I’ll be in touch.
Mel sat at her table, her laptop open in front of her, half a dozen textbooks stacked up beside it. Her eyes glazed over as she scanned the screen. She took off her headphones in defeat. She should have gone to the library instead of staying in. It was hard to get anything done in her tiny apartment.
She would take a small break and then get back to it. Mel had to work much harder than her classmates to stay on top of everything. Most of them didn’t have to work while they were at law school. They were trust fund kids, or at the very least had parents who helped support them. But Mel didn’t have that luxury.
And for Mel, simply doing well enough to pass wasn’t an option. If she wanted a good job when she graduated, she had to maintain a competitive GPA. She had to remain disciplined. It was what got her this far, and it was the only way she knew how to be.
Ever since Mel was a kid, she’d had no one else in her life to provide her with structure and direction. Her father had left when Mel was young, and her alcoholic mother had never been a reliable parent. She resented Mel for being a constant reminder of the man who had broken her heart and left her with nothing. So she did the bare minimum, keeping Mel fed, clothed, and sheltered from the cold. But otherwise, Mel was on her own.
So Mel took control of her life, to the point where it became an obsession. Eventually, she decided to focus all her energy on making a better life for herself. College was her ticket out of her hometown, and she’d thrown everything into her studies to escape.
Mel stretched out her arms and looked around the room. Her hard work had paid off. She’d left her old life far behind her. But after years and years of fighting her way through the world, she wanted to just give in to temptation and let go of it all.
Mel shut her laptop. She needed to go for a run.
There was a knock on her door. Mel jumped. No one ever came to her apartment unannounced, and she wasn’t expecting a delivery.
Mel opened the door. A woman stood before her, dressed in a crisp black suit and a matching overcoat. Her short, dark hair was parted at the side, and her shoes were immaculate. She looked to be around forty. Did she have the wrong apartment number? Or was she lost?
“Melanie?” the woman asked. She had a thick accent that Mel couldn’t place.
Mel nodded.
The woman pulled a package out from under her arm. It was a black box with a silk ribbon tied around it. “A gift for you. From Ms. Harper.”
“Ms. Harper?”
“Yes. Ms. Vanessa Harper.”
“Oh.” Mel took the package from the woman. “Thanks.”
With a nod, the woman walked off down the hall.
Mel shut the door, her head filled with questions. Vanessa was sending her gifts? And having them hand-delivered to her apartment? She placed the package on the table, eyeing it warily. Mel had always felt uncomfortable receiving gifts. Her mother always saw them as ‘charity.’ She’d said that if Mel accepted handouts, people would think they were poor. If only she’d cared as much about Mel as she cared about what other people thought of her.
Mel’s phone buzzed. It was a message from the same unknown number as the other night after her shift. Mel hadn’t saved the number, but the digits were imprinted on her mind. She opened the text.
Tomorrow. 9 pm. Same place. Wear my gift.
Wear her gift? Immediately, Mel’s reservations about the package were replaced by excitement. She grabbed the box from the table and untied the ribbon. She lifted the lid and was met with layer after layer of black tissue paper, until finally, Mel reached her prize. It was a set of lacy lingerie in a shade of purple so deep that it was almost black. She held the bra up to the light. The thin, delicate lace was almost entirely transparent. There was a clasp at the front between the two cups. The panties were made of the same sheer fabric, and tied up at the sides with little bows. Both pieces left little to the imagination.
Mel ran her fingers over the soft lace. She had never owned anything so luxurious. How much did this cost?
It didn’t matter. If Vanessa wanted to Mel to come to her dressed in pretty things, who was Mel to deny her?
Mel put the bra and panties back in the box and threw herself down onto the bed. She read the text again carefully. She had no idea what Vanessa was planning. But she knew that if she went to Vanessa’s room tomorrow night, there would be no going back.
Chapter Seven
Mel walked into The Lounge the next night with Vanessa’s gift on under her clothes. She gave the bar a narrow berth, hoping to slip by unnoticed by her coworkers, and made her way up to Vanessa’s room. The door at the top of the stairs loomed before her. She took a deep breath and knocked.
“Come in, Melanie.”
Mel stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. Vanessa sat in her armchair, a glass of whiskey in her hand. Her raven hair was gathered over one shoulder, and she wore a black satin robe, belted at the waist. Mel couldn’t help but wonder if she was wearing anything underneath it.
“Come here,” Vanessa said.
Mel walked over and stood before her.