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I try to look like I’m considering it, but the pained look on my face is too obvious to miss. All three women laugh and dive back into the racks.
At least someone is enjoying Arsen’s gesture.
“Where is he taking you?” Evelyn pulls out a shimmery ball gown along with a striped sundress, taking turns holding each up to my body.
“I wish I knew. He didn’t say.”
If he did, I was a little too busy lying in the middle of the floor, resolidifying after an earth-shattering orgasm, to catch the finer details.
Mom’s eyes twinkle. “I think it’s sweet that he wants to take you out.”
Would she think it was equally sweet that the invitation came after he ate me out in the middle of my physical therapy appointment?
I’m gonna guess not. Which is why I shield her from the gorier details of our little arrangement. I sit down, pretending to need a break, while Mom and Evelyn continue hunting for the perfect dress.
Polina joins me, her voice low enough for only me to hear. “You might just enjoy yourself… if you give him a chance.”
“He’s just doing this to keep up appearances. We have to look like a real married couple.”
“Which you are.”
“Legally.”
Polina gives me a coy smile. “You two make a pretty convincing married couple, if you ask me.”
“What can I say? We’re good actors.” I deserve an Oscar for my performance at the studio this morning. He probably thought Iactuallywanted to have sex with him—ha.
He probably thinks he has some kind of control over me. Like, he’ll snap his fingers, and I’ll come running—ha ha.
Or he’ll snap his fingers, and I’ll come… multiple times—ha ha HA.
My cheeks burn, and I nervously run my hands over my bump. “Arsen is an especially good actor.”
Polina pats me on the knee. “You’re good for him, dear. You humanize him in so many ways.”
In which ways? I’d love to know. Nothing about Arsen felt very “human” when he loaded me into his car and drove me home without so much as a word exchanged between us the entire ride. Is the date going to be more of the same?
Maybe I should come down with something sudden and violently contagious between now and then. A nice, chesty cough.
Or leprosy.
“Well, Ms. Barnes…” The boutique owner rises from the corner where she’s been chaperoning all the fancy clothes and walks over to me. “Can I have a list of your choices?”
“Erm…” I shuffle between the options: beached whale, overripe citrus, garish rose bush. “Just the blue dress, I guess.”
“Is that all?” She peers at her assistant with an arched eyebrow.
Evelyn shakes the floral dress at me again, mouthing,“This one.”
The woman waves away her own question. “That’s alright. Mr. Adamov told us to leave behind anything you showed the slightest interest in, so we have our own list.”
“Oh, no. No, that’s okay. It’s really not?—”
“Boss’s orders. Actually, he specifically told us to leave behind ‘whatever stole your attention.’ And whatever was likely to steal his, as well.”
That explains the rack of lingerie and barely-there swimsuits currently being wheeled into my closet.
“If you have any other needs, don’t hesitate to contact us,” she says.
