The Unconventional Mistress

“You want me to park out front boss, for the next fifteen minutes at least?” I checked my watch and gave in to the inevitable. If I spend less than an hour here mom is bound to hear of it, and my life will not be fit to live.

“No thanks Reginald, I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave.” I stepped out of the door he held open for me and fixed my suit jacket back into place before heading towards the open door of the luxury hotel where the event was being held.

I was already bored and I hadn’t even reached the ballroom where the auction and show was about to get started. Never a very promising precursor to anything. I hate boredom more than I hate almost anything else.

The place was packed with the usual suspects. That’s another thing I hate. It’s always the same people at these things. Nothing new, nothing even remotely interesting.

Stephanie

“What’re you doing? The show’s about to start.” I looked at my so-called friend Charlie with the chocolate truffle halfway to my mouth. She looked at me like she really and truly expected me to put down the Godiva goodness. She’s insane.

“Do you know how much these things cost?” I shoved I think it was my third or fourth sweet morsel past my well-painted lips and held still while she primped and poked at me again.

“You sure this thing looks okay? I feel like if I sneeze everything’s going to be on display and you ain’t paying me near enough…”

“Shh, Steph, I told you these people are very particular, keep your voice down.”

She hissed at me like I was a five year old. What is it with friends anyway? She knows very well what kind of personality I am, and yet she invited me here amidst the high society snobs with their fake smiles, and even faker attitudes, and expects me to become someone else in less than an hour.

I keep telling her, and any other of my friends who act this way, if they want that shit they’re gonna have to give me more notice. She caught herself just in time when she saw the storm cloud brewing in my eyes.

“Okay-okay, forget I said anything.”

“That’s more like it. Who came to the rescue when that nitwit chickened out? I told you, didn’t I tell you?” I shook my head and filched another piece of bomb ass candy as I got to my feet.

Charlie, my friend, is some kind of organizer for the rich and clueless. She’s been my friend since I moved to the big city almost five years ago, right out of college and we roomed together for a while.

Our mutual friend, Donna, another roommate at the time was supposed to be here tonight, but begged off at the last minute, leaving poor Charlie in a bind.

I told her that shit would happen, but did she listen to me? Nope! She went ahead and convinced herself that our most conventional friend was going to walk down a runway in her skivvies, showing off her size sixteen ass in front of the rich and artless of Manhattan.

You see, even though we no longer live together, we three have remained close all these years and would bend over backwards to help each other out, especially with our career goals.

Donna, bless her heart, has lofty ideals and can talk herself into anything but when it comes time for the follow through, not so much. And yet she writes the society piece for the hottest magazine and newspaper in the world. Go figure!

I licked melted chocolate off my thumb and eyed that gold box like it had the answers to life’s most pressing questions. In case you were wondering, no, I don’t count calories.

I go by the amount of pleasure I gain from whatever I’ve put in my mouth. That works for me. Pleasure is good, guilt, not so much.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re not going out there with chocolate on your face or worst yet, chewing.” She snatched the box out of my way. This food blocking heifer. Now I know why she’s my only skinny friend.

These bitches would turn me into a serial killer if I had to deal with too much of this shit. One of her is enough. Damn near too much. I don’t know how we’ve remained friends this long. Her lettuce eating ass!

I peeked under my robe one last time to make sure all my bits were well hidden and tucked into the right place in the red silk and lace bra and lacy boy shorts underwear set.

The last thing anyone wants is for one of my triple D’s to get loose in their little million dollar ballroom. They’d probably think it was a blackout.

“You ready? Your set’s next.” I was already bopping to my favorite song in my head. Nothing like the Dog to get my blood pumping and juices flowing.