gym is also impressive. Expensive equipment. Not unusual for Seattle where running outside is often a challenge. Many people own treadmills.
The master bedroom door is also open. I spend a few minutes in the doorway of that room too. Black furniture and bedding. Hardwood floors—the same that run throughout the house. He doesn’t have many personal touches, but there are a few pictures of him with a group of guys on the built-in shelves in the living room. There are no pictures of him with women or kids, but as I move to another shelf, I see some pictures of him at various ages with people I assume are his parents.
I don’t have pictures like that. I sigh as I wander back to the guest room he’s assigned to me. The moment I enter, I feel calmer. Something about it calls to me. I can’t figure out why. It’s youthful, I guess. Even more so now that I’ve chosen the pink bedding. I have no idea why I did such a thing, but I smile as I put the sheets and comforter on the bed.
I head for the bathroom next. It’s also white—tile, vanity, counter. There is no color in this room yet, and when I hang up the hand towel and bath towel, I’ve only added a splash of pink. I smile again. Pink?
It feels… God, I can’t explain it even to myself. If I were a kid, if I had ever been a kid, I would want a room like this with a bathroom like this.
I drop the fluffy pink rug Davis left behind on the floor in the bathroom and then notice there is actually more pink—several bottles in the tub. I lean over to pick up the shampoo bottle.
A giggle leaks out when I see that it’s baby shampoo. What the hell? The soap is too. The conditioner is in a white bottle that indicates it’s powder-scented. I set it down and pick up the last bottle, which makes my eyes widen. It’s also pink, but it’s not for a baby, that’s for sure. It’s hair remover.
My brow is furrowed as I set it back down. Maybe men think that’s how women prefer to shave. There’s no razor in the tub.
I turn to check the vanity and find an assortment of hairbands, a brush, an unopened toothbrush, and toothpaste. I chuckle again when I see that it’s bubblegum flavored.
Either Davis has a niece, his previous girlfriend was a fan of baby-scented items, she was a fan of pink, or he simply has no idea how to buy toiletries for an adult.
Right now, I don’t care. All I know is that I’m dying to get into this tub, soak for as long as I want, and climb into that bed afterward. I usually work six nights a week. The fact that I didn’t work last night or tonight is like a vacation. The kind where I’m not getting paid and I’m not going to be able to pay the rent. I sigh and ignore that problem.
I’m going to have to face my future soon, but not tonight. Tonight, I’m going to relax in this tub while I close my eyes and pretend I’m the little girl of wealthy parents who has her own bathroom and bedroom with fresh linens and towels.
I lock the bathroom door just in case Davis returns while I’m in the tub. After stripping out of my clothes, I climb into the tub and let it fill with warm water. It’s luxurious.
I’ve lived in my studio apartment for two years. It doesn’t have a tub, nor would I touch the floor of it with my bare feet. It’s moldy and gross. I wear dollar-store flip flops when I shower.
I sigh as the water rises over my small body. I don’t care that the products are going to make me smell like a baby, I use all of them. All but the hair remover. I ignore that. If I tried to put that on my legs or anywhere else, I might end up burning myself with the chemicals. I’ll just have to wait to shave until Davis brings my stuff and hope he grabs a razor.
While the conditioner sits in my hair, I wrap it up around my head to keep it out of the water and lean back. If it weren’t for the fact that I can’t seem to block out the men who intend to buy and sell me, this might be the