Prep for a little sales party

John follows her downstairs, partly because of her insistence, but also in the sour hope of keeping track of the key. It's in her pocket, right? It's not lost, right?

In the kitchen, she turns to him and sees him staring at her lower body. "Ahem? Look here. I want to see your eyes on mine so I know you're paying attention. I need you to decant the wines through the aerators and then plate the canapés. Make sure to garnish each one with a small mint leaf. When that's done, put the ice into the carafes with the cucumber water, make a batch of coffee and put it in the thermal carafe, and then give the living room a last once over for any stray what-nots you or your sister may have forgotten to tidy away when I told you to earlier."

"Uh, I... Yes, mother." John tried to smile apologetically. She's using her no nonsense tone. Best not to cause trouble.

"Alright, I'm going to go get dressed. And, John, don't get distracted by your little thing, please. This is very important to me."

"My what?" John's nub strained against it's prison.

"Your silly little game thing," she said, "Then again I suppose you don't have it. You have no pocket in that tiny thing to carry it." She complained over her shoulder as she walked out. "I hope your sister comes back with those clothes soon. You look like you're naked from the back. I don't want you turning my sex toy sales party into some sort of French farce."