Abby Ch. 07 - Cold Feet

Feedback and constructive criticism are very much appreciated and encouraged.

This story contains graphic scenes, language, and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words, and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racism, racial language, violence, rape, or violence against women. Any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

************************************************************************************************************

Chapter 07 - Cold Feet

I woke the next morning feeling a sudden rush of panic as the realization of what had happened yesterday hit me. I rolled over onto my back, covering my head with a pillow in a futile attempt to convince myself that this was all a bad dream. I just needed to click my heels three times, and I would awaken from this bad dream.

"One..., Two.., Three!" I counted out loud as I tapped my heels together.

Nothing.

"Fuck!" I groaned into the pillow before tossing it off the bed, forcing myself to get up and start the day.

Two little voices in my head began arguing over how bad the situation was as I stepped into the shower feeling the hot water wash over me.

"So you bought a dress at a sex shop. Who cares where you bought it."

"That's not what the people in town will say. Especially with Dan's ex being the one spreading the gossip."

"Let them say what they want; it's none of their business."

"You know very well that everyone in this town will make in their business. You were Realtor of the year three years in a row. That wholesome, smiling picture of you on all the billboards and for sale signs on the lawns, do you know what everyone will say now?"

"What?"

"Slut."

"Oh, come on, it's not that big a deal. It's the 21st century, for God's sake."

"Not in half of the towns' goody-goody, better than thou minds it isn't."

"Whatever, let them think what they want."

"Oh, they will, all right. All those showings you do, you don't think the men aren't going to be looking for a cheap piece of ass after hearing about your...."

"Enough!" I roared, silencing them and startling myself as my voice reverberated off the bathroom tiles. I told myself that I was getting myself worked up over nothing. They are too wrapped up in social media or the latest TV binge to care.

Walking to the kitchen, I reminded myself that the anticipation of something is usually worse than the actual thing happening, and I resolved not to worry about this anymore. It was beyond my control now, and I had done nothing wrong. It was no one else's business what I did or where I went, and if people wanted to judge me, let them. I knew the truth, and that was all that mattered.

My cell phone suddenly buzzed on the granite countertop as I prepared my morning coffee. It was Dan calling.

"Good morning, babe. It's early for you to be calling. What's up?"

"Did you go to the sex shop yesterday?" he blurted out in a slightly accusatory tone.

Oh, Christ, it's starting already. I felt my panic begin to rise again, "She told you, I take it? And good morning, by the way."

It was clear Dan was upset at me. I hadn't intentionally kept it from him when we had talked the night before; I had just thought it would have been better to tell him by showing him the dress in person. Clearly, she was trying to use this to stir up trouble between us.

"It would have been nice to hear it from you. What the hell were you doing there anyway?"

"I was looking for a dress for Friday, and Mandy suggested looking there, that's all."

"You know people are going to talk."

"So? Let them. It's not their business."

"Jesus. I know it's not their business, but you know how this town is. They will make it their business to give them some drama in their lives. Are you intentionally trying to hurt your real estate business, Abby?"

"Come on, Dan, of course not. Don't you think you are reaching a bit? People have their own busy lives to live. No one will care about it at all, and even if they do, they will forget about it again by Monday."

"What do you think they will say about me, Abby?"

"What do you mean, you? You didn't go anywhere, Dan."

"I didn't have to. They will think I can't please you or we are having problems in the bedroom. Or even worse, we are some kind of sexual freaks or something."

"Dan, I think you are overreacting. Look, I'm sorry you heard it from her, not me. But I wasn't hiding it from you. I just thought it would be nice to surprise you in person with the dress I bought. Can we talk about this tonight? I have a 9:30 showing."

"Fine." He said dryly, hanging up suddenly.

I finished getting ready, trying again to convince myself that everything was OK and that no one would care about something as silly as me coming out of a sex shop with a bag in my hand.

As I drove to the showing, I tried putting it out of my mind, but one thing Dan had said kept sticking with me.

"Some kind of sexual freaks or something."

I remembered how I had felt watching the videos of those women and how my body had lost all control when he had ordered her to orgasm. I also thought about how turned on I had started to become looking at the wall display of toys in the sex shop, thinking about having them used on me.

"Is that what I am becoming, a sexual freak?" I asked myself silently. How would Dan, let alone current and potential clients judge me if they knew how turned on I had become at the idea of being tied up, lost in a sea of pleasure and pain while only begging for more? The thought of Dan being put off by my newfound curiosity bothered me, but fortunately, I didn't have time to dwell on it as I arrived at the property I was showing.

I parked my car and walked into the older house to prepare for the potential buyer's arrival. It was a little run-down, but the buyers were co-owners of a local development company that specialized in renovating older homes. They had done well flipping several other houses in the area, buying them from older owners looking to move into condos, and I hoped this listing would be just the kind of property they were looking for.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang, and I opened the front door to welcome them in. The two men looked to be in their late 30s or early 40s, well-dressed, with clean-shaven faces and short hair. After a brief greeting and customary small talk, I began walking them through the house, selling them on the property's renovation potential. In the living room, I noticed one of the men looking at me, making eye contact for a few seconds longer than expected, as I highlighted the vaulted ceilings, one of the main selling features.

"Oh, my God. Does he know? No, there is no way he could know." I thought to myself as I tried to focus on the showing.

Walking back toward the kitchen, one of the men looked over at me and smiled, "So, what's the story behind this dress?"

"What do you mean?" I was startled by his comment. How could he have known about the dress I had just bought?

"This window dressing. It looks like it's straight out of the 80s." He said, both men laughing at the dated window dressing.

"Oh," I laughed nervously with them, relieved I had misheard him. "Yes, the property could certainly use some lipstick and paint, but that is your specialty. The foundation is solid, and the roof is new, so there shouldn't be any major renovations required, and I've seen some of the great work you've done with other properties nearby. I am certain that with your expertise, you could also make a nice profit on this."

"I think we should take a look under your dress, though, so we can see what's hidden underneath. You wouldn't mind letting us take a little look, would you?"

"Wh- what?" I stammered in disbelief.

"A look under your deck." the other man said. "Check for dry rot. It's a rather large deck; replacing it would really eat into our potential profit. Are you OK?" He seemed genuinely concerned.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm a little distracted this morning. Yes, of course. Right this way."

We made our way out the back door and onto the lawn. The two men examined the underside of the patio for some time, conferring with each other, seemingly satisfied with its condition.

"Let us think about it for a couple of days. I think there is some potential here, but we will want to run some numbers. We can connect, say, on Monday?" the first man said.

I nodded, anxious to end this showing, feeling as though I was going to have a panic attack.

"Sure. I can call your office then."

"Thank you, Abby. Have a good day. And are you sure you're OK?" the second man said as we shook hands."

"Yes, perfectly. Thank you again for coming."

As soon as they were gone, I ran back inside and locked the door, frantically dialing Dan's number.

"Abby?"

"Dan, I need to talk to you."

"Abby, I'm in the middle of a meeting. Can I call you back?"

"No! Dan, it can't wait. This is important."

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

"The buyers from that development company know about yesterday. I just met them at a showing, and either I was going crazy, or they were teasing me with subtle hints and coming on to me. Could that bitch have told the whole town already?"

"Abby, hang on, calm down. How could they possibly have known? Look, I need to get back to this meeting. We'll talk more tonight. OK?"

As I walked to my car, I considered that maybe Dan was right. Perhaps I was simply overreacting from worrying about the impact of his ex spreading gossip. It would have been bizarre for it to spread to them so quickly.

I breathed deeply, trying to relax, smelling the fresh summer morning air, and decided to take the rest of the day off, relax and sort things out in my head.

***

The day dragged on as I sat around my house, watching TV and replaying the morning events. Had I really misheard them twice? Was I that stressed about people finding out even though I had told myself I didn't care? Maybe I was getting carried away with all of this. It had been exciting exploring this new world of BDSM through the videos, and if I was being honest, the sex shop had been a little exciting as well. But losing composure like that in front of clients and then calling Dan in a panic, interrupting his meeting, was not typically my nature.

I hadn't meant for any of this to upset Dan, and although I was ultimately disappointed that he didn't appear to be as interested in exploring the types of things that I was, maybe he just needed more time to come around to the idea. Surely there would be other parties we could go to in the future if we wanted. It certainly wasn't worth damaging our relationship by fighting about it. He had agreed to go with me, but the reality was that I had practically forced him into a situation that he wasn't comfortable with, and really for what purpose? To satisfy a curiosity? To make me feel like I had lived a little more? It's not like this would become a lifestyle choice.

Sighing, I slumped into the couch, thinking about the meeting last week with Mandy and the brief introduction to Victor. After I had looked at him, he had almost immediately agreed I should come to the party. What did he see that made him suddenly agree with Mandy's suggestion? She had never mentioned him to me before; maybe he was someone new she had met since the funeral. But I had found the way that she had paused slightly when introducing him as "her friend" was curious.

"This is ridiculous," I finally said to myself out loud.

I decided to return the dress tomorrow and tell Dan tonight that we wouldn't go. This had caused too much stress and wasn't worth it anymore.

Sighing as I curled up on the couch, I felt a peaceful sense of relief as I decided to doze off until Dan arrived this evening after work.