Roz

Beginning ​

The gray light that reflected off the rain clouds shown from the window on to the water in the tub casting the entire bathroom in gloom; the gloom didn’t bother Rozlyn. Gloom seemed to be her faithful friend that was always there, always reliable. Rozlyn had become accustomed to being caught in the gloom; for most of her adult life the rain always seemed to come out at the right time. That was the one great thing about the rain that never failed; no one could tell that you were crying. The rain has always been the perfect mask. ​Rozlyn was used to wearing masks. She never allowed anyone to get close enough to see the real her. Sitting here naked in the white enameled tub with her face fresh and clean and the suds of the bubble bath long gone exposing her supple breasts was as natural and vulnerable as she allowed herself to get, even private. Rozlyn never dared to even acknowledge who she was deep inside. She didn’t want to chance opening the door she hid her true self behind out of fear that she wouldn’t be able to close the door again. The thought, the prospect of her true self being let loose and shattering the mask she has taken pains and the time to make and project as her was almost too much to even think about allowing. ​

Drip… Drip… Drip was the only sound that filled the room.

She couldn’t be sure if the sound was the leaky faucet or her tears landing on the already far passed lukewarm water. Taking another gulp of Merlot from her wineglass, she saw the candle that she was given for its supposed power to induce relaxation from the scent was more than one-third of the way burned down indicating that she has been soaking in the tub for more than one hour. She sat there a moment longer, put her wineglass on the towel shelf next to the tub, leaned forward and pulled out the water stop. She waited until most of the water was drained from the tub before turning the water on to run the shower. ​Feeling chilled from sitting in the stagnant water as long as she had, she turned the faucet on until the water temperature was warmer than what she usually likes.

When the temperature was finally right Rozlyn stood-up, closed the curtain, and turned the knob. The water was so warm and felt so good. She chuckled to herself that feeling this perfect temperature of water has made her feel warmer than she has felt, for being alone, for a length of time that she couldn’t remember beginning but knew that it will not end soon. ​The sensation of the water caressing her hair and moving down her body led her to imagine, although if it had been anyone else they would have called it hoping, that the water was washing away all of herself doubt, herself loathing, washing away all of her sins down the drain. Rozlyn smiled to herself as she thought how her situation emulated the storm outside. The shower provided the rain, and she provided the gloom.

Washing the last of the soap out of her hair and rinsing her body off, she took a deep breath knowing she will be leaving as much of the truth as she dared to face here in the shower. She had to get ready to put on her mask to go out tonight. ​Turning off the water she opened the curtain and stepped out on to the plush shower mat that covered the stone floor she fell in love with on a trip to Italy and had imported to finish her bathroom in the custom townhouse that she had built. She grabbed the Egyptian cotton Porthault towel from the shelf she sat her wineglass on, and wrapped up her long black hair to dry. She donned her Loro Piana cashmere robe, and moved over to the bathroom mirror. She always admired the beige granite tops that she ordered every time she was in front of them. Thinking about it, as she often did, she was impressed with how she designed and handpicked everything to build the townhouse at the expense of the Law Office. After all, they did want to make her happy. It was as if no one who had the job before her was smart enough to capitalize on the perks the Office was willing to lavish on her.

To some it seemed it was because she was a woman who had a great ass, and pair of legs as she had “overheard” from some of the office guys as she walked by. Taking the towel from the hook she wiped away the image obscuring steam to reveal her; the foundation mask that she never really cared for. Making sure this mask was clear of even the smallest passible flaws that could taint the foundation of the mask she soon has to adorn; she blew out the candle and opened the door. ​Stepping out of the bathroom she stood in the doorway and took a cursory look over the expensive trinkets that helped give character to the townhouse that was nothing more than a haven really, not to be mistaken as a home. Anyone else would have been happy to possess and call their own the imported and one of a kind hand crafted items she collected and showcased. But these items were just another part of the many masks that she wears.

Feeling that time was getting away from her she decided it was time to sit at her vanity table to start the tedious work on her mask that would be paraded in public tonight. ​Tonight she would be out with Joe. She enjoyed the way he made her feel, and why not, after all he gets what he wants from her every time they are together. He made her feel warm, comfortable, and sensual without exploiting her inner harlot. Taking the towel from her head, she sat at her table and tied her hair into a bun. She chose from the vast variety of bottles containing different scented elixirs, a little blue bottle of vanilla water and gave her hair a few spritzes. Joe always remarked about her he enjoyed the smell of her hair as he ran his fingers through it. He was always so gentle with her. She knew that if things were different, if she was different, less damaged she would anxiously await his marriage proposal. ​She replaced the bottle amongst its companions that have always helped her achieve the ends she set out to conquer. Opening the drawer on the left she withdrew the make-up that she would only wear for Joe. Lining-up each vital element in order of process and of the correct palette, she chose her Capra goat hair brushes from their silver case ready to begin.

Before applying the base layer to build upon, Rozlyn decided she better pick out her dress. Crossing the room she opened the sliding closet door on the left. The left side was always Joe’s side. Although it would be very easy to tell the difference between the styles of clothing she wore for Joe, the style she wore especially for Geoff, the style she wore to the office and finally the style she wore for herself. For Joe she was an elegant whisper. For Geoff she was a lewd innuendo. For work she was confident, successful, and power hungry. For herself, it didn’t matter as much since she had no one to impress or entice so comfort was left over. ​Looking through her collection that would make any fashionista covetous, she decided on her peach Terani Couture evening dress. She imagined the light dancing off of the beaded embellishments that nearly covered every inch of fabric, and of course it was just loose enough around the hips should the situation arise that would dictate instant access was warranted.

Opening her separate closet that was allotted for shoes only, she walked in and chose a pair of beige Jimmy Choo peep toe pumps. She eyed them carefully to make sure there were no scuffs, or imperfections that could be seen by anyone who would be trying to find any tarnished blemishes with her costume that could be pointed out. Not under any circumstances would she allow herself to be caught flawed at any time, but especially when she was with Joe. ​She wasn’t entirely sure what opinions Joe, and Geoff held about her but since both kept coming back to her their opinions apparently were that she was of good value. All she cared about was her ability to keep them coming back to her. She knew this would never last forever but she would be long gone after the fun had ended, and her terms would be her map to the exit. The thought often crept into her mind that when she chose to leave she would take a part of these men with her. But it is what it is and a few people would have to get hurt even if unintentionally to add another notch to her lipstick case, and keep another bit of prey in her sights. ​Thinking about those she had before she supposed she could have had a trophy case to display the hearts she knew she took when she left them. Brushing these thoughts away she decided her shoes were worthy enough to grace her feet in public.

Stepping out of the shoe closet she walked over to the king size bed and laid the dress on her silk comforter. Looking at her comforter she was glad that Molly had changed the sheets from when Geoff stayed over just three days ago. As she continued to look at the bed it was easy for her to picture the salacious interlude they had shared. ​While she cared for Joe as much as she allowed herself to, she cared for Geoff just as much. While Joe caressed her softer side, Geoff unleashed her carnal desires that lied on her darker side. Joe was affable, while Geoff was hard. Being with one was nothing like being with the other. One wore white armor, and the other wore black. Being with Geoff was more about leather and less about lace; his appetite for the risqué matched her own. Every time she saw Geoff, the sight of him made her high like a hit of cocaine. Anticipating the touch of his hands on her body drove her to do things she never would admit to having a desire to do in the light of day. Naïve or not, she was sure that neither one knew of the other. Or at least if they did know their opinion of her must have been of very high value to discount her indiscretions. Would she be so conceited to think that both of these men, who share her, share themselves with no one else? It was a lovely thought, but no reason to saddle one’s high horse over, especially for such an unsubstantiated assumption. ​

Thinking about the night she shared with Geoff made her heart race with excitement and she couldn’t help but re-trace her experience of meeting Geoff for the first time. She met him when she was with Brett. Brett was a good conquest, but he wanted more than what she did. He was one of her trophies. Brett had taken her to a new dance club, REFUGE. She was in a sexy little black number that she called her prowl dress. Brett knew the owner of the club and sidelined a VIP table in the secluded balcony that overlooked the main dance floor. Her champagne glass had just been filled from the newly opened bottle of Cristal when the owner brought Geoff over to the table to introduce another shareholder in the club, and a potential investor into Brett’s company. ​The conversation was boring but Geoff’s attention never drifted from her even while she pretended to be mildly interested in him. He asked Brett for permission to take his “Goddess” out to the dance floor. An approval that sealed the road she and Brett were traveling down. Geoff was very much a gentleman by pulling out her chair and offering his hand when she stood-up, but that was in front of others. When they made it to the dance floor and he pulled her close to him and the way he held her, hard but not painful, she knew there was a reason she wore her prowl dress, and it had yet to fail. ​The strength she felt in his arms and shoulders made her think he must be a wet dream with his shirt off. The closer he held her; she could tell his torso was not the only thing a girl could dream about. By the time the dance was over he expressed a need to see her again. She played it off at first, they would meet again if it was meant to be kind of thing. He wasn’t satisfied with that, but she didn’t continue the conversation and was making her way towards the VIP door to get back to her escort to end the evening and work off the energy that Geoff created. ​

Before she reached the door, she felt a firm grip on her right wrist and was pulled into a dark corner that didn’t have too much traffic passing by. The grip on her wrist leapt to her throat and pushed her against the wall. Geoff looked deeply into her eyes as if he was looking for a secret that she kept hidden deep inside of herself. His body blocked any exit to get away, if she had actually attempted to get away. He stroked the right side of her face, and moved in to kiss her and she let him. She made a feeble attempt to push him away, an attempt that only proved to be an invitation to make him continue with more of his appetite rising to the surface. It didn’t take very long for him to invade and enjoy her, and she to enjoy him and this experience. ​Brett would never have attempted something as daring and exciting as this, and unlike Brett, she didn’t have to fake enjoyment to keep Geoff going. He always waited until she finished before he did. After the act was over and both were satisfied, his animal appeared to be tamed and allowed is affectionate side to come out. The very last kiss they shared in the dark corner was softer than what he seemed capable of. Attempting to gain her composer, she made everything about as tidy and fresh as when she arrived. She went back to Brett, finished out the evening and went home with him. ​

She didn’t know if she was going to see Geoff again but was thinking of attempting to find him at the club, or at least she would have if he hadn’t tracked her down at her job, which made it easier for her. It was safer to be chased than to be the chaser. They have been enjoying each other’s company ever since.

Coming back to the here and now she realized it was 6 o’ clock and Joe would be here at seven to pick her up. With her dress on the bed, and her shoes ready to be filled, she made her way over to her vanity to begin the most time consuming task of putting herself together. ​Again she took her seat in front of the white table, reached for the make-up selection she had made for the evening and started with her foundation. With the application of each warm color, and a steady eye on the clock she wondered what Joe had planned for them this evening.

She reminisced on the feelings that Joe gave her, and went over the circumstances that allowed Joe to cross her path. ​It was a social party that her boss, Mr. Haden threw twice a year to promote inner office harmony between all of the departments and their clients. Clients who all have money and high standings hob-knobbing to generate more names that Mr. Haden could drop in later conversations to gain looks of awe. Mr. Haden was making his way around the room with Rozlyn on his arm showing off his Cracker Jack lawyer whose streak was now ten divorce settlements. Settlements which led to the total emasculation of the ex-husbands of the women she was representing. She earned the firm a nice tidy sum of two million dollars per case less her fifteen percent win bonus, not including her three hundred dollars per hour wage, and a corner office. ​Mr. Haden led Rozlyn to the company’s most faithful client, Mrs. Francis Wilder, an eccentric old woman who still dresses as if it were 1952. It was too easy to imagine her getting dressed one morning and wearing her bra on the outside of her blouse without even noticing. She was known as being a little lite on top anyway. Rozlyn had already met her three other times, and each time they met Mrs. Wilder was always amazed at how she looked like her granddaughter. Rozlyn always wondered if it was a true statement. The nice thing about having met her again, she could have the exact same conversation she had many times before and not be stuck in the uncomfortable silence trying to make conversation. ​

She secretly knew to herself that while it got her out of an uncomfortable situation, many would think it a sad case that she couldn’t make more of a genuine attempt to make meaningful conversation with such a sweet old woman, no matter how lite on top she is. The big difference between this meeting and the many other times was the guest that Mrs. Wilder brought. This time she brought her Great-grandson, a six foot, blonde haired, blue eyed stud. His eyes never left her as he was making his way through the crowd that magically parted separating the women from the men who were engaging in droll conversation waiting for the perfect opportunity to present itself for the women to offer the men more than their office skills. With the money that these people have it could be said that these meetings were more of a private swingers club than an office party.

Rozlyn made notice that his eyes never met the gaze of another woman in the room. She only noticed because her gaze never wondered from him since he entered the room. ​When he made his way to her, his Great-grandmother introduced them, she thankfully got his name right, Joe a common name that fit him just as right as this suit. She introduced herself out of fear that Mrs. Wilder would not remember her name. Being the perfect gentleman he took her hand and kissed the back of it. She gave him a smile that she always gave to signal she was interested. The one thing that she didn’t see going on across the room was the jealousy raising in Aaron’s face.

Aaron couldn’t see what was so mystifying and awe inspiring about this man who captured the attention of the woman he loved. ​As the evening went on Aaron was clinging by Rozlyn’s side to scare away the new prospect. When the small six piece band began to play, Joe made his way over when he saw Aaron leave to get Rozlyn a drink. He almost made it all the way to her when she decided now was not the time to be coy if she wanted to trade out Aaron for Joe, so she strolled out to him. Again he kissed her hand and led her out to the dance floor. Feeling the eyes of the entire office staff on her while she was dancing with him gave her such a sense of power knowing that no other woman in this office won. ​If you got down to brass tacks, Rozlyn won the silent auction on the newest piece of meat that entered the ring.

Dancing with Joe gave her a feeling of serenity. His arms were strong, but he held her so gently as if she were a porcelain doll. Holding her close to him she had to fight the feeling of trembling in his grip. A feeling she has only felt twice before. Both times ended with not only her heart but her body broken and bleeding on the floor. It was too dangerous to let this feeling come over again. It is always best to tread lightly. Even with her in heels he still had to slightly bend down to kiss her ear. He was even brave enough to kiss her neck twice during their dance. ​But before the song ended there was an annoyed tap that intruded upon their dance from Joe’s left shoulder. Aaron had a look of disgust on his face. Being the gentleman that he is, and not wanting to make a scene, Joe relinquished his dance spot with Rozlyn to Aaron.

Anyone who was there could attest that she was not at all happy with Aaron interrupting the moment that was being shared. Joe walked back to the table leaving her to dance with the agitated Aaron. She remained there dancing with him for only a few moments before she attempted to walk away in disgust over the scene that Aaron was making. ​She was able to pull away but before she was able to cover any distance away from her jilted lover, he grabbed hold of her and pulled her back to him. It was obvious that he was giving her the third degree, but who was he to make any demands of her? She gave him no commitment. They exchanged some heated words, and she was successful in getting away on her second attempt leaving Aaron alone on the dance floor. Aaron stood there on the dance floor with his face flush with embarrassment for a few moments before he walked away with his head down like a whipped puppy.

To Rozlyn’s surprise there was no whispering from the party goers as she left the floor. ​She made her way to the ladies room to freshen her make-up. When she was finally finished and pleased with the final product, she walked out the door and was greeted by Joe’s gallant smile. By the end of the night they exchanged numbers with plans of meeting later. Rozlyn was one of the few last people to leave late. Walking to her car in the parking garage she saw that she was the only one there. The sound of her heels on the concrete echoed against the silence. As she was just about to her car a figure moved from the shadows and leaned against the driver’s door. ​She could tell from the outline it was Aaron. Trying to push past him to gain entry she was slapped across the face, a blow that rocked her head back on her shoulders with a blinding sting that exploded from her cheek to her eye. Before she could clear away the tears in her eyes, something rushed passed her and made contact with Aaron against the car.

She heard a number of blows landing. When she cleared her eyes she saw Aaron limping away. Standing in front of her was Joe. He wiped away the small trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. ​Her white knight had made is appearance. No one had ever saved her like this before. She was always used to having to save herself. That’s what made him exciting. That’s what made her keep him around longer than usual without having her eye on a replacement. She had to be careful with Joe. With Geoff even though she cared for him just as much, the sex made it easy to keep things in line.

There is a fine line between carnal desire and love; a line that could be crossed without even knowing it. It would be too easy to leave with her heart in Joe’s trophy case. ​Feeling the sense of sadness welling up in her throat, she snapped herself out of her thoughts and looked in the mirror. She had her mask almost perfect, and she didn’t have the time to fix it if she mussed it up with her bitter tears that were no stranger to her eyes. She carefully dabbed her eyes with a tissue as not to cause any smudges. Glancing at the clock she saw she had fifteen minutes to finish getting ready before Joe arrived. If nothing other than a great lover, he was always punctual. ​

Touching up her eyeliner, and finishing her lips she decided on wearing her hair down. Taking out the bun she let her hair fall and spillover her shoulders. Taking her curling iron she added a simple curl to it. She walked to her lingerie dresser and dug around until she found her white G-string and slipped it on. She took off her cashmere robe and put on her strapless bra. She walked over to the bed unzipped her dress and stepped into it. She zipped her dress slipped on her shoes and walked to her full length mirror. To see everything she spun a small circle to make sure all her assets looked as they should. Being satisfied with how she looked she went back to her vanity and finished herself with a few spritzes of perfume.

She walked to her jewelry box grabbed her chandelier diamond earrings and matching necklace that Joe gave her took one last look in the vanity mirror and walked into the living room. ​She sat her necklace and earrings on the oak table in the entry way waiting for Joe to help put them on. He will be here any minuet.

She couldn’t help it and walked over to the newest edition to her small art collection. This picture that she had fallen in love with and had to have has become an object of fascination. She mounted next to the mirror that was hanging in the entry way so she could see it every time she entered or exited the townhouse. ​The canvas in the ebony wood frame that held her attention from the first time she saw it showed a beautiful scantily clad woman kneeling on a black and white checkered floor looking into a mirror with her almost mirrored image across from her. The girl on the left had on a mask of a beautiful butterfly with a calm and orderly background. The image of the girl on the right had on a mask of a beast with blood dripping from her fangs with chaos in the background. Both girls have the same smile; devilish on the side of the beast, sweet and desirable on the side of the butterfly. ​

She felt that this picture, that it called to her somehow. There are not a lot of things that have called to her in her life, but this was one of those special times when an object reached out and touched her soul. There was something special, something that this picture held that commanded attention, like that of a beloved idol. It would be too easy to be held captive by the picture and just stand there memorizing every line, and every curve of the women. ​The ring of the doorbell broke her attention away from her idol. She took one last look in the mirror and opened the door.

There was her blue-eyed stud in his black Armani suit with a single white rose in his hands. Looking into his eyes it was easy to see what he thought of her dress. Standing there with his mouth slightly agape she took his hand and led him inside. With a kiss on the cheek he walked into the living room stopping at the new addition. Taking the earrings off the table she put them in, and took the necklace to where he was still standing analyzing the picture. She took his left hand and placed the necklace gently in his palm and stood in front of him facing the picture. He kissed her bare shoulder and secured the necklace. ​

“Which one are you, Beauty or Beast?” Joe asked her as he stole another kiss and wrapped his arms around her.

​“Life is nothing more than perception. So I am neither Beast nor Beauty. I am the mirror. I am what you perceive.” She said solemnly telling Joe more truth than he would ever know.

The End

Copyright by Stephanie Foreman