“Yes, Mr. Kaplan.”
“Who is this? Where is Alexa?”
“It’s Jenny, sir. I’m Mrs. Sanderson’s assistant, she’s out today. Alexa asked me to sit in for her. She’s running an errand she said you sent her on. She said she wouldn’t be back today.”
Fucking hell. Shame hits me hard. Alexa was really doing it. That insane fucking insult I gave her.
I snatch up my phone and call Gertrude. Of course, I had not actually called her already. Her assistant answers and puts her on.
“Hello, Leo.”
“Gertrude, there is a woman on her way to you. Alexa Clark, please treat her well. Anything she needs or wants, I am covering her expenses. She is to have the best.”
“I’ll take care of her myself. Her visit will be as pleasurable as the silk against her skin. Is there anything special you would like to see her in?”
Her question tortures me. “I—no, this is not a
bout me, it’s about Alexa. She requires assistance. What she currently wearing does not fit her. If you could see to her, I would appreciate it.”
“I will endeavor to educate her in the best fit for her body as well as introduce her to the joys of silk and lace.”
I hang up and close my eyes at the idea of Alexa in black lace, in nothing at all.
I am completely and utterly fucked.
***
Alexa
Finding the place isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. It’s rather small, and the windows have nothing in them. There’s just distinctive scrolling of the name, Feminine Foundations. The door is barely closed behind me before a woman is in front of me. She’s a tiny woman, smiling, dressed all in black. The all black is glaring against the soft all white of the pretty little shop. This is no mall lingerie store, the array of silk and lace screams feminine wiles. I’m so in the wrong place.
“Hello, Alexa. I’m Gertrude and happy to meet you. Leo was quite concerned your visit today be a positive one. Would you like something to drink, champagne, wine, coffee or tea or sparkling water?”
I blush to my roots at what Leo might have told her. “I’m fine, thank you. What did he say?”
She smiles again, a fine feathering of lines are evidence she smiles often. “It wasn’t what he said exactly, it was the way he said it. I do believe I have never heard Leo sound so concerned or apologetic. Lover’s quarrel?”
My face had just gotten back to normal when I blush so fast my head swims as I shake my head frantically. “No—it’s, it’s not like that.”
Her eyebrows go up. “Interesting.” It’s clear she doesn’t believe me. “I wondered. This is the first time Leo has ever sent a woman to me.”
What? “Then why did he have your card?”
“Because Leo gave me the money to start my shop. His charitable foundation also sends young women to me every year. Many of the women didn’t grow up under the best circumstances and have no frame of reference for things like well-fitting bras and what kind of undergarments help them look their best. As my shop’s name suggests a foundation is important, when you feel good about yourself, you do better for yourself. So, the young women come and get sized, and we discuss things like what fabrics are best and style and fit of panties, slips, camisoles, shapewear like a girdle, that sort of thing.”
I know Leo has a foundation started when he turned eighteen, he signed over the trust his father was forced to create for Leo once his paternity was determined. Leo called it blood money and vowed to never touch it. From what I read it funded scholarships and grants for education, everything from private schools K-12 and college and university covering costs from tuition to books. “None of his...girlfriends have ever been here?”
“No, well, not that I know of. He’s certainly never called me sounding quite desperate to make amends as he did a few minutes ago.”
I’m confused. “Leo just called you?”
“Yes, maybe five minutes before you arrived.”
The confusion doesn’t go away over the next hour. Gertrude is sweet, I really like her. I never would have thought I would be so comfortable. Her laughter wasn’t mean when I first blushed as I took off my blouse and bra. She offered to take off her own to make me feel comfortable, and the embarrassment just disappeared.
I’m surprised when she informs me that I’m a 42D instead of the size I thought I was. Then I’m in heaven when she has me try on a beautiful lace bra. At first, I’m doubtful at the size and the underwire. Then I put it on, and it feels amazing. Soft satin is against my skin while the lace is the decoration above it.
“The underwire isn’t digging into me, and I’m not coming out of it. And it’s so pretty.” I’m still a little embarrassed at the need for her to add something to extend the size from the 40 to a 42 which Gertrude told me was silly. There was a reason she had so many of the extenders, many women needed them.