentioned it to Luisa, she said that she had been planning on cooking tonight.”
“That works for me,” I said. “It’d be nice to have a mellow night at home.” Then, remembering what I’d meant to tell her, I said, “Em, you should talk to Mia tonight. She has some security camera video you should look at.”
“What is the matter?”
“Maybe some Night Children. Watch the videos.”
“Now I am very curious,” Emmy said.
“On a completely different note, did Angela seem O.K. When you guys were shopping?” I asked.
“Yes?” Emmy replied, but it came out more as a question than a concrete answer.
“She just seemed down earlier,” I explained. “I wondered if something happened while you guys were out.”
“I do not think so,” Emmy said, a thoughtful look on her face. “She seemed to have a good time.”
We ate dinner in our formal dining room for the first time that night. Thankfully, it was no longer the neo-Versailles monstrosity that the previous owner had left us, but it did still have seating at the long table for fourteen people. The five of us sat at one end of the table and just ignored the other two thirds of its length, so it really wasn’t too strange at all.
Luisa had made a wonderful marinaded salmon with lentils on the side, which everybody seemed to love. For dessert, she’d whipped up some poached apricots, which contrasted wonderfully with the earthy, salty lentil dish.
“This is very good, Luisa,” Emmy said. “Thank you for making dinner tonight.”
“So, is this better than my grilled cheese?” Mia asked me.
“That grilled cheese sandwich was good,” I said. “But you didn’t make dessert, so I’m giving this one to Luisa.”
“Aww, dang,” Mia said with an exaggerated downcast look on her face.
“But I’m willing to give you strong runner-up points,” I added. Then, seeing the looks of puzzlement we got from the others, I explained that Mia had made lunch. “And it really was an excellent grilled cheese sandwich.”
After dinner, we retired to the parlor, where Luisa slid behind the bar to mix us up some drinks.
“Can I have that drink they always talk about on ‘Sex In The City’?” Angela asked.
“That’s a Cosmopolitan,” Luisa said. “No problem.”
I went for a Manhattan, which seemed appropriate. Emmy opted for some white wine, and Mia a beer. The beer, I was surprised to note, was on tap.
“We have three local microbrews on tap,” Luisa said when I asked. “The bar was already set up for it, so I just went ahead and got some pony kegs.”
“I can’t believe this is all real,” Angela said, putting her feet up on the ottoman. “This is like a dream.”
“This is not how I expected my first job after the Marines would go, that’s for sure,” Mia agreed.
We spent the next hour or two just chatting, talking about nothing much in particular, and it seemed to me that whatever had been bothering Angela earlier had been forgotten.
Eventually, Emmy went downstairs with Mia to watch the security footage and Luisa went to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, leaving Angela and I alone. We finished our drinks, setting the glassware on the bar for Luisa to wash and put away in the morning. I felt slightly guilty about not doing it ourselves, but reasoned that it was, in fact, Luisa’s job.
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“Can we, um, take a bath?” Angela asked when we got back up to the master bedroom. “Together?”
“I’d love to,” I replied. “Why don’t you get it started?” While she did that, I checked my email to see if there was anything pressing. Thankfully there was nothing I couldn’t ignore, so I stripped down and wandered into the bathroom. The sight of Angela in the nude, bending over to light the scented candles near the tub, was enough to get certain parts of me hot and bothered.
“Is the bath ready?” I asked as I stepped up beside her, resting my hand on her hip.
“Almost,” Angela replied, straightening up. Angela’s face always showed exactly what she was feeling, and in that moment it was a mixture of doubt, sadness, and at the same time, maybe some hope.
I took her hand and stepped into the claw-footed tub, helping her settle in after me. Unlike bathing with Emmy, the water wasn’t near boiling, so getting in wasn’t a slow, scalding process. Angela did lie back against me in Emmy’s favorite position, though. Thinking about it, I realized that it was sort of the default for how two people could fit into a bathtub, so maybe it wasn’t actually Emmy’s favorite, just the easiest.
Angela used her cupped hands to pour water on her chest, enjoying the bath. I kept quiet, since it was obvious that Angela had requested this time together to talk. I figured that giving her the time to get her thoughts together was the best I could do to encourage her. I held her in my arms, gently stroking her sides.
“I can see why you and Emmy like this so much,” Angela finally said, her voice soft. “This is really nice, just relaxing like this.”
“It is,” I agreed, kissing the top of her head.
It seemed as if Angela was just about to say what was on her mind when Emmy came in. “There you two are!” she said. Sitting on the edge of the tub, Emmy ran her hand through the water. “Do you mind if I stay up and record some more tonight?” She asked.
Figuring that she was giving Angela and me room to talk, I said, “No, I’m fine with it, if Angela doesn’t mind.”
Surprised I put the ball in her court, Angela said, “No, I don’t mind.”
“I will be quiet when I come to bed,” Emmy assured us with a smile, and she was off.
After a while, I wrapped Angela up in a hug and said, “Hey, Ange, I’m about ready for bed.”
“O.K.,” she agreed, and climbed out.
She started drying off, but I stopped her. “Let me,” I said, so she put her towel aside and let me do it. It wasn’t really an attempt to be erotic, so much as just showing Angela that I enjoyed lavishing attention on her. She returned the favor, laughing at how silly but fun the whole process had become.
“Do you do this with Emmy?”
“Every chance I get,” I confirmed.
The moment we climbed into bed, Angela started kissing and rubbing up against me. “Ange,” I said, holding her still for a moment. “I’m kinda not in the mood for sex right now.”
“Oh- sorry,” she said, and made to move over to the other side of the bed, but I held her tight.
“I am in the mood to cuddle, though,” I said, and kissed her hair. I pulled her in against my side, and she rested her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arm around my tummy.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, but eventually Angela spoke.
“Am I sexually attractive to you?” Angela asked.
“Very,” I replied, and it was the truth.
“But you don’t want to have sex tonight?”
“No, not tonight,” I agreed. “I just want to hold you, that’s all.”
“But in general you do?”
“In general, yes, I find you very sexually appealing, and in general, I want to rock your world until you can’t walk straight,” I said, which got a little chuckle.
“I want to be your little sex toy,” Angela said, her voice quiet. “Yours and Emmy’s.”
“Have you and Emmy had sex without me yet?” I asked, curious.
“We’ve made out a couple of times, but that’s it so far,” Angela said. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not,” I answered, and it was true. “I was hoping you two would have had a chance to make love.”
“Leah?” Angela began, somehow making my name into a question.
“Yeah?”
“I want to be your sex toy. I want you to use me. I want your hand up my skirt. I want you to kiss me, all hot, with tongue and everything. I want…” she trailed off, not sure how to say what she was feeling.
“By some coincidence,” I said, my tone light, “I want you to be my sex toy, too. I want my hand up your skirt. I want to kiss you, deeply, with tongue.” Turning more serious, I continued. “But I also want to make you smile, to hear your laugh. I want to take relaxing baths with you. I want to hold you in my arms like this, and talk about what our days were like. I want to take pictures of you for your social media. I want to watch you working out in the gym, imagining you naked.”
Laughing softly, Angela slid her hand up and cupped my breast. “I already imagine you naked in the gym.”
“You naughty little minx!” I replied. “Just for that, I’m going to imagine you twice as naked, working out in the gym.”
“You know, with the gym you have here in the house, you don’t have to imagine it,” Angela said, her tone saucy. “I’m going to do my workout tomorrow completely naked, just for you.”
“You’re not going to get much done as far as lifting weights goes, if that’s the case. But I’ll definitely give you one hell of a workout.”
“It’s a deal,” Angela said, still playing with my boob.
We grew quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts, until Angela spoke again.
“Leah, how do you do it?”
“I’ll show you, once you lay back on that weight bench,” I said, intentionally misunderstanding the question.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Angela said, playfully pinching my nipple.
“What exactly do you mean?” I asked, just for clarification.
“You don’t come from a rich family, right? I mean, not like Emmy’s.”
“That’s right,” I said. “We never had all that much money.”
“Emmy took me to a lingerie boutique. This is after she spent fifty thousand dollars at the music store. Oh, and you’re right- the moment she walks in to one of those places, it’s like the Pope walking into a local church. Everybody falls to their knees and kisses the hem of her skirt,” Angela said wryly. “Anyway, we went to this really, I mean really, fancy lingerie boutique. So, I’m looking at the bras, right? None of them have prices on them. I’m looking at this one bra, and it’s seriously the nicest bra I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s so beautiful…” Angela said, her voice trailing off with the memory.
“Anyhow, I show it to Emmy. She asks if I like it, and I say yes. She tells the sales lady to find my size, and buys me one in each of the three colors, with the matching panties. I’m thinking this is sort of an expensive thing for her to buy me, right? Probably three hundred dollars, maybe a little more, even?” She went on. “But I saw the receipt. Leah, it was over two thousand dollars. Those bras were four hundred dollars each. The panties were three hundred dollars. Each, Leah. Each.”
“Must be nice panties,” I ventured.
“They are really, really nice panties,” Angela agreed. “I’ve never owned anything like them in my life. They’re like wearing air.”
“So, where’s the problem?” I asked.
“It’s just too much,” Angela sighed. “I wouldn’t have accepted when Emmy asked me if I wanted them, if I knew how much money it was.”
“Emmy has a different attitude about money,” I said, kissing Angela’s hair. “To her, the price has nothing to do with anything. It simply isn’t a factor in any decision she makes. To her, that two thousand dollars is the same as the three hundred dollars you imagined, or two dollars to buy you a Coke from a vending machine. To her, it’s the gift that matters. She saw that you liked the bra, she wanted you to be happy, so she got them for you.”
“I guess,” Angela said. “It’s just…”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, pulling Angela up for a kiss. “Just accept it as part of who she is,” I said.
“I guess,” Angela replied.
“Ange,” I said, rolling on my side to look her in the face. “Would you be bothered by it if she bought you a T shirt that says ‘I heart NY’?”
Thinking about it, Angela said, “No?”
“Even thought that T shirt is probably twenty, twenty-five dollars?”
“No,” Angela replied, a little more sure of herself.
“To Emmy, it’s the same. It’s a gift she got you, because she thought you’d like it. The price tag means nothing to her, whether it’s a twenty dollar T shirt or a four hundred dollar bra. It’s all exactly the same.”
“When you explain it like that, I guess it makes sense…”
“I don’t know how much money Em’s parents actually have. I’m not sure it could actually be measured. I mean, the family has its own castle, and has had its little duchy, or fiefdom, or whatever it is, for over a thousand years. When people talk about ‘old money’, they mean new rich compared to the De Lascaux family. This is how Emmy grew up. This is the way she thinks. Do you know what her parents bought me for my last birthday? A half-million dollar race car. Half a million dollars, for a car I’ll drive a couple dozen times a year, if I'm lucky. They knew I liked driving fast, so they thought it would be a nice thing to get me.”
“The one on display at the dealership?”
“Yeah. Five hundred thousand dollars. For a birthday present.”
“It’s a different world,” Angela sighed.
“But babe,” I said, lifting her chin so she would look me in the eyes. “If you’re going to be part of our family, this is your world, now.”
Angela was silent for a bit, thinking about it. “I want to keep working,” she finally said, sitting up on her heels and facing me. “I want to keep modeling, keep influencing. I don’t want to stop doing that stuff.”
“I want you to keep working,” I said, stroking her leg. “I want you to have your own life, too. I don’t want you to stop any of that.”
“Don’t pay for my car,” Angela said, poking me in the chest to make her point. “I’m O.K. with you and Emmy buying me things, but don’t think that makes any difference to how I feel, alright?” She said, her voice getting more forceful.
“I didn’t think it did,” I agreed.
“I need to talk to Emmy,” Angela announced, climbing out of bed.
“Um, O.K.,” I said as she left the bedroom, presumably to go up to the studio. To talk to Emmy. Naked. Which, to be fair, is a great way to talk to Emmy, I’ve found.
Wondering idly if Angela was going to realize she had nothing on and there were other people in the house besides just her, Emmy and me, I thought about the conversation we’d just had. It seemed to me that it put to bed the thoughts that Angela was just in it for the money, as Emmy had feared she might be.