Page 38 of Sinister Games

CHAPTER12

LIZZIE

“Ms. Larkin, are you paying attention?”

“Yes, Professor Handleson.”

No, Professor Handleson.

I was too busy reliving the amazing, mind-blowing date I had last night with Mr. Perfect. I didn’t think I slept a wink last night. I just kept lying in bed, thinking about Richard. I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around all the crazy details of our date. From the designer dress to the gorgeous and outrageously expensive brooch to the amazing meal and then of course… everything that followed.

I should have felt guilty and perhaps a little ashamed of my wanton behavior. I mean, I did give a man a blowjob in the middle of a restaurant. Sure, he had paid all the patrons to be there and look the other way, but I didn’t know that at the time. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I still blushed to think about stripping off my clothes and displaying myself on the table like a second dessert.

When I thought about it, I could still feel the hard wood along my back. The soft linen tablecloth balled up in my fists and the sepia-colored lights twirling and twinkling around me as if I were floating in a glass of champagne.

Then of course there was the feel of his tongue on my body. The expert touch of his fingers as they once more drove me to the edge and back. My nipples hardened as I relived every intense detail in my mind.

No, Professor Handleson, I was definitely not paying attention.

With a sigh, I tried to focus. It was only my second day of class and I really wanted to make a good impression. Daydreaming was not going to cut it.

“Begin pinning your patterns. By the end of class, you should have it cut out and sewn so that you are ready to begin distressing the fabric next class.”

We were studying Les Misérables’ costuming, essentially learning how to make a dress look old, filthy, and shabby. According to Professor Handleson you had to earn the privilege of sewing the more beautiful gowns you saw on the period dramas of the BBC. While I certainly didn’t expect to be sewing replicas of Downtown Abbey costumes our first week, it hadn’t occured to me that I would have to be excited for creating a dress that looked like it had been dragged through a sewer.

Once more my thoughts wandered to the Vampire’s Wife dress Richard bought me. A portion of the hem was torn as well as one of the sleeves but I would definitely be able to repair it easily enough. Looking down at my left shoulder, his diamond bird pin winked back up at me. Wearing black denim with patent leather flats and a soft heather gray sweater gave my outfit a very vintage Audrey Hepburn look, which I loved. Everyone assumed it was just a cool piece of costume jewelry, which of course I let them keep thinking, but I knew the truth.

I had been completely enthralled with Richard before I knew he had insane money and if he never gave me another dress or piece of jewelry, I would still be equally transfixed by him. That being said, I loved receiving the gifts, not just for what they were but for what they represented. Surely, he hadn’t given every woman he dated such extravagant, thoughtful gifts?

My brow furrowed at the thought of him dating another woman. We hadn’t really talked about it. We had only been on two dates, one if you didn’t count the randomness of our first date. A man like him probably had a string of women, in multiple countries. My stomach twisted. I didn’t want to share him. Didn’t want to think about him playing our games with another woman.

Boy, did I have it bad! And I had only known the man for forty-eight hours. Couldn’t imagine how loony tunes I would be for him if this lasted more than a few weeks.

Looking down at the dark screen on my phone, there were still no texts from him. I had finally remembered to ask him his phone number last night. I still remembered my shock when he pulled his mobile from his suit pocket. It really was extraordinary that during our entire date he hadn’t taken his phone out once, not even to glance at it quickly.

Surely a man worth billions, who owned probably hundreds of companies, would have people trying to reach him at all hours of the day. Whether or not there were other women, it made me feel special that he never looked at his phone when he was with me. I bet those imaginary other women couldn’t say that.

He had warned me he hated mobile phones and only used them when absolutely necessary. So, I guessed I shouldn’t have been expecting him to text me like a besotted teenager. All the same, it would have been nice if he at least answered my thank you text from last night.

Unable to resist, I tapped my phone, lighting it up. I tapped the text icon. It couldn’t hurt to double-check.

Me: Thank you again for my beautiful present. Dinner was amazing. Especially dessert. ;) —Lizzie

Nothing.No response.

I had labored over that text for an hour last night, trying to strike the right casual tone. Maybe I shouldn’t have signed off as Lizzie? He had made it clear he preferred to call me Elizabeth. At first it felt strange, but I loved the sound of my name on his lips. His use of my formal name also helped me feel a bit older and sophisticated. A man like Richard wouldn’t date a young actress named Lizzie, but he would date a future fashion designer named Elizabeth.

Maybe I shouldn’t have started by thanking him for the brooch? Had that made me sound like the gift was my top priority?

He probably thinks I’m a gold digger now. Dammit.

I shouldn’t have included the winking emoji. It made me look immature. I imagined the femme fatales he was probably dating would have died before texting a man like Richard a winking emoji.

Picking up my phone, I fired off a quick text.

Me: Nothing. Nothing! Nooooottthhhinnngggg!!

Jane: Jeez! He’s a busy guy + he’s like forty. They don’t text.

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