Page 46 of 10,000 Hours With A Rich Menace

Stevie

Guilt kickedin the next morning when I realized that I blew up on Menace and all he asked was what was wrong with me. I avoided him for the next few days, only coming out my room when I knew he was gone. Soon as I knew he was back, the housekeepers talked, I made my way back to my room. On his way up to his room, he would pause on the steps heading to his floor, as if he wanted me to come out and speak to him.

Menace could have called me when he was in Japan, but that wasn’t the problem. I was so angry, sad, and resentful because my mother was gone. I was angry with her for leaving me here alone, and then I was resentful of my father.

God continued to keep sparing his life, and this last time he happened to use me to do it. I missed her so desperately and being put in the current situation I was in; I was missing her more. She would know exactly what to say and help me figure this out.

The guilt of watching him stand on the stairs last night was eating me alive, so I woke up early this morning and looked over the clothes that I had left and decided to get dressed. Housekeeping had been washing my clothes, so I didn’t feel the need to make a fuss about needing more clothes.

I slipped into the orange maxi dress with frills and thin spaghetti straps. The entire back was out, and it was a risky buy because I hated my back rolls. Since we were going to be on vacation and I would never see those people again, I threw caution into the wind and bought it.

Now I was standing here in the mirror unsure if I even wanted to wear this. The bright side of this was that I wouldn’t be leaving the house. Menace barely paid me any kind of attention anyway.

I removed my sock curlers from my hair and fluffed my curls up, adding a hair perfume into my hair, and checking my dress out. It wasn’t that I was insecure about my body – okay I was.

Since I was a child, I had always been a bit chunkier than the other girls. When I was a teenager, that chunk eventually filled out to breast, ass, hips, and thighs, which should have been a relief.

Those curves came with thicker arms and rolls, too. When it was just me staring at my body in the mirror, I loved my body and curves. It was hard to truly stand in your confidence when you had men that wanted model figures. Women with bigger asses, smaller waist, and had no body fat other than their ass.

“I like it.”

I jumped, something I learned that I would be doing often because Menace was like a cat. He was quiet, and you didn’t know he was there until he spoke.

My door was open, and he leaned in the doorway watching me in the mirror. Had I actually been paying attention to the mirror, I would have saw him standing there.

“Really?”

“I do.”

I quickly ran across the room. “You don’t think the off-white one is better?”

As I held it up to my body, he looked at me weird. “That shit look like a fucking nightgown that a woman that’s not trying to get fucked would wear.”

“Okay, Menace… was that necessary?”

“You wanted my opinion, right?”

I put the dress back onto the bed. “I wanted to apologize to you for the other night. You just came off a long flight and I blew up on you for no reason.”

“You had a reason.”

“I didn’t have a reason.”

“You did.”

“How are you telling me that I had a reason when I did not have a reason?” I folded my arms and stared at him.

He looked down at his feet, then back up into my eyes. “I didn’t call you and that bothered you. Some other shit bothered you, too, and I want to know why. I also understand that I have to earn that privilege.”

I looked behind me because this couldn’t be the same man from the warehouse a few weeks ago. He had me speechless as I stood there not knowing what to say. “Well, you could have sent a text.”

“Is that something you require in this marriage?”

I nodded my head yes. “I understand this is bu?—”

“Fair. I require you not to refer to this as a business arrangement.”

“Is that not what this is?”

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