Under the Mistletoe

By the time we arrive at the first floor's last wide brown door on the right, I still have no idea what will happen between us, but I know that something will. It all feels rushed right now, and I think I need to sit to decipher this.

"Everything you need is in there. I have some drones that can bring the clothes you want here and deliver them in the morning."

So, he hadn’t needed me to bring the package, after all.

But I had already known that.

"Goodnight, Miss Amador. I'll see you in the morning."

And just like that, I am faced by thinly varnished wood, and soon I step through it, locking the door behind me.Chapter FiveDenueThe hand strikes eight, and the mandated curfew begins.

All through the house, I check for inconsistencies and dust bunnies. I have never needed help to clean this place, and I'm not starting now.

I fluff the pillows and mop the floors. The rooms light up as I vacuum every inch of carpet that I own, and finally, as a last ode to the night, an hour later, I blend in some old 90s music from the tiny black and white kitchen radio with the frothy rush of water from the faucet and swing my hips slightly as I wash the dishes. It's been a while since I hummed.

After logging off my computer, I shut the door and disrobe, promptly taking a light shower before sitting on the bed for a spell.

She's in my house.

It's like terrestrial warmth through the walls reaching out, just thinking about it. On purpose I did not want to bring up the late night chats we have been having to Nellie.

It wouldn't be organic, being that this is the first night she's sleeping over. The first of many nights, I think, if the quarantine is to last more than the holidays.

I assume the Powers That Be don’t want people going out and congregating throughout the holidays. If I’m right, then this current situation could last till New Years’ Eve.

Oh, the possibilities.

Thinking about it causes the most unusual of gleeful expressions to spread across my face as I close my eyes to rest, realizing that tomorrow could be the best Christmas I’ve ever had and that I could be unwrapping the one gift I truly want.NelliePound for pound, drip for drop, the thought echoes and bounces off the walls of my mind as the hot water trickles down my hairless skin.

“This is happening," I whisper to the steamy clouds around me.

Denue was right. There was everything a woman could want in this closet, and a robe hanging by the bathroom door too. Beige. The same color as the apron he was wearing when I got here. It’s not my favorite color, but it has quite the luxurious feel on the back of my thighs.

The bathroom looks like it was built with the design of a woman's needs and comforts in mind. A sort of lounge is at the edge of the wall, to the left of the sliding doors. The walls surrounding it are oval, with a lot of window room within, draped closed.

The bed, on the other side, is large and foamy. It has me thinking of the one in a cabin I once rented for a personal staycation when I was in a mistake of a relationship with a guy named Daryl.

Months of busing tables, apprenticing at garages and faking a smile for tips at the local dive bar called for a well-deserved two-week vacation. I had been planning to lose my virginity to him there, but he got drunk and fell asleep. At the time, I was pissed, but now, I’m so glad that that was how it had played out.

I still can’t believe that I’m going to spend Christmas at my boss' house.

It's a raw kind of danger, isn't it?

Tearful suspense.

Not knowing what could happen at any minute.

He could be watching me through the walls right now, peeping as I take off my panties and rub the cold lather all around my shiny skin.

He could be at the door, listening to every sound I make.

He could be in his bed, jerking off.

Or he could be by his phone, hoping I'll text him first and give him an invite into my quarters, perhaps.

The pillows slump around my neck as I dive deep into the bed. My muscles feel tired, and thoughts fire up and around my mind. The light from the screen burns my eyes for a bit before they adjust.

No text.

It's close to ten, and I'm not that sleepy.

Maybe my mom’s still awake.

Could she be?

She's second on my speed dial, right after the pizza place. It rings four times.

"Darling?"

Her face fills up the screen, with her nose smudging up her camera.

"A little further, mama. Like we practiced. Wipe the camera with your sweater so I can see you better." She does. "Ah, there you are. You're quite the student."