Millie
Just as I feel like my face is going to melt off my skull from embarrassment and arousal, I receive a text from a longtime friend,
Katherine, stating that she’d like to see me for dinner tonight if I’m not too busy with the bakery. At least she understands that I am always busy with the bakery. She’s one of maybe three people in my life who understands how difficult it can be to run a business as she’s recently graduated with her master’s degree in marketing.
Having someone so ambitious in my life is so refreshing after spending so much time with women who didn’t know whether or not they were even going to go in to work one day to the next. She’s good for my motivation, and besides, I have to tell someone about what happened last night.
It’s so out of character for me to have sex with a stranger like that, especially under such strange circumstances. The fact that Viktor is my landlord and he’s started coming around of his own volition just adds layers of intrigue to the situation.
What would a powerful, imposing man like him want with a girl like me? He’s much older than me. There must be some sort of self-assured, rich socialite woman in her thirties who would pique the interest of a man of his caliber. There’s no way he truly sees me as a viable partner. What happened last night was just an extension of his thirst for power and my suggestibility. Nothing more.
Still, I need to talk about it.
That will help me move on from the relentless blushing and stammering that overcomes me when he’s around. Plus, I need someone to pull me back into reality before I sleep too deep into my fantasies. Something like this would never work out.
I agree to meet Katherine at one of our favorite sushi restaurants downtown. I never get to go out much, so having the opportunity to wear something that isn’t work clothes or sweatpants is exciting enough without the promise of alcohol and talking shit. Having all three at the same time would have me nearly delirious with joy after spending so much time doing purchase orders and arguing with middle-aged women about what a religieuse pastry is.
When I arrive, I discover that Katherine has already gotten a table for us and ordered shrimp tempura and a glass of wine for me. I always appreciate her friendship, but right now, I would marry her in front of all of these unwitting customers if I had an ounce of attraction toward the same sex.
“Hey! You look amazing!” she exclaims as she rises from her seat to give me a hug.
I smile widely. I’ve chosen to wear actual makeup and a gold-toned short dress that matches my skin tone brilliantly. This is probably the best I’ve looked in months.
I wonder what Viktor would think of me right now.
I hug her back, and we both sit down to immediately divulge all of our most recent sins and secrets.
“So, first of all, I need to tell you that James and I are divorcing,” she opens.
I’m frozen before I can even open my mouth to reply. James, the man who saved her from the hellhole that was the strip club we both worked at, who paid her way through grad school and stood by her when her parents disowned her? That James?
“Jesus! Why? What happened? You guys were like, a pillar of the community,” I reply, taking a large sip of my wine and almost spilling it on my chest.
“He’s been cheating on me with his secretary,” she says, rolling her eyes and scoffing as if she’s read a sappy engagement post on Facebook rather than admitted that her husband is having an affair.
“Isn’t his secretary a man?” I ask cautiously, and her eyes betray her before she’s able to stammer out an excuse or a reason.
“Oh my god, are you alright?” I ask.
She just laughs. “Please, I’ve known for years. Not about the affair, obviously, but he cared way too much about the shade of teal that our bedroom curtains were. He was devastated when they didn’t perfectly match the throw pillows he had ordered from France. How could I keep lying to myself?” she replies diplomatically without a shred of the heartwrenching, tragic passion she’s always been known for in her relationships.
It’s a bit unsettling, but sometimes the shock of a situation can cause you to behave uncharacteristically. I would know…
“But anyway, tell me about you. Are you seeing anyone? Please tell me you’re seeing someone. I need to know that someone else is getting fucked so I can live vicariously through them,” she gushes, following her words up with a large gulp of wine.
Maybe we both just need to get stupid drunk.
“Well…” I hesitate. I’m embarrassed to go into detail about how the incident between Viktor and I came to be, especially when I was showing such a resolute, unwavering face for my cause. I fucked someone for lower rent. What kind of person does that make me?
“Well?” she replies, her eyes sparking with the promise of an overindulgent, vivid sex story that she can chew on for days and days.
“I had a one-night stand with someone last night. He’s my landlord at the bakery,” I admit, blushing as the memory and the alcohol both blend beautifully in my bloodstream.
Katherine slams her hand on the table in shock. “Millie! Holy shit! That’s so unlike you,” she exclaims, absolutely beaming as if I’ve just asked her to be my maid of honor.
“Shush, I know it is. You want to know the worst part?” I whisper, glancing around to ensure that nobody in our vicinity has taken a peculiar interest in the topic at hand.
“Oh my god, there’s a worst part? This feels like Christmas,” she replies, inhaling a fried shrimp.
“The worst part is that I did it to get my rent lowered at the bakery. Kat, this dude has been wringing me dry every month with the way he’s raising the prices. It’s like he thinks I own some kind of luxury clothing brand instead of a standalone bakery,” I continue, feeling myself inching into a justification for what happened instead of just owning my actions as an adult woman.