" Good morning mom", my daughter says, kissing my cheek. "Morning cream pie, you slept well?" I reply fixing a stray strand behind her ear. She's dressed in a saint Laurent halterneck pleated mini dress and Bettie wingham diamond stilettos. I love the way she revels in attention and spending money. It keeps me at peace because all the spending might keep her from asking questions.
"Of cause I did, how can I possibly not" she replies. I let out a humoured laugh. We have moved into our new home perched on a 20 acre lakeside land. She has been excited about moving in since I told her about the purchase. " Let's have breakfast, we don't want our head cheerleader to run late", I say leading her to a seat on the white quartz kitchen island.
We engage in small talk from nails, to hair , to boys and her asking for more money which I obviously gave, her over breakfast. She grabs her keys to the BMW i8 I got her when she turned 19. She kisses me goodbye and heads out.
I stare after her with teary eyes. She's grown into a beautiful and influencial young lady. She has chestnut brown hair while mine is auburn, grey eyes while mine are blue. The only resemblance we have is our petite bodies. She also carries herself around the way I do, which I assume is the reason why people never ask about our lack of resemblance of each other. This is a relief because I don't think I'll be able to relive what I went through 18 years 7 months ago inorder to tell the story.
I'm arranging breakfast dishes into the dishwasher when I remember that today is a Tuesday. I like to keep people as far away as possible that's why I don't have a house help. I head to my bedroom to get a shower and into my walk in closet to pick an outfit. I need to wear something that screams rich and gives me an intimidating look, it's a Tuesday after all.
I go for a camel Coco Chanel knee high dress, diamond set necklace and earrings and gold block heels. I apply my make-up close to the naturals. In my 40s, I don't have anything to hide, I know I'm beautiful.
A valet steps up to open my door when I reach the glass and concrete 15 floor Silver stone private law firm building. I get the reaction I intended to as soon as I step into the white walled oval shaped foyer, centered with a rosewood desk. I head straight for the elevators without consulting the receptionist, she doesn't bother with me either.
" The girl loves her job", I say smirking as soon as I make myself comfortable on a couch in his office. He just stares at me with his eyes slightly lingering on my lips before looking away. " Why are you here Kirst?", he asks helplessly. He knows I'm part of the reason why he's running such a successful firm.I retrieve a thick envelope from my Feregamo faux crocodile purse and slide it to him. He stares at it, mouth slightly agape before composing himself. But I didn't miss that reaction, the stars are in my favor. " Listen, it's simple, just make sure nothing of what happened sees the light of this world. You take this money and I keep my life intact. It's a win win". I've been wiring money to him every month of every year for almost two decades. I just decided to give him an in person reminder to keep his end of the pact. I slowly raise my perfectly manicured fingure and seductively move it over my lips. I see him suck in a breath and fidget slightly before he regains his composure. I obviously still know buttons to press. I grab my purse and leave his office with a sway of my hips to torture him some more.
After life dropped that bombshell on me that long ago, I decided I'd never be vulnerable to any situation ever again. I worked myself up to the top by hook and crook. I sucked dick, washed feet and bended into every possible angle and position. It's what this world needs for one to survive, and not having any conscience left after the incident, I did all it demanded.
I cruise in the Bentley Continental GT I got as a gift from a minister. An obvious open invitation for my services one more time. I accepted it, kissed him with a feigned passion and walked out of the cocktail party.
I've had gifts and open invitations since my 'retirement' which I obviously turned down.
I have a dinner to attend at the Harmony hotel in the city outskirts. Earning an invitation is proof that one is still in the top society of the city.
I arrive a little late, my signature always. I catwalk towards the entrance, head held high, with the low glowing lanterns illuminating my skin, I know I'm perfection. I obviously turn heads, earn looks and disrupt conversations. An obvious occurance wherever I go, married men fight to keep from drooling not to upset their wives.
I'm received by the defense minister, Andre, his recent divorce gave him the liberty, who leads me to the dance floor. As we're swaying in rhythm to Eyes closed by Ed Sheeran, he wispers something into my ear.
I could have been on the floor if it weren't for his hand which quickly encircled my waist.
He continues to dance as if he hasn't said something that has me sweating. I'm relieved when he finally walks me off the floor to the applause of the other patrons.
We're kissing, pushing and tugging in his Lincoln limousine twenty minutes later. I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't for the news he just delivered. I needed everything, anything, to get my mind off of it even if it were bad sex with a 54 year old. He sticks his finger into my cunt with his thumb caressing my folds. He adds another, which comes as a surprise, I throw my head back and let out a moan. This can't be because he's good, I've been with him before, maybe it's just been long since I've had sex. I willingly part my legs to give him more access, I push at his hand which is inside me willing him to reach deeper, he complies with a deep throated chuckle. I reach for his pants and pull them off. He gets my unsaid words and it's not long before he's rocking me out of my mind. It's not long before he collapses on top of me either. A disadvantage of doing it with old men. I get dressed and sit up, my skin still flushed. I see him staring hungrily at my lips from my peripheral vision. He knows not to kiss me though, my rules are widely known.
He adjusts in his sit and asks," So, what are you going to do?" "Just drop me off at home please", I reply looking in the mirror adjusting my make up. The last thing I want is for my daughter to be able to tell that I had sex. The drive home is quiet, and it felt unbearably long.
I'm soaking in Laura Mercier ambre vanillé honey bath with a glass of rosé in my hand and the bottle on my bath wine holder.
Andre' s words revisit me, "she's looking for her daughter, she has taken it to the courts", he'd said. Why now, why after 18 years of me trying to make her mine, of trying to embroider myself into her. I've spent too much to lose her.
I'm awakened by Lyyn's voice," Mom, mom", she calls with a panicked voice, shaking me. I slowly open my eyes and hold her hand, "Hey, I'm fine", I reassure her. Her grey eyes looking like a foggy morning from the tears collecting in them. My heart aches at the site of her, how can she not be mine. "I must have fallen asleep when I was taking a bath, don't worry", I say wiping the tears streaming down her pale skin. I wrap a drying towel around myself and escort her to her room. I tuck her in and kiss her goodnight.
I stay up the whole night. I'm worried I'm having insomnia attacks again. Everytime I'm pressured this happens. I should do something about that lady. I have given too much to lose my Lynn now.
As soon as the sunrises, I'm speeding down the alsphat road to the other side of the city. I'm shaking nervously the whole drive, I just upped and drove off without a plan. I try to play music to calm my nerves but it's futile. I can't imagine a life without my Lyyn, I can't imagine her having a life without me, how will she cope when I've spoilt her rotten.
These thoughts gives me a new determination, I'm going to keep her even if it means bending backwards.