Department Store (10 page)

Ten minutes later, without even a credit card changing hands, we were out the door and heading back to the shop.

“How much?”

Felicity giggled.

“Well, I told you I would let you know how much the underwear cost. The bra and knickers set was two hundred and twenty-five dollars, the garter belt a further seventy-five and the stockings, as I said, twenty-nine a pair.”

“Oh my God!”

“Don’t worry, honey, I’m not going to tell you how much the dress cost, but after tonight it will be yours to keep. All of it will.”

She smiled brightly at me.

“Now, I’ll take the dress carrier. There isn’t room in one of the lockers to keep it flat and we don’t want it creased. When you are finished working, come up to the office and you can use my private wash room to get ready. I’ll talk to Charles about your hair. No doubt he will want to see the dress anyway.”

“Okay.”

“If he says ‘yes’ to the hair, I’ll book you in and arrange it with Cecelia. No problems. I’ll see you at closing, sweetie, bye.”

Watching the monitor in my office as Felicity helped Amy get ready for our date was a pleasure all in itself. Felicity of course knew exactly where the hidden spy camera was, although she skilfully didn’t let Amy catch on. She knew I only used it on occasions like this. I nodded to myself; she had been right about the hair. Initially I’d wanted my long-haired blonde beauty to wear her hair natural and straight but Felicity had been right. She looked incredible with it piled up on her head, held in place with a diamante studded comb and with tiny curled bangs hanging down to frame her face.

The underwear looked delicious. My secretary had told me about Melinda’s comments about being good enough to eat, and I fully agreed with her; Amy dressed in the black silk and red lace did look that good.

It was almost a shame as Felicity lowered the opaque section of Amy’s dress over her head, holding it carefully so as not to mess the elaborate hair style. She’d told me how Amy, on seeing the Velcro tabs, had blushed hard, obviously thinking about being told to remove the lower layer at some point in the evening, leaving her in the lace layer over the underwear. I’d left it to Melinda to pick the dress, knowing she knew my tastes, but I hadn’t realised both of them knew my tastes that well. I suppose it was time to think about writing a couple of bonus cheques, although the price for the dress was still a little eye-watering.

On the screen in front of me Felicity helped Amy complete the process of straightening the outer layer of the dress as well, and as Amy stood up she looked exactly like she should, a blonde bombshell. Amy was perched on the stool as the gossamer thin black stockings were drawn up her legs by my secretary. Knowing how she operated I’m sure she had told Amy that Melinda was gay and that she herself was straight. The truth was slightly more complicated, I knew both were actually bi and that Felicity was chomping at the bit to get at the innocent morsel in front of her. That prompted a thought about later in the week when I would be unable to have Amy for myself. Maybe I could use Felicity to broaden both Amy and her husband’s horizons; worth thinking about.

On the monitor they moved on to applying the makeup and, knowing I had a good half an hour if not more before my date would be ready, I switched the monitor off and did some real work.

* * * *

“You look a million dollars, sweetie.”

I took another look in the full wall mirror.

“I don’t know . . .”

“Believe me, honey, you look sensational. You will knock them dead tonight. Every man there will be jealous of Charles. Exactly the effect he wants. Every woman there will be jealous of you too, apart from those that want to get into your pants that is.”

“Felicity . . .”

I giggled though; her comments had dispelled the nerves.

“Here goes nothing.”

“Wait a sec, let me announce you, give you a grand entrance.”

We moved from the washroom across her office to the big double doors into Mister Chisholm’s office. Normally she opened just one of them but this time she motioned me to one side and then pointed at the spot directly in front of the join between them. It took a moment but the penny dropped and I nodded and winked at her. Turning from me, she opened one of the doors and I shuffled forward to stand near it, but out of sight from the desk while she opened the other.

“Mister Chisholm, I give you your date for the evening, Amy Brown.”

She moved gracefully to the side and taking a deep breath I stepped into the spot she had indicated and waited for his reaction.

He looked straight at me from behind his desk before nodding his head gently and rising to his feet. My heart pounded as he walked from behind his desk and across the room toward me. Mister Chisholm circled me slowly and then stopped in front of me, his face showing only faint amusement.

Then his demeanour changed, his face split with a boyish grin and he grabbed my hand before gracefully bringing it to his lips to kiss my lace covered fingers.

“You look absolutely stunning, Amy, absolutely beautiful. I am so glad Felicity suggested having your hair done like that. You are radiant, honey, absolutely radiant. Shall we go?”

With that he trapped my arm in his and, spinning around, made for the exit. Behind me I could see Felicity walking into his office to clear away the paperwork he had left strewn all over the huge mahogany desk. The guilty thought crossed my mind that only some twenty-seven hours earlier it had been me and not paperwork strewn over that desk but I quickly dismissed it and concentrated on listening to his light conversation as he led me back through the shop and downstairs to the rear entrance where his car waited.

 
We’d just about reached the rear door when a slightly breathless Felicity caught us up.

“You need to take these, Amy. Otherwise you’ll be improperly dressed for work in the morning.”

She handed me a carrier bag containing my uniform. I had left it behind in her washroom in my confusion.

“Thank you, Felicity. We’ll put it in the boot so Amy won’t forget it . . . again.”

“Thank you,” I managed to say in a small voice. Somewhere in there I was sure I’d heard a tiny reprimand.

Throughout the car journey Mister Chisholm was a perfect date, keeping up a lively stream of light banter, some of which was genuinely funny and I didn’t have to force the smiles or the giggles at all. Genuinely I felt a million dollars in this dress and he’d already said he liked my smile. In a dress like this it was difficult not to smile. It wasn’t long before we arrived at the Country Club where the maitre’d fawned all over his obviously well known patron and led us to a quiet table for two at the back of the room, some small distance from the other customers. Table for two? The table for the two of us was bigger than most restaurants set for four!

I was sitting side-on to the main part of the restaurant, and obviously by design the high cut side of the dress was on the outer side, allowing me, or rather Mister Chisholm, to expose a fair amount of my thigh to anyone who cared to look. I made no comment, knowing deep down things would probably get a lot worse before the evening was over and it would also not be by my own choice. Deep down the thought sent a tingle through my pussy.

“Shall I order for both of us, Amy?”

“Yes please,” I was nonplussed by the menu, totally at sea.

“Is there anything you particularly don’t like?”

“To be honest, sir, I don’t like any kind of shellfish, it always does something to my stomach.”

“Amy, you must call me Charles here.”

I nodded in acknowledgement and he continued, “That is almost certainly because they haven’t been properly cooked. The shellfish here is absolutely delicious. Still, we mustn’t take risks, it would be terrible to spoil that lovely dress and ruin the evening.”

He kept the conversation light and interesting as he alternated talking with me and talking to the maitre’d over what was best on the menu at the moment, the waiter for the order, the wine waiter to choose three different wines, one for each course. Never in my life had I eaten at such an establishment, the prices were so far beyond our reach. With a start I realised that was the first time I’d thought about Alan since this morning. Charles must have picked up the momentary distress that flashed across my face.

“Is there something wrong, Amy?”

“No, I’m fine. A stray thought is all. Honestly I’m fine si. . . Charles.”

“Good. Tell me, was the thought about your husband perhaps?”

I nodded, desperately trying to keep the smile on my face without it looking false.

“So, tell me, Amy, while we wait for our repast, how was last night? I didn’t have time to talk to you this morning. Now come on, Amy, answer me truthfully.”

“Yes . . .Charles. It went okay, I think.”

“Did you play it the way I told you?”

“Yes.”

“Did he watch the DVD and then come upstairs to where you were waiting?”

“Yes, Charles.”

“Did he leap on you and ravish you there and then?”

“No.”

“Oh . . . pity. That would have been the best outcome. Still it does fit the character of the man I must say. Did he shower with you?”

“Yes he did.”

I glanced around to make sure there was no-one in earshot, I knew the question that would be coming next and I was right.

“Did he make love to you in the shower?”

I nodded. It was just too embarrassing to talk about my private married love life here, in front of the thirty or so other diners, let alone the staff.

“And afterwards, did you watch the second disc together?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please Charles here, remember. That is your second slip of the evening.”

“I’m sorry. . . Charles.”

“How were you dressed as you watched the disk?”

“We were wearing our bath robes. Towelling ones. Cosy.”

I smiled at the memory.

“Ah, from the smile I think you both enjoyed the movie.”

“We did.”

“And did something sexual happen while you were watching it?”

“Yes, Charles, it did.”

“Good, I’m pleased to hear that. Did he fuck you or was it oral?”

“Oral.”

“On him or on you?”

I gulped.

“On him.”

“Even better. Which part of the film was on the screen when he came? Did he come in your mouth?”

I had the chance of a respite from the intimate question and answer as the waiter arrived with our soups. Finally we were alone again.

“Well?”

“Yes he did, and we were watching the section where I blew you.”

He chuckled.

“I’m not surprised. You looked so hot on that. I watched it again myself last night, twice.”

His comments brought another blush rising to my cheeks and since he hadn’t asked a question I was able to concentrate on the gorgeous soup in front of me. Regretably though the course was soon finished and I lifted my eyes to see he was sitting watching me, that same infernal half smile playing on his lips. He had to have finished his soup much quicker than I finished mine.

“And then you watched the end of the disc?”

“Yes we did, Charles.”

“How did you feel at that moment?”

I didn’t answer straight away and was just about to when he held his hand up to stop me. A second later the waiter appeared from behind me to clear away the dishes from the first course. A moment after he had disappeared, the wine waiter reappeared with the chosen red to replace the white that had accompanied the soup. Again we had the ritual of Charles sniffing the cork and tasting the wine. I had to admit the first wine had been fabulous and from the price on the wine list, I’d managed to catch a glimpse of, this one was even more expensive. Eventually we were alone again and I had to answer the question. At least the interruptions had allowed me to regain my composure and marshal my thoughts.

“Well?”

“It was awful. I watched his face change as I started to read out the script you’d given me. He’d been happy, laughing and joking with me, promising to take me to bed and return the favour and then he hit the play button.”

“What did he do then, Amy?”

Mister Chisholm’s, sorry Charles’, voice was soft and gentle, no less commanding but giving the distinct impression he was concerned as well.

“The disc finished and he just sat there for a couple of minutes, not moving. Then he stood up and walked out of the room. I heard the back door slam and I knew he’d gone out into the yard.”

“What did you think then?”

“I knew my marriage was over. Right there and then. I sat there crying my eyes out for about ten minutes.”

“Did he come back inside?”

“Not straight away . . . I dried my eyes and then went upstairs. I could see him at the bottom of the yard, his back to the house just standing there, staring into space. There’s no one behind us you see, just scrub that slopes away.”

“Keep going. . .”

“I got the small suitcase down off the wardrobe and began to pack a few essentials. I was concentrating so hard on what I was doing I didn’t hear him come back into the house, let alone come upstairs to the bedroom. I turned round to fetch something from the bathroom and there he was, blocking the doorway.”

He picked up his wine glass and sipped, indicating I should do the same as the waiter appeared with our meals. The respite again did me good, I’d calmed down enough to continue the story.

“He asked me ‘where do you think you are going?’.”

“His tone of voice?”

“Strong. Not angry just, I suppose, more commanding than I’d ever heard him.

“‘I’m getting out of your way. I’ll be back for the rest of my things when I’ve found somewhere.

‘So you are running off to him?’

‘No I’m not.’

‘Then why are you leaving?’

‘Because you don’t want me here.’

Suddenly his arms were around me.

‘That’s not true.’”