Chatting With My Best Friend Kathy

Ultimately, Dirk and I select eight sets of lingerie. While he pays, I go back into the changing room. I decide to stay in the piece I like best; after all, I have nothing else to wear underneath.

One last look in the mirror. A dream in dusky pink. It's a shame to have to hide these beautiful clothes under my outer garments. It's only half the fun if you can't show off your new outfits.

I have a daring idea. I quickly pull out my cell phone and take a selfie. I send it to Kathy, my best friend. She'll be wowed.

Outside on the street, Dirk hands me the shopping bag and a few bills. “You head home, I've got something to take care of.”

Instead of spending the money on a taxi, I pocket it and take the bus. In the back row, I check my messages. I can't help but grin. As I hoped, the picture has piqued Kathy's curiosity. She fires off a whole series of questions, ending with “Is that real or AI fake?”

“It's all real. Bought it today,” I reply, which of course triggers a new avalanche of questions. Where I got them and how I can afford them.

Spontaneously, I type “A gift from Dirk.” Then I have second thoughts. Kathy is going to want to know who Dirk is and what I have to do with him. I bite my lower lip. How should I explain this? I can't possibly write that he is my mother's lover and that he buys me lingerie because he was allowed to sleep in my room.

I delete the four words and write instead: “My uncle gave it to me as a belated birthday present.”

“Pretty cheeky to gift his niece something like that ;-)”

My grin widens. I joke around a little more and get so carried away that I claim Dirk is not only generous, but really rich. Handsome and nice, of course.

“Bring him to the club tonight. If he’s such a Prince Charming, I definitely have to meet him.”

Oh. I didn't expect that. I just wanted to show off a little. Kathy and I often tease each other like this. I didn't expect her to take it at face value. Now I'm in a bind. How do I get out of this?

“He's too old for that and I'm sure he's not interested,” I try to fend off the suggestion.

“Why? Just ask him.”

My finger hovers over the screen. Should I admit that I was just joking? On the other hand, why shouldn’t I ask him if he wants to go out? I just have to teach him to tell Kathy that he really is my uncle.

I feel myself blushing as I send my “OK.” But no one can see that here.