Page 61 of Miss Trust

Humor laced his words. “Prolonging the pleasure.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Wait. No, you’re not. Don’t you know patience is worth it?”

The vibrator started buzzing again, much to my relief. “Patience is not something I have time for.”

“If I were there, you’d be begging for it by the time I gave it to you.”

The thought was appealing.

Suddenly, through my haze of lust, I picked up on a muffled conversation. “Are you talking to someone else?” I was all for multitasking, but this was another level.

“Sorry, gorgeous, there’s an urgent issue at the club I have to attend to, so I’ve put the vibrator on manual operation. You’re in the driver’s seat now.”

My inner girl was smiling at the way he called me gorgeous. The woman in me, however, was highly annoyed he wasn’t finishing what he’d started. “Fine, I’ll let you go.”

Click. I silenced the phone before he could reply. Dammit, why was the thought of masturbating dull now? Wasn’t the entire point to do it on my own?

* * *

The next morningI needed three cups of coffee to make up for my restless night. I’d never let Chance know it, but he’d gotten under my skin. Made me wish he’d called back or even come home last night. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on my vacillating mood, he hadn’t.

Today was my first appointment with his interior designer. A woman by the name of Lorna Valentine showed up thirty minutes late. She exited her white BMW, dressed in a fashionable skirt suit with red-bottomed shoes. When I attempted to greet her, she’d pointed to the Bluetooth in her ear to indicate she was on the phone.

So did I stay put? Did I go inside? I found myself waiting to take my cue, and in the meantime inadvertently listening to her conversation.

“I don’t care if you’re booked, Rafael. I can’t let these roots see another morning. It’s obscene.”

My eyes flicked to the non-existent roots in her bleached blond hair.

“Thank you, Raf. I’ll be sure to post you and your salon on my Insta afterwards. See you tomorrow morning. Mwuah.”

Lorna finally focused her attention on me. “Hello. I’m here to see a—” She consulted her phone. “A Victoria Larson.”

“I’m Victoria.”

Her eyes raked down my body as if she found my dark jeans and long-sleeved top offensive. “I’m Lorna Valentine.”

“Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand, which she promptly ignored and walked past. Taking a deep breath before following her inside, I cooled my temper. Lorna wouldn’t be the first person to look down her nose at me. She was all glamour and polish, not a root to be found, while I was thrift-store clothes and a messy bun. But I did have a job to do.

“Now then, let’s start with a tour.” She proceeded to scrutinize the walls, the floors, and everything in between on our way through the house, making notes on her electronic device.

“I think this entire place needs to be gutted. We have to take the roof off and get some more ceiling space, install skylights.”

Seemed extreme.

“Mommy, Mommy,” came a voice from the patio. Penny and Mona came into the living room from the pool where Penny had been taking a swim lesson. She was all wrapped up in her towel and giving me a toothy grin. “I can swim all by myself now.”

Lorna appeared as if a large insect had exhibited the nerve to crawl across the top of her expensive, red-bottomed shoe.

“I’m so proud of you. I’m working right now, but I want to hear all about it when I’m done.”

Penny beamed. “Okay. Hi,” she greeted Lorna.

“Hi. Can we see the pool house now?”

I gave an apologetic smile towards my daughter, as if to say, sorry, some people are assholes. “Certainly.” The sooner Lorna saw the pool house, the faster she’d leave.