Toy Closet Ch. 05

Bea tugs at the hem of her tight black dress as she stands from the booth we've buckled ourselves into with our new friends -- two women who happily accepted our offer to buy their round, after we told them it was on telling a friend of ours. I am waiting to divulge more information until they get tipsy enough off the drinks our pet at home is paying for. I don't want to shock them but looking at Em and Bea, I surround myself with women who don't shock easily.

Eve, a tall blonde with black boots that match my own, tells Bea how great her form fitting ribbed dress is, feeling the fabric as Bea stands beside our table, tipping her glass back and swallowing greedily so she can empty it and have a reason to buy us all another round.

"Thanks," Bea says and nods towards me, "she bought it for me." We laugh and wink at one another, knowing exactly who paid for it.

"Who wants another round?" Bea asks, loving the opportunity to pass your service onto others. Em, Eve, her friend Rosie and I all raise our hands in eager unison. Bea laughs and scans the menu, "maybe it's a better bet to get a bottle." We nod our heads in agreement and I tell Bea to hand me the menu. I snap a photo of the wine list and send it to you. "Pick one." I write, and wait for your quick response.

Faithfully glued to your chair, you open the message and read the list with fast determination. You settle on a $110 bottle of red and send me your choice, plus the money before Bea can grab the menu back from me. I point out your pick and Bea darts away and recites the order to the bartender who smiles and says he'll bring it over right away.

The wine is rich and full. I cheers with the other women and smile once I taste your choice. They nod along approvingly, savoring the first sips against their tongues, licking their lips to make the taste last. Eve and Rosie thank Bea for the order and she winks at me knowingly.

I take out my phone and snap a photo of Bea and I, holding up the bottle happily. I send you the picture and tell you to send another $100 when you get it, preemptively preparing for our next round.

The buzz makes your lap tremble and you feel dizzy just glancing at the photo. You look away and take a deep breath before bringing your eyes back to the picture, zooming in on each obscured aspect, getting a glimpse into the evening that you're obediently funding.

Once the last silky sips of wine are drained from the bottle, Bea reaches for my phone, snatching off the table before I can stop her.

"What are you doing?"

"Telling him to send more," she says, a wild glee glistening in her blue-green eyes.

"I already did," I say, nudging her roughly in an effort to get my phone back.

"I guarantee you didn't ask for enough. You never do," Bea rolls her eyes before writing out her request to you and pressing send.

The buzz sets your skin on fire and you clench, thinking it is a preamble to a larger shock. When no other jolts come you pick up your phone and read the message -- "$500, now. We're waiting. xx Bea."