Page 4 of Flame it Up

“So what?” Mazie said, raising a hand in the air. “We’ve met so many of these rich CEO types before. What makes you think she’ll be any different?”

Emilia wrinkled her nose and leaned against the fence. The glistening sun in her eyes looked like a pool, one that Mazie saw reflected within her own green orbs.

“She’s a matchmaker, too,” Emilia said. “Some of the ladies are talking about meeting someone tonight. Wouldn’t that be just grand?”

Emilia flicked a hand in the air and bowed backward as she emulated an English accent. Mazie once again rolled her eyes and returned to shoveling shit, what she enjoyed and was used to.

“Yes, it all sounds like a dream, doesn’t it?” Mazie said, doing her best impression of a posh British accent herself.

“How long has it been since you got some?” Emilia asked.

Mazie smiled as she continued cleaning. “You know how long,” Mazie said. “It hasn’t been a priority for me. This Peace Corps work was what I wanted. I’m not going to disrupt that with some fling.”

Emilia cocked an eyebrow. “Well, why not? That’s why they call it a fling. One good flick, and you’re good!”

Mazie laughed and told her friend to pick up a shovel. Emilia continued to go on about Gerri Wilder coming to the event and how they were set to attend as guests for once, rather than working in the back like they usually did.

“How does someone like that have time for matchmaking?” Mazie asked.

Emilia shrugged as she carried over the barrel for the rhino droppings. “You know rich people. They have time for things us working folks would never even dream of.”

“That’s very true,” Mazie said, considering. “I’ve spoken to her before at events. She did seem very romantic and intense.”

Emilia agreed enthusiastically. “It’s the eyes, chica,” she said, widening her lids comically.

Mazie listened and joked back, but she wasn’t kidding about her disinterest. She’d much rather stay in her lodgings with a good book while everyone got hangovers. Plus, she would never hear the end of it the next day, and there would be an assortment of social media photos she could go through.

She wasn’t unsociable. She just didn’t care about those kinds of things. She’d had enough of privileged people with her parents and the rich men who came to their events, thinking that because they donated what would take a lifetime for Mazie to gather that they could have anything they wanted. That often meant harassing the women in the kitchen.

Mazie would steer clear of all of that after they finished setting up. The corps workers spent most of the day discussing the event, which mostly revolved around what they would wear and who they might meet. Mazie didn’t blame them. It was a change of pace, a change of scenery. And that was often good for the brain.

After the corps workers finished up their day, they headed for the lodges they were assigned to for restrooms and showers, and they all began to get ready for the event. Mazie shared hers with Emilia and two other women, all of whom were fun to be around. Mazie showered off the sweat and dirt from her day, rubbing her face under the stream of cool water.

She began brooding a bit while she stood there, taking in the rush of liquid over her warm skin. It had certainly been a while since she’d been with anyone physically, and she wasn’t lying when she said it wasn’t on her priority list. But every now and then, she’d feel a tingle, a passing thought or whiff of someone’s scent at the sanctuary that wasn’t manure. She hadn’t lost her sexual desire. It had just been put on the back burner for a moment.

Mazie ran her hands down her body, her larger-than-most breasts, the curve of her hips, and bulbous ass. She hadn’t even made time for pleasurable sessions for herself, so maybe she truly was due one single sweet night with someone she could meet at the gala event.

When Mazie heard the cackle of Emilia’s laugh outside the bathroom, she was shot out from her fantasy world. She scoffed at herself and finished rinsing her hair and body before turning off the water.

There’s not going to be anyone there tonight that would be clever enough to charm my pants off. Nah, my good book awaits.

Mazie wrapped her hair in a towel, got dressed, and let the other girls in to get themselves ready. She was still going to help set up before the night began because that was who she was … always the helper, the giver.

The sanctuary ordered two massive tents that would be placed on the sanctuary property away from the animals. The catering company arrived along with the tents, and Mazie and some of her other coworkers helped coordinate the setup and placement of the food.

Emilia and her roommates arrived a bit later, sporting ball gowns that put prom queens to shame. Mazie watched as Emilia grinned ear to ear, her ruby red, sparkly dress dazzling in the evening light.

“You look gorgeous,” Mazie whispered into her friend's ear.

Emilia giggled. “You could, too, you know,” she whispered back. “It might even get you laid.”

Mazie pushed her friend away softly and turned back to see the caterers. “You get on that then,” she said with a little chuckle of her own.

Some of the corps members, like Mazie, had volunteered to work the event rather than attend it. The majority of them had arrived before any guests were set to, which was what they were instructed to do.

It was only a few minutes later that a party bus arrived along the pathway of the sanctuary. Mazie heard its gas-guzzling puff of air and squeaky brakes as she helped in the kitchen. She frowned, getting a fearful stir inside her gut.

She went outside and saw that the bus was full of white, frat-boy-looking types. She recognized the social media influencers invited to the event. Another form of privilege that Mazie detested. For entitled young men who borrowed their parents’ money to show off a brand of champagne all over their Instagram pages. As if that added anything to the world.

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