Mr. Masters (Mr. 1) - Page 37
“Why not? It’s our opening night. Screw it.”
I pick up my drink and take a sip. Heaven in a glass. “Ah, that’s the stuff.” I eye my glass suspiciously. “How much are these babies?”
“More than we can afford, but who cares?” She holds her drink up and we clink our glasses together. “To London.” She smiles proudly.
“To London.” I giggle.
“Tell me everything.” She widens her eyes.
I shake my head and hold up my hand. “You wouldn’t believe the three days I’ve had.”
“Try me.”
“Well, Mr. Masters picks me up, and you saw what he was like…”
“Cranky. Has he got any better?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, but get this... I think he jacked off to my photo.”
Emerson spits out her drink and nearly chokes. “What the fuck?” She then goes into a full on coughing fit as she tries to deal with margarita up her nose.
“He showed me to my room and wouldn’t come in, and then later that night, when I was spying on him—”
She scowls hard. “Wait, what? You were spying on him?” she interrupts.
I put my hands over my face. “Long story, but he’s kind of hot.”
“He’s old, Brell.”
“He’s thirty eight… or nine. I’m not actually sure, to be honest,” I reply dryly.
“Either one is still old.”
I roll my eyes. “Anyway, I was spying on him and I saw him take my photo off the fridge. Then he put his hands down his boxer shorts and played with himself.”
Emerson’s eyes widen, and her mouth falls open.
“Then he took the photo and went upstairs to his bedroom.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’ve still got it.” I giggle, and we clink our glasses together.
We smile at each other as we sip our drinks. This is so much fun.
“Oh my God, tell me about Mark?”
She twists her lips. “He’s okay, I suppose.”
I wince. “Just okay?”
“He’s a bit of a dick, to be honest.” She thinks on it for a moment. “I’ve met a few dicks this week, come to think of it.”
For some reason I get the giggles and hold my glass up in a cheers symbol. “Well, I got fired. Beat that.”
Emerson chokes again. “What?” She begins to drain her glass, and I throw my head back and laugh. “What the hell, Brell?”
I shake my head. "The first morning I'm working, the little boy, Samuel, comes into my room sleepwalking. Mr. Masters then came into my room to get him."
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