A Woman Scorned

Lareina’s kitten heels clacked on the white and gold tiled floor as she stepped into the boutique. Her eyes darted between the displays, searching. Garment racks and display tables on the show floor displayed selections from various designer labels beneath the soft light of chandeliers. Hutches on the walls featured an array of expensive boots and shoes. Up front, glass display cases offered an assortment of handcrafted jewelry; hers should have been among them.

“Can I help you, miss?” asked the attendant, a well-dressed man in a button-up shirt and a blazer.

Lareina ignored him, breezing past in brisk stride. “Brady!” she called out in a firm greeting. She spied him trying to slink into the back.

Brady stopped and turned around, fixing his shirt. “Lareina! Good to see you,” he said, plastering a smile on his face.

“Is it?” Lareina asked. “You haven’t been taking my calls, you’ve been ignoring my texts. I’ve stopped by every day since Saturday and imagine that you’ve never been on the property.”

“It’s been a very busy week,” he chuckled nervously.

“You must have a lot of plates in the air,” Lareina told him. “That’s why I’m not mad that you seemed to have dropped one, as long as you make it right. Where’s my display case, Bryan?”

“Well, I talked to the owner, and he’s also been very busy…”

Lareina wanted to strangle the sniveling weasel by his neck. “Brass tacks. Let’s hear it.”

The store manager trailed off. “Look, it just isn’t a good time right now,” he finally said.

“You promised me.”

“I promised you I’d talk to the owner, and I did. I fought for you, but he says the market right now is more about imports than local sourcing.”

That was a load of bullshit. Lareina had done her own market research and found no such thing. It was part of her business plan, which she’d given to Bryan to hand over to the boutique’s owner weeks ago.

Lareina’s heart was beating quickly. She needed this opportunity, she couldn't afford to bite the man's head off, no matter how much of a snake he was. She sidled up a step closer to Bryan, and when she spoke her tone had lost its edge. “I’ve been thinking,” she cooed, “that maybe the problem is that I haven’t made it clear enough how serious I am. Do you think that’s it?” she asked with a cock of her head. Lareina took another step closer. “Do you think that you could let me prove to you just how much I want this?”

Bryan swallowed. “Lareina…Miss Valazquez…the issue isn’t whether or not you…”

The thought of sleeping with this man put bile in Lareina’s throat, but she had to close him. At least she probably wouldn’t have to let him inside of her. He wasn’t a very attractive man, a handjob from her would probably be the hottest thing to ever happen to him, and that she could stomach.

“Give him a tit job.”

Lareina whirled her head back towards the attendant, furious at his audacity. She was set to explode - the cold, calculating part of her brain realizing that it would make an excellent opportunity to browbeat the store into letting her have her way - but the attendant was busy fixing a rack of clothes on the other end of the store. His back was turned to her and Bryan, and he showed no signs of even knowing what their conversation was about.

Lareina furrowed her brow. She could have sworn she’d heard someone behind her say…it didn’t matter. She turned back to face Bryan. “I want this.” She dropped her voice. “And I know you do too. Let’s go in the back and hash out some details.” Lareina rested her fingers gently on Bryan’s chest. He stammered.

Now that she’d had the idea, Lareina was beginning to think that a tit job was exactly what the situation called for. She’d never done it before, neither with a boyfriend nor with a client, but she figured that it couldn’t be hard. The act had always seemed degrading to her, more so than a simple blowjob, and Lareina wasn’t the kind of woman who enjoyed such things. It would absolutely blow Bryan’s mind, though, and that’s what she needed. Bizarrely, the idea of a cock between her tits was starting to get her going.

“I can’t,” Bryan whispered.

“Sure you can,” she smiled.

“I…I have a wife.”

“Why would your wife care about a simple business arrangement?” she asked with a sugar-sweet smile. "I don't see why it would ever even come up."

“I…” Bryan fumbled. She could see it. She had him. In a couple of minutes, he’d be coming on her chest and she’d have all the leverage she’d need to strong-arm him into setting her up. She didn’t need the owner’s approval if she had Bryan on board; he could sell her jewelry from a side case, the owner none the wiser until profits started rolling in. Bryan might be fired after that, for the insubordination, but the owner would keep her around. Why get rid of a product that’s selling well? Naturally, she would claim to have no idea that Bryan hadn’t gotten the owner's permission.

Bryan sighed. “No,” he said firmly.

“What?” Lareina asked, snapped out of her daydream.

“No,” Bryan repeated. “You need to leave.”

Lareina’s brief moment of shock gave way to rage. This worm was turning her down? He was choosing his fat, whore of a wife over her? Who did he think he was?

Lareina quickly changed tact. Her blood pounded but she kept her voice steady. “That’s too bad. I get it. You’re the kind of guy who tells his wife everything. That’s very honorable of you. Inspiring, even. I think I’ll do the same.”

Bryan paused. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I can bear to keep the secret any longer. All those times we met up in seedy hotels, all those things we did.”

“That never happened.”

“Of course it did. And when I show your wife the pictures we’ve sent to each other, she’ll believe me.”

Finding a backbone that Lareina hadn't known he had, Bryan sat his jaw and whispered vigorously, “Do that, and I’ll blackball you from every store in the state. You’ll be lucky to sell your jewelry in Target.”

Did he have that kind of influence? He might, she had to concede. If word got around and poisoned her reputation she’d have no hope of finding another accommodation before her visa ran out, and she desperately wanted to avoid going home.

“It’s time for you to go,” Bryan told her.

She hated him in that moment. She wanted to smack him, to scream at him for having the audacity to turn her down. Instead, she let a delicate smile play on her lips. “Maybe it is. I’ll see myself out.”

Lareina turned and strolled out of the store, the very picture of dignity. It wasn’t until she was in her car that she pounded her hands on her steering wheel and screamed.

She took a few heavy breaths and calmed her nerves after the uncharacteristic outburst. She’d figure something out. She always did.

First, she'd need to ask around about Bryan’s industry connections. If it turned out he didn’t have the kind of reach he said he did, the **** plan was back on. Foregoing that, she’d need to make calls to other stores. Her timetable was short; she needed to get her business off the ground.

Lareina turned on the car and started the drive back to her loft. Distracted by her predicament, she almost didn't see the woman at the crosswalk until it was too late. Lareina slammed on her breaks, coming up just short. The woman's dog leaped back and she herself stared at Lareina with an open mouth. Lareina held up a hand in a conciliatory gesture and, evidently not wanting any trouble, the woman walked off.

The dumb bitch hadn't even bothered to look before she crossed, Lareina thought. She scowled at the woman's back as she led her dog across the street.

Lareina's eyes fixed on the leash and something occurred to her. Maybe the problem with Byran wasn't that she lacked leverage. Maybe the problem was she hadn't been willing to go far enough. What if, instead of threatening him, she'd dropped down on all fours and crawled to him? After all, she'd never have tried to handle a man like her father as she had Bryan.

A good bitch knows her place.

Lareina shook her head. What a stupid idea. Crawl? For a man like him? Or for anyone for that matter. She'd rather die. Lareina drove home in a fouler mood than she'd even been in before.