by Dara Girard
She glanced back at the previous questions and quickly jotted down ‘piano’ and ‘rock climbing’ then jumped to the final question.
What is your ideal man like? She wrote down, I don’t know. Then remembered Rita’s question, ‘What would you do if you could change your future?’ She would like a second chance with Adrian. You still love him. But that was wrong. He was with someone else. She crossed off her words. If she really cared about him, she’d want him to be happy and Roberta seemed nice, a little bossy and pushy, but people at times said the same about her. So she wrote, I want to fall madly in love without going crazy. Is that even possible? I don’t know, but I want a man who wouldn’t be destroyed by my secrets. Who will forgive me my flaws and not run away from them and…
She tossed her pen down and sat back. She was asking too much and her reply didn’t make sense. She wasn’t being clear and precise. That’s what a rational mind did. She was being emotional and bleeding on the page. She grabbed the application and began to crumple it up then stopped.
Don’t run from this Caryn, it may be your only chance. She didn’t know where the voice came from, but it sounded hurt and she heeded it’s warning. She smoothed the application then quickly wrote, ‘I don’t want an ideal, I want my true love’.
Before she could change her mind she quickly read over the ‘sworn’ oath. As a member of The Black Stockings Society, I swear I will not reveal club secrets, I will accept nothing but the best and I will no longer settle for less, signed the application, paid the nominal membership fee, using her credit card, and ran outside and popped it in the mailbox.
A couple of days later, Caryn found a medium sized package in her mailbox. Inside the box, encased in a purple satin cloth, were four pairs of different types of stockings, a membership card that read Caryn Angela Chandler, Member, The Black Stockings Society.
She’d made it? She’d actually passed? They’d accepted her application and all her ramblings? Caryn danced around her apartment, pumping her fists and making up a few dance movements before returning to the package.
Welcome to The Black Stockings Society. Your first assignment is to take your membership card to Haven Spa, where you will receive the platinum plus. Your appointment for the platinum plus has already been reserved please arrive at this time.
Caryn saw the date and felt her stomach shrivel. She licked her lips. This can’t be right. The appointment was set for today. She glanced at the clock. In less than two hours! Why hadn’t they consulted her? How could they make a reservation without telling her? What if she didn’t have her schedule free? What if she hadn’t opened the package until later this evening? What if…?
But you did open it and your schedule is free, a nagging voice said. You wanted to live a little dangerously, so go for it.
Caryn grabbed her keys and handbag and raced out the door.
Chapter Eleven
She’d never get away with this, Caryn thought looking at the exclusive address and exquisitely designed building. The application fee wasn’t even close to what a simple wash and curl would cost at this place. Was someone playing a joke on her? She grabbed the silver door handle and pulled. She wouldn’t know until she found out. She took a deep breath and walked up to the sleek black counter.
“My name is Caryn Chandler and I have an appointment for the platinum plus,” she said smoothly, having practiced the line many times on her drive to the spa.
The clerk, a young woman with spiky black hair and porcelain skin, checked her computer. “I’m afraid you’re not in the system. Are you sure it was for today?”
Could she have gotten the day wrong? Of course they wouldn’t schedule something like this on the same day she received the package. In her excitement she must have gotten the date and time mixed up. Or maybe she’d gotten the location wrong. Caryn hastily pulled out her instructions. Her membership card slipped out and landed on the counter.
The clerk jumped up as if a frog had leapt out of Caryn’s handbag. “Oh my God! Can I touch it?”
Caryn frowned. “Touch what?”
The clerk pointed at the card. “That.”
“Sure,” Caryn said not understanding the young woman’s enthusiasm.
The woman swept it up as if it were a golden ticket. “I heard about this, but never seen one.” She chewed her lower lip, a tinge of red touching her cheeks. “Please don’t tell anyone I screwed up,” she said, handing the card back to Caryn.
“But you haven’t.”
“I—”
Another woman about Caryn’s age, but better dressed and a foot taller, approached them. “What’s going on here?”
“There’s a mistake regarding my appointment,” Caryn said.
The young clerk looked sheepish, the tinge of red growing a deeper shade. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see the card.”
“It’s probably my fault,” Caryn said not wanting the young clerk to be reprimanded. “I didn’t show it to her. Does it make a difference?”
The older woman sat down behind the computer. “More than you know.” She looked at the screen. “Yes, your appointment is set. Please enjoy,” she said, motioning to the hall.
“Thank you,” Caryn said then paused. “Excuse me, but how is payment—”
“Your membership covers all costs. Enjoy.”
Caryn nodded, turned and jumped when she saw a woman with intricate braids and silver eye shadow, standing behind her as if she’d appeared out of thin air.
“Please follow me,” the woman said.
Moments later, Caryn found herself in a private suite wearing a green terry robe. She was treated to fresh strawberries dipped in chocolate and champagne, had a chocolate body wrap and massage, and a skin treatment. Then she was led into a room with a vanity and chair and seated. Within minutes three women entered and circled her chair.
“This is going to be interesting,” the first woman, a full figured woman of Asian heritage with bright red lips, reddish brown hair, and sparkles on her lashes said, pressing her palms together as if in prayer.
The second woman narrowed her hazel gaze, folding twig-thin brown arms. “Are you sure she’s a platinum plus client?” she said giving Caryn the once over.
“Yes,” the third woman said, using a heavily ringed hand to touch the tips of Caryn’s wig.
“My name is Lin,” the first woman said with a smile.
“It’s really Regina,” the second woman said in a stage whisper. “But she wants to be exotic.”
Lin shot her a look. “No, I just think the name suits me better.”
“I’m Andrea,” the second woman said. She motioned to the third woman. “And this is Patty. We’re going to give you a total makeover. You’ll leave here with new clothes—”
“And we’ll redo your hair and makeup,” Lin said.
“Well,” Caryn said, glancing up. “This isn’t my hair. I—”
Patty made an impatient motion with her hand. “You don’t need to tell us. You weren’t fooling anyone.” She pulled the wig off and tossed it over her shoulder, expertly hitting the trash bin behind her. “That’s the past.” She looked at the other women. “Ladies, let’s get to work.”
Hours later, Caryn stared at herself in the full-length mirror, unable to believe her own eyes. They’d given her a stylish shoulder length black brown weave, redone her eyes to accentuate the gold highlights, chosen a deep purple hue for her lips, and dressed her in a black A line skirt and flirty red top. She looked ten years younger and felt like a new woman.
“Is this really me?” she said, stepping closer to the mirror and touching her hair.
“Yes,” Patty said.
“The rest of your wardrobe will arrive tomorrow,” Lin added.
Caryn turned to her, amazed. “You mean I get more?”
Andrea winked. “Girl, this is just the beginning.”
And as promised, a host of clothes arrived the next day, and Caryn stared at her newly filled closet, stunned. At first she panicked a little. She
’d never completely filled anything before—from notebooks to the cabinets in her kitchen—and didn’t want too much. But fortunately, everything fit perfectly so her anxiety left her. She pinched herself then winced. Yes, this was real. She pulled out The Black Stockings Society package, which she’d hidden underneath the bed, and read the next instructions.
Once you have gone to the spa you will select and wear one of your stockings to your next client meeting.
Caryn laid out the four choices of stockings on the bed, and licked her lips, worried. None looked appropriate for a client meeting. For dancing or a night club scene? Yes. But in the daytime they seemed a little risqué. She slid on a pair of dark green fishnets, the feel of them like a second skin, and she felt an unfamiliar sensation come over her. A bold sensual power. Adrian’s face flashed in her mind and suddenly she felt her body aching for the touch of his hand, the feel of his skin. An almost painful desire to be his woman again.
She stripped off the stockings and tossed them on the bed in horror. She stared at them as if they could leap up and attack her. What was going on? That was impossible. The whole request was crazy. How could she wear something like this to a client meeting? She lifted up the stockings holding them between her thumb and forefinger. She’d never worn something like that before. They made her feel like a different woman. She didn’t like the feeling. They made her feel reckless and wild. She released them, folded her arms and looked at the other selections. None seemed appropriate.
Caryn fell on the bed, rubbing her forehead unsure what to do next. This was just the beginning of being a member of the club. She wanted to follow the instructions…but this was too much. However, if she wore a long skirt, no one would notice. She rushed to her closet and realized that the longest skirt reached just below her knees. Then again, she didn’t have to wear a skirt, she could wear trousers. They didn’t say she had to wear them with a skirt. Feeling more confident, she put her outfit together.
Roberta could hardly keep her mouth closed when Caryn arrived.
“What happened to you?” Roberta said, making a circle around Caryn.
“Just thought I’d try a new look.”
“You should have tried it sooner.” She held up a hand. “Not that I’m being rude or anything. It’s just that I hardly recognized you.”
“Thanks, but I’m not here for me. Let’s get this place organized.”
Although Roberta continued to gawk and stare, Caryn stayed professional. She looked over the homework she’d given to Roberta, surprised Adrian had even completed it, then she and her two assistants were able to organize the areas within hours.
As she watched everything being put into new drawers, closets and wire baskets, Caryn felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. She didn’t realize how hard it would be to be in his place a third time. Her traitorous mind briefly flashing to his bedroom, ruminating on how his sheets would feel against her skin, how he’d feel when there were no sheets to separate them. She rubbed her hands against her trouser legs, a part of her wanting to give Roberta a peek of her stockings, just to say “You don’t know me as well as you think you do. Adrian could fall for me again.” But she managed to keep her cool. She was sensible, not flirty and definitely not seductive, although the stockings made her feel as if she could be. She’d take them off the moment she got home.
Once the project was completed, Roberta again looked around speechless. “You truly are a master. Adrian will love it.”
“It was a pleasure working with you.” And I hope to never see you again.
“Likewise. I’ll keep your card in case my place needs you.”
Damn. “That would be great.”
Caryn returned home feeling as if a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She’d survived without making a fool of herself. But as she approached her front door she saw an attractive, full figured, dark skinned woman leaning against it, wearing a blue silk dress and dangling silver earrings. She sent Caryn a fierce look. “Do you think you can get away with cheating?”
Chapter Twelve
“Isn’t it amazing! I told you she was the best, didn’t I?”
Adrian sat behind his piano and flexed his fingers. “Hmm.”
Roberta wrapped her arms around Adrian’s neck and placed a noisy kiss on his cheek. “Don’t you think she did a great job?”
He began to play a classic country song. “Sure.”
“You hardly looked.”
“I saw enough.” He didn’t want to admit that he had been impressed, that he wanted to open all the windows to rid his place of Caryn’s scent because it still turned him on. She’d even left a workable plan for Monica’s organization, giving his sister key contacts to help her implement a more sustainable and efficient plan to store and distribute the teddy bears. For that alone, he was in danger of falling in love with Caryn all over again. His place was now almost teddy bear free, and if he didn’t see another button-eyed, fuzzy brown toy, it would be too soon.
Roberta sat on the piano bench beside him.“Well, if you think she’s done anything to this place, you should have seen what she did to herself. She must have fallen in love or something.”
Adrian’s fingers fumbled over the keys, but he quickly corrected himself. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
“I was just so shocked. I didn’t think a person could look so different.”
“That’s enough, Roberta.”
“She didn’t look like herself at all. She’s had a complete makeover and it looked expensive.”
“I said that’s enough.”
“I wonder where she got her hair done and…must you play that so loud?”
He didn’t adjust his playing. “No.”
“You play so well, you’d think you’d have better taste.”
“I like country.”
“I know,” she said with a groan. “I’ll get used to it when I move in.”
Adrian stopped playing and stared at her. “What?”
Roberta gestured to the newly organized room. “You didn’t think I was doing all this just for you, did you?”
He blinked. “Yes, I did.”
“You may want to take your time, but I don’t. It’s time we moved in together. You want it as much as I do. You wouldn’t have given me the keys to your place otherwise.”
“I gave you the keys because—”
“You wanted me to take charge of getting your place organized,” she said with a grin as if she knew something that he didn’t. “That’s your excuse, but your real reason is that you wanted to take our relationship to the next level.”
“No, I—”
“We make such a great couple. All my friends think so.”
“Roberta—”
“And my mother’s already hearing wedding bells, but I told her that’s down the road.”
“Roberta—”
“Moving in together just makes sense and you’ve got the space. I think…don’t walk away when I’m talking to you. I hate when you do that.”
Adrian walked to his kitchen and opened the fridge. “You’re not moving in.”
Roberta stopped in the entryway and folded her arms. “Not yet, but soon.”
He pulled out a container of cut papaya and shook his head. “I like how things are now.”
“I don’t.”
He grabbed a fork from the drawer then sat down at the table and took the lid off the container.
“Did you hear me?”
He nodded, stabbed a cube of papaya and ate it.
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“I like you,” Adrian said softly, “but I like my space more.”
Roberta held up her hands in surrender. “This is not the time to talk about this. We’ll talk about it later.”
He took another bite. “No we won’t,” he said in the same soft tone.
“You’re just annoyed because I keep teasing you about your music.”
Adrian stabbed another cube. “You’re not li
stening to me.”
“I promise I won’t do it anymore,” Roberta said in a bright tone, then started to turn, but paused when she saw something on the kitchen counter. She walked over to it. “Oh, what’s this?”
“Looks like a notebook,” he said with little interest.
Roberta looked at the front and back of the purple notebook and shook her head. “Caryn must have left it. That woman is so detailed. You should have seen all the notes she took down when I spoke to her. I’ll—”
“Leave it.”
“But I should let her know—”
“I said leave it.”
Roberta rested her hip on the counter and glared at him. “You really are in a mood today.”
Yes, he was in a foul mood and it wasn’t getting better. He hated thinking about Caryn’s new love. He had to stop himself from asking what color lipstick she was wearing so he could imagine what it would be like to have her leave lipstick stains all over his chest. But she’d done the makeover for someone else, right? It wasn’t for him. Although, she’d causally left part of herself in his place, was there something to that? He put the lid back on the container and sat back. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I thought you didn’t want to have to deal with her.”
He stood and put the container in the fridge.
Roberta looked at him, suddenly worried. “Is there something you don’t like about her organization? If that’s the case, tell me and not her. I don’t—”
He closed the fridge door then said in a soft voice. “I’m not going to repeat myself.” He held out his hand.
Roberta reluctantly handed him the notebook. “Fine, but promise me you won’t say anything to upset her. I’d like to use her again, and—okay, okay, I know that look. I’m going.” She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Don’t mess anything up, your place looks amazing now. See you later.”