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Oh. Yes. My job. At the bakery. Yes.
Julia wordlessly hands me the full donut box, and I give it to him along with a steaming cup of coffee. The handsome customer pays in cash and deposits twenty dollars in our tip jar. With a smile to me, he leaves, the bell tinkling as he does so.
“Wow,” Julia gasps, fanning herself as I lean against the counter, my eyes wide. “That man was sex on legs.”
I nod, unable to speak. I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be that attractive, but was I ever wrong.
Suddenly, guilt gnaws in my stomach. How could I be thinking about this customer when I have a boyfriend? Sure, Mark is nice looking, but he pales in comparison to the handsome stranger.
“He seemed to like you, Alexis,” Daniela mentions, having watched the whole interaction. “He was definitely flirting.”
“He was not,” I say firmly, feeling nauseous at the thought of inadvertently flirting with someone other than Mark. “He was just a customer making polite conversation with the person standing in the way of his donuts.”
Daniela shares a look with Julia but doesn’t try to argue with me.
Once my shift ends, I take the train back home. The Carters live right outside downtown Chicago, nestled in a neighborhood full of Cape Cod-style homes. I let myself into the empty house and hurry to the basement that is my room.
Dennis and Suzanne are at work, and I have no idea where Emma—my foster sister—is. I like it this way as I can get ready in my own time.
Looking in the mirror, I quickly fluff out my curly hair, huffing as an errant piece falls into my eye. Although Mark and I don’t have plans that I know of, I’m going to surprise him at his apartment.
Putting on my sexiest dress, I apply some red lipstick and darken my eye makeup for a more smoldering look. Shivering, I grab a coat and put it on, hugging myself for warmth.
The Carters were nice enough to let me stay in their home, but once I turned eighteen and my social worker stopped visiting me, I was forced to move out of Emma’s room and into the basement.
Even though the basement is cold, drafty, and small, I’m grateful I have my own space and don’t have to worry about Emma stealing my clothes or hiding my blankets.
Slipping on my heels, I put Mark’s gift in my bag. Even though Dennis and Suzanne take half of my income, I’ve still been able to scrimp and save enough to buy Mark a beautiful new watch with our anniversary date engraved on the back.
But I have an even more important gift to give him.
Myself.
My virginity has always been a touchy subject. Mark’s touched me in more ways than I was comfortable with, but I’ve resisted. Call me old-fashioned, but I’ve always wanted my first time to be with someone I truly care about and will marry.
But since I know Mark is going to propose to me, I’ve decided this will be another present for him.
I can’t wait to see his face.
I hope it doesn’t hurt.
My face warms at the thought of Mark touching me intimately, and I squeeze my legs together as my heart pounds.
I really hope Mark will be gentle with me. Sometimes, he grabs me too hard or squeezes my arms or face too tightly. Those bruises are hard to explain away when I’m at work.
The cold wind bites at my face and legs, and I shiver as I take the train to Mark’s apartment. I really should have worn tights, but Mark likes it when I go bare legged.
I can feel the leers from other men, and I try to tuck my legs underneath my seat, but all it does is hike my dress up even more.
Mark picked this dress out for me and told me I had to buy it, even though I didn’t want to. It was a very expensive dress and was more than I normally could afford.
But I bought it anyway because Mark said that’s the type of dress he likes his woman to wear.
Honestly, the style reminded me more of what Emma would wear. My sister loves to wear tight, revealing clothes to show off her figure. I can understand why—Emma is a Pilates instructor and works out constantly. Her body is incredible.
“You meetin’ someone, hot stuff?”
Hot breath touches my ear, and I instantly jerk away as a man sits close to me, eyeing me like I’m his last meal.
