Now they're starting to look at each other.
"And since when do we as a people start tearing down love and start celebrating betrayal?" I ask aloud.
Now the people are looking at me with puzzlement. And here it comes.
"Let me tell you what it is that I make, because I don't make just your average sex toy," I say into the microphone and smile. Here it comes.
"My sex toys can do a number of things. They can track what you're reading on the Kindle or any other e-reader. They can sense what web page your visiting on your tablet. All this is designed so that they can stimulate you at the appropriate times and you don't have to," I explain.
"One of the things they can do if someone is so inclined, is to record sounds," I say and take a pause. "At first, I put in the functionality in case you want to ever hear yourself moan after you cum."
People are starting to squirm now. I'm talking about sex. Oh no. What kind of lady does that in public?
Fuck that.
As you can tell, this whole thing with Drake and Sloan has gotten me to the point where I am just done.
Seriously, I don't have any more fucks left to give.
Which is why I bring the hammer down hard.
"Let's just suppose that I was wearing such a toy—a bullet, actually—on a certain occasion when my mother came to visit me in my apartment," I say, and reach into my pocket and retrieve the tiny appliance.
"And let's just say that it was set to record any sort of sounds or speech that occurred near me," I say with a mischievous smile.
There's no more need to say anything. I push a button on my phone and hold the bullet close to the microphone. There's a few seconds of static and then you can hear some rustling.
I fast forward to the point where I need to be.
You can now hear my mother's voice.
"Honestly, Natalie, I'm warning you," she says out loud. You remember this part right?
"If you don't get out of this filthy sex toy business, you're not going to be considered my daughter any longer," she screeches.
"And so what?" I shout back from the recording. "It's not like you were ever a mother to me!"
There's a sound of a slap.
"You ungrateful little bitch!" you can hear the yelling. "You better watch your back, baby girl. Because I'm about to destroy both you, your stepdad, and your stepbrother."
This is where I had drawn my breath at the anger in her eyes.
"I'll make the world hate you! To the point where they close your business down for you! And by the time I'm done destroying the three of you, they'll be wanting to make me a saint for putting up with you," Mom says. I'm lucky she was talking directly at me.
"You wouldn't," I say, shocked. "Not to your own family."
"I hate all three of you," she says. "And with the reporters I have in my payroll, you're going to watch Sloane and Drake suffer."
The sound of a door slamming shut comes out. That's where Mom left.
I turn off the bullet.
"Are you sure you're upset at the wrong people?" I ask with a smile.
There's a moment. A very brief moment of quiet.
And then ... chaos.