Where She Belongs: Luxury Goddess

She scoffed. "Do you even know what this is?"

"I uh, think it's a Bosworth 96, isn't it?"

"They're bespoke. Do you know what that means? Built to order? We don't just keep things like this in stock."

Cindy felt the panic of failure pound inside her head. "Um, do you think I might be able to order one to pick up later today?"

She curled her lip. "Um, no? It would take like a week."

Cindy's panic turned to fear. The thought of Jessica's rage prickled her skin. She had to try harder. "The thing is, Miss, you see, this racket isn't actually mine. It belongs to a really talented young woman. I mean she's good. Really, really, good, and she really needs it sooner than that."

The girl shrugged.

She took a shot. She still remembered Eleanor's surname. "Do you know Jessica Kingsley?"

The girl was blank. Cindy cursed herself. Eleanor must have married. "I mean, not Kingsley. Her mother is called Eleanor? She has a sister, Alison? They live in Paradise Hills?"

The girl relaxed her face. "Jessica Noble?"

"Yes, her! You know her?"

She spoke with enthusiasm. "Sure. Jessica is great. We went to high school together. She's basically won everything she's competed in since she was like four or something."

"Then isn't there something you can do? She really needs this racket. Please?"

She sighed. "Fine, if it's for Jessica, I'll make a call."

Cindy waited, wringing her hands, pleading with watery eyes for the girl to come through for Jessica.

"Hi, this is Athlétique," said the girl down the phone, "we need a Bosworth 96. No, the customer doesn't know the specs, it isn't for her. Hm mhm, well it's a replacement. We have the original. No, it has to be today. I understand but it's for Jessica Noble. Yeah, that's right, okay, we'll deliver the prototype today. Okay. Good. Thank you."

She hung up the phone. Cindy stared at her, wide-eyed and nervously optimistic.

"Two days. Leave your number and we'll text you when it's ready."

Cindy exhaled her relief. Two days wasn't too bad. This was surely better than panic-buying one that didn't even match Jessica's specifications. She wondered if there was something she could buy her to soften the blow.

"That'll be $450."

Cindy was startled at the amount. "Oh, um, really? Okay, sorry, uh, sure." She opened her cheap handbag and rummaged through old receipts and prescriptions until she found her credit card.

The girl snatched it from her hand and slid it over her reader, tossing it back along with her receipt. "That all?" she said.

"Um-," Cindy searched in her purse again and presented a twenty-dollar bill. She passed it over the counter toward the girl who stared at it. "Just a little something for your trouble."

The girl made no move to take it.

Cindy flushed. "Oh, and this too." She found a ten and a five and added it to the girl's pile.

The girl rolled her eyes and gathered it. Cindy smiled nervously. "Thank you," she said as if the girl had done her a favor by taking her money. She wanted to ensure the girl did not forget her. Jessica needed that racket. What was another $35? It was just 3 hours at Krogers. In total, she would have to work 110 hours to pay off Eleanor's bill. It was manageable. It was worth it.

She left the store and checked her phone as she walked. It was 9.15. Eleanor expected her at 10:00. She still had time, but she would have to be quick. She placed her phone in her purse but was not looking where she was going as she walked directly into the path of an oncoming shopper. A drink spilled and ice cubes scattered.

Cindy backed away to see a tall, dark-haired woman with designer shopping bags over her forearm, clutching a now-empty iced coffee. Her peach Amalfi tank top was covered in a wet stain as the coffee soaked into the expensive silk.

Cindy stared, horrified by what she had done. The woman stared through the darkness of her Versace sunglasses.

"I'm so sorry," said Cindy, bowing her head. "I'm really sorry, but I can't-" She turned and ran.

Tears welled in her eyes. She knew she was pathetic, running from her responsibility. She should have offered to pay for her dry cleaning but the thought of another bill terrified her. Besides, Eleanor expected her soon. She had no time to make amends for her clumsiness. Eleanor was her number one priority. She could not let her down, no matter what.

*

Delicacé was the top-rated coffee shop in town. Cindy knew she could not bring Eleanor substandard coffee. For someone like Cindy, Starbucks was a luxury, but Eleanor would expect better. Cindy knew it would cost more, but that was fine. She could always work extra hours later to recoup her losses. It was far better than risking Eleanor thinking poorly of her.

There was a rainbow of cupcakes, freshly-baked muffins, cookies, and cakes within the glass cabinets. The smells of dough, chocolate, and coffee were sumptuous and nostalgic.

Cindy walked across the black and white diamond tiles and perused the selection as if they were Tiffany jewels. The barista stared at her from beneath her nose. Cindy flushed under her disdain and wondered if she had made a mistake in coming there.

"May I help you?" said the barista, curtly.

"Um, yes, sorry, I would like three coffees please." Jessica and Alison had not technically asked for coffee, but she thought it best to be prepared, just in case.

The barista waited with her hands on her hips. Cindy wondered what she had done wrong.

The barista sighed with frustration. "What coffees?"

Cindy gulped, realizing her mistake. She looked at the chalkboard. She recognized some of the names: Americano, Espresso, Mocha; but what was a Ristretto? Vienna? Con Panna? No prices were listed and Cindy knew enough to know that was not a good sign for her bank balance.

She had no idea what they would want. She knew from high school that Eleanor had expected Cindy to know what she wanted and to go get it. It was doubtful anything had changed.

"Well?" said the barista, impatiently.

She took a chance that Eleanor had been there before. "Um, I'm new to this."

"Clearly."

Cindy blushed. "Um, I'm picking them up for someone else. You, uh, don't happen to know Eleanor Noble, do you?"

The barista immediately brightened at the name drop. "Oh, now I understand. You're Eleanor's new housekeeper?"

Cindy nodded and smiled. She was not really anything, but it was easier to play along.

"Eleanor will have a Spanish latte. The girls usually take a honey vanilla latte and an Italian cappuccino."

"Yes, wonderful. Thank you."

The barista started to prepare the coffee as Cindy remembered Alison's juice. "Um, sorry to bother you again, but Miss Alison asked for juice?"

The barista turned back hatefully making Cindy feel awful for disturbing her work. "Do you mean a smoothie?"

Cindy was sure Alison had said juice, but maybe she was wrong. Was a smoothie different from juice? Had Alison meant to say smoothie? "Um, I think so?"

The barista shook her head. "You don't know much, do you? How did you get this job again?"

Cindy smiled nervously and wrung her hands beneath the counter.

The barista rolled her eyes. "I recommend the strawberry, kiwi, and mango mix."

"That sounds delicious. Thank you."

The barista got back to work and Cindy looked at the selection of muffins. She might have failed with the racket, but she could make up for it with a surprise. Of course, she couldn't forget Alison. She would expect a treat too if her sister was getting one. And how could she leave Eleanor out? No, all three of them deserved something sweet. She waited until the barista had finished her previous orders before asking for three blueberry muffins.

"$95.35," said the barista, sliding the card reader at Cindy.

Cindy gulped at the price but reassured herself she could make it back. It was only around nine hours of work. She entered her credit card and balked at the option for a tip.

The barista stared coldly at her, waiting, expecting.

20% 30% 50% Other? Cindy was embarrassed to choose the lower option under the scrutiny of the barista. Her finger hovered over the 30% until at the last moment a tingle in her pussy directed her to the highest option. Her total came to just over $143. The barista would net herself a good $47 for five minutes work. Not a bad hourly rate.

*

Cindy rang the buzzer outside the gilded gate that led to Eleanor's mansion and waited for a response.

Eleanor answered through the speaker. "Yes?"

Cindy felt the excitement of hearing her voice in the pit of her stomach. She waved happily at the camera. "Hi, Eleanor," she said, "I've brought treats."

"You're late."

Cindy felt her skin prickle. She had driven well over the speed limit to ensure she had arrived with time to spare. It was 9.45. She still had 15 minutes, but she did not dare contradict her. She hung her head apologetically.

"Anyway," continued Eleanor, "you can leave your car parked on the street. I don't want to see that eye sore anywhere near my driveway."

Cindy looked at the dents and dirt on her 2001 Ford Taurus and flushed with embarrassment. What had she been thinking? She could have at least washed it. Eleanor hung up before Cindy had a chance to apologize. A moment later the gate opened.

She reversed her car and backed up along the sidewalk facing the tall hedgerows blocking Eleanor's compound from the street. She took the coffee, muffins and Alison's smoothie from the front passenger seat and bumped her door closed with her bottom. It was a struggle to carry everything in two hands.

She headed up the driveway and the gate closed behind her as if on a timer. It was a long walk across the stone pavers. On either side of her were sweeping lawns of finely cut emerald grass that appeared plush enough to sleep on. It was a pleasant Spring day and Cindy found herself enjoying the walk in the sunshine. Eleanor's home looked like a luxurious Château in southern France and Cindy smiled as she imagined herself on vacation.

A spitting sound startled her daydream. The sprinklers had activated. They spurted spirals of crystal water and Cindy found herself in the crossfire. Instinctively, she ducked her body over the box of muffins and cradled the drinks to protect them from the water. She hurried away from the bombardment but the sprinklers seemed determined to spray her as each one seemingly activated just in time to catch her before she could run beyond them. She made it to the white marble steps that led up to Eleanor's front porch completely drenched, but at least she had saved the coffees and muffins.

She remembered how Eleanor had wanted her to use the kitchen entrance and made her way there, wet and bedraggled. She wished she could stop and clean herself up, but there was no time. Eleanor was expecting her coffee. She checked her shoes would not trail water across Eleanor's floor before gently knocking on the blurry glass of the kitchen door. She waited for someone to answer but when nobody did, she figured Eleanor expected her to let herself in. She gulped and opened the door.

She saw Eleanor and Jessica sitting across the second island, eating breakfast. There was fruit, healthy cereals, juice, glass-bottled water, and tea. She saw paper delivery bags. Cindy was disappointed Eleanor had ordered food instead of entrusting Cindy to bring her what she needed. She shook it off and gave them her happiest smile. Eleanor wore a long sleeve white cotton t-shirt with a modern boatneck that snugly extenuated her figure. Jessica wore a black scoop-neck tank top and a loose-fitting, short-hipped white cardigan.

"Good morning," said Cindy, cheerfully.

Jessica stared, hatefully chewing her all-bran cereal.

Eleanor glanced up from her phone. "Why are you wet?"

"Um, I got hit with the sprinklers on my way here.

Eleanor sighed and shook her head in exasperation. "Coffee?"

"Oh yes, of course. It's right here."

She placed everything down on the marble countertop and placed the coffees in front of both Eleanor and Jessica. Eleanor picked hers up and took a sip, placing it back without complaint. Cindy smiled. It had been worth the added expense. Alison was nowhere in sight.

"Um, Eleanor? Where's Alison?"

"It's a school day."

"Oh, of course, it is. Sorry. It's just that I have a smoothie here for her?"

Eleanor returned to her phone disinterestedly.

"Um, would you like it, Jessica?"

"Do I fucking look like I want a smoothie?"

Cindy's skin and pussy tingled at the sudden outburst.

Jessica pointed at her coffee. "Do you even know what caffeine dose this is?"

Cindy stammered.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Language, baby," said Eleanor.

Cindy wrung her hands. "I'm not sure I understand."

Jessica reddened with rage. "I only take 9.88 milligrams of caffeine in my coffee. That is the optimum amount to enhance my performance."

Eleanor lovingly stroked her daughter's arm. "She's training for the Open, aren't you, baby? She has to be extra careful what she puts in her body."

"I'm sorry, Miss Jessica," said Cindy, letting slip the title without thought. "I didn't know. Maybe I can get you another?"

"What's the point? You'd only fuck it up again."

"Maybe you'd like a muffin?" She opened the box and presented them for Jessica's perusal, nervously smiling, hoping the treat would diffuse her anger.

Jessica stared as if ready to punch Cindy in her face. Cindy felt herself shrink.

"I uh, thought you might like blueberry?"

"Are you seriously trying to fuck with me? I'll beat the fucking the shit out of you."

Eleanor sighed. "Baby, language please."

"Mom, look at this. Look what she's done."

Cindy quivered. She felt like crying. She was confused. She had just wanted to do something nice. "P-please, Miss, I don't know what I did. I didn't want to offend you. Honest."

"I'm on a strict diet of complex carbohydrates and protein. You think I can eat this much sugar? Are you a fucking retard?"

Eleanor shushed her, rubbing across her shoulder. "It's okay, sweetie. I'm sure Cindy didn't mean anything by it," she turned to Cindy, warning her with her eyes. "Did you?"

Cindy shook her head furiously. "N-no, Miss, I'm just stupid. I'm sorry."

"And I'm sure Cindy has your racket. Don't you?"

Eleanor's warning sent a thrill through Cindy's pussy. "Um..."

Jessica stamped her fist on the countertop and Cindy jumped in her skin.

"Please, Miss. It'll be ready soon. Three days at most."

Both Jessica and Eleanor stared. Cindy flushed under their contempt. She felt like she should say something but her throat was dry. She was ready to break down in tears. How had this gone so wrong? This was her worst nightmare. All she wanted was to make Eleanor happy. The failure stung her core.

Eleanor tapped her long fingernails over the marble countertop. Cindy anxiously awaited her judgment.

"This is very disappointing," she said.

Jessica stared with satisfaction at seeing Cindy squirm.

Eleanor continued. "I don't think you fully appreciate what you've done here. Jessica's trainers all agree she has the potential to be the greatest tennis player of her generation. The Open will be her first major tournament. Her preparations should be perfect. Because of you, she will have to train with a secondary racket. How is that fair?"

"It isn't, I'm sorry. Wh-what can I do?"

Eleanor turned to Jessica lovingly. "This has been so stressful for you, hasn't it, baby?"

Jessica smirked at Cindy and nodded.

Eleanor squeezed her daughter's shoulders. "Then you deserve some relaxation time. I think we all do. How does a long weekend at La Maison de Verre sound?"

"So long as I have my own suite. I'm not sharing with Alison."

Eleanor smiled at her and kissed her head. She turned back to Cindy. "You can make the reservations for Friday. Two nights. Three suites. Got it?"

Cindy paled. She knew Eleanor would never stay in an affordable resort. How could she pay for this? She and Pete had tried so hard to never fall into debt. They had deprived themselves of so much to maintain stable finances. She felt the safety net they had worked so hard for being yanked away from under them. This had gone too far. She was not a teenager anymore. She had a job, a husband, a daughter. She had responsibilities. She was too old to live out some kind of twisted fantasy. She had to stand up for herself before she allowed this to degenerate further.

The tingling in her pussy told her otherwise.

"Yes, Eleanor. Thank you."

"Now then," said Eleanor, taking another sip of her coffee, "I think you need a lesson." She stood from her seat and walked around the island.

Cindy gulped at the curve of Eleanor's ass in her form-fitting leather pants.

"'Follow me."

*

Two huge glass cabinets lined the wall beneath a stunning crystal Cressida chandelier. The shelves were stacked with gold and silver trophies and medals inscribed with all manner of athletic and artistic competitions dedicated to Jessica and Alison. Jessica had won tennis tournaments, soccer leagues, freestyle, backstroke, butterfly, and front crawl swimming, baseball, badminton, and lacrosse. Alison had won piano, violin, singing, and harp contests.

Cindy already knew what a talented athlete Jessica was, but she had no idea Alison was such an adept musician.

She backed away from the cabinets and looked up at the wall. There were framed certificates of achievement and professional photographs showcasing Jessica mid pose, furiously striking a tennis ball; and Alison basking in a standing ovation and accepting a bouquet of flowers. In the middle of them, all was a glossy onyx plaque bearing an elevated golden Egyptian Ankh.

Eleanor stood with her thumbs looped through her golden buckle belt, and her back curved exquisitely, pushing her breasts against her tight-fitting Armani tee. "Do you have any children, Cindy?"

Cindy nodded. "A daughter, Sarah."

"Has she ever won anything?"

Cindy thought for a moment. The closest she could think of were the swimming certificates she earned as a child. She once came fourth in the county spelling bee. She flushed at the idea of presenting that to Eleanor as a comparable achievement to what Jessica and Alison had accomplished. She loved her daughter, but Sarah had never been 'talented' per se.

"Not really, no."

Eleanor's pout was a smirk. "Well, as you can see, I'm raising champions."

"I can see that," she said enthusiastically. "Congratulations Eleanor. You must be so proud."

"Yes, my daughters are truly special young women. It hasn't always been easy for me, but you can see for yourself the results have been worth it. Both are set up perfectly to be tremendous successes in life. Of course, they both have natural talent. I merely nurtured what was already there. I allowed them to flourish and become their best selves."

"It's amazing. Inspirational."

"Yes, well," she said, pouting a smirk. "You see now the difference between my family and yours?"

Cindy shuffled uncomfortably. She knew Eleanor was right, Jessica and Alison were objectively better than Sarah, at least by measurement of their achievements. Still, it was difficult to hear.

Eleanor continued. "My daughters must remain in peak condition in order to maintain optimum performance. They can't just shovel whatever into their mouths like Sarah. Do you appreciate Jessica's anger now?"

"Yes, Eleanor. I do."

Eleanor smiled and tapped Cindy on her nose. "Well, you know, I think you'll appreciate my daughters a whole lot more after you've finished buffing each and every single one of their trophies and medals."

Cindy paled. There were so many. It would take her hours. Eleanor glared and Cindy felt herself shrink. She smiled nervously. "Definitely, Eleanor. Great idea."