Page 7 of Baby Duke

"No, I'm trying to work with them, not against," she clarifies.

Ok, then. Her stubborn streak only goes so far.

"I meant what I said, Roe," Katie continues. "These men are powerful people. Stay in their good books."

We are cruising away from the stuffy suburban streets and into rich people's territory. Kings and Queens, hell, Dukes, for sure. These mansions werehuge. I'm talking hedges as far as you can see, perfectly trimmed with not a leaf out of place, wrought iron fences taller than I had ever seen, and, hell, some of them even had guard stations.

I spy limousines and Lamborghini's, sleek and shiny, in every color imaginable. Most of the houses cannot be seen from the road, but the ones I do catch glimpses of couldsurely house a hundred people. How in all sweet hell do they even keep those places clean?

Right, I think,theypaypeople to do it for them.

Getting back on topic, I tear my gaze back to Katie, who is shooting weary looks my way.

"So, let's get this straight, if a Baby Duke told me to get on my knees in a public bathroom and suck his cock, I should drop and blow?" I ask, smirking when Katie's cheeks begin to glow red. "No wonder bitches be carrying mouthwash around in their bags."

Katie's eyes bulge, sure as hell connecting the dots from what I'd said at the airport.

"Uh- well… I hardly think that kind of situation would arise," she finally gets out, straightening her back.

I scoff but refrain from commenting. We both know those situations could andhavemost definitely occurred. These are powerful men we were talking about.

The car begins to slow and Katie eases it into a limestone-paved driveway. Two modest but stylish barnyard-style gates swing inwards as we approach.

"Remote controlled," Katie explains at my awed expression, giving the keys in the ignition a tap.

I just nod silently. To be honest, I am at the tip of the iceberg right now, ready to take the plunge if any new shocking revelations were to crash into me.

Katie's home (I suppose it ismyhome now, too) is beautiful. The driveway ends in a circle surrounded by rows of blood-red roses. A fountain in the center, featuring a semi-naked woman pouring water from a vase, completes the Victorian-esque feel.

The house itself is diffident yet perfectly posh, with glowing white pillars and polished grey slats. The simple beauty of the three-story home made the hovel my father had owned look like an outdoor dunny. A stinking, tin, cockroach-ridden, outdoor dunny.

Katie brings the car to a stop by the steps leading to the front door before turning expectantly to me.

I gulp.

"I feel like I should be calling you Your Majesty and asking if I can polish your shoes or make you some tea or something," I finally say, letting the awe float through me.

Katie laughs. She has a pretty smile, I realize. Her thin lips opened to reveal pearl-white teeth as straight as could be. A budding dimple also makes an appearance.

"Welcome home, Roe," she says, and despite the exhaustion weighing on my shoulders, I find myself smiling back. A feeling swirls through my chest, and it takes me a moment to pinpoint what it is. It is an emotion I don't think I have ever felt before. It is both light and heavy. Soft yet firm. Solid but not.

Hope.

Chapter Five

Roe

After an uneventful evening with Katie, which involved a homecooked meal from our housekeeper, Mrs. Deeptol, a ginormous ice-cream sundae, trashy reality TV, a surprisingly solid 8-hours of sleep, and, unfortunately, not a single joint, it was time to head to school. To say I am nervous enough to piss my pants is an understatement.

The school's uniform is a joke. Katie went ahead and stocked my wardrobe the minute she found out I would be staying with her; and I'm talking a walk-in wardrobe stuffed with frills, satin, leather, and lace in colors ranging from purple, pink, blue, green, and yellow. I am struggling to find a single black item in here, because, let's face it, there is no way in hell I am wearing a single item in this room. Ok, that's a lie. The lingerie options were choice. Blacks, whites, and reds in everything from thongs to corsets and garters. Katie also slipped in a pair of red Converses amongst the glitter and straps, and they are everything my younger self (OK,andmy current self) had ever dreamed of owning.RealConverses!

But the uniform… I told Katie there was no way in hell I would be caught dead wearing the skimpy hooker outfit. She countered that she would cancel my allowances if I didn't comply with the school's rules of wearing the previously mentioned trash. Fuck that, I had already spent thousands in my head since she had told me about it, and I reallywanted to spend it for real. Starting with a head-to-toe waxing session, because it was so not yeti season.

Hell, if she wants me to dress in the teeny-tiny red cheerleader skirt, a white button-down blouse with a couple of buttons missing at the top, and thigh-high stripper socks, all for a regular cheque, I would fucking do it. She could damn well tell me to go to school in nothing but a bra and thong, and I'd go happy as Larry, as long as the price was right.

There was another condition, however.Listen to the Dukes.

To be honest, I'm not entirely convinced the Dukes hold that much power. I would be tempted to try them if it weren't for the money… Who am I kidding? I am absolutely going to test them.

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