The Perfect Scandal

Chapter Fourteen

I woke up the next morning stiff, cold, sore, and alone. After my meltdown in the bathtub, Mallory moved us to the same bedroom we screwed in. She laid with me on the bed until I passed out, never ceasing to stroke my hair and murmur sweet nothings in my ear like "good girl". The bed wasn't very comfortable, at least when you laid overtop of the covers rather than under them, but that didn't explain where Mallory was.

It didn't matter when she left, but why she left. Was it too personal? Did she just want to sleep in her bed? Since I was her "slave", did that mean she wouldn't ever sleep in the same bed as me because she's "better than that"?

Whatever it was, it annoyed me.

Slowly rolling off the bed, I glanced around the room for my clothes, unable to locate them. I did find a robe, with a note on top of it. I ignored the note, immediately covering my body with the red, cotton fabric and tying it. It was ridiculously soft and I swore I could drown in the fabric if I really wanted to. Only then did I look at the note.

Good Morning, Miss Holland.

Ever the formalities, Miss Morgan, not like you fucked me and tied me up only hours ago.

By the time you read this, I'm sure it'll be well into the morning, borderline afternoon. Your clothes should be clean by now; check the drier. The laundry room is directly off of the kitchen. When you're clothed, go home and shower. Pack for our trip, as well, as we leave tomorrow. After you're finished, come to the office; there's some paperwork I need to file, and you can assist.
See you soon, my darling pet. xoxo

Rolling my eyes, I left the note in the room, immediately going to the laundry room. It was simple, and a standard laundry room at that. But, sure enough, my clothes were in the dryer, as well as some others. I pulled a basket off of the top of the dryer and set it by the door, piling the clothes in it.

Closing the dryer, I took the clothes basket into the kitchen and sat at the table: beginning to fold everything. It felt like I should do something, anything to repay Mallory for allowing me to stay the night. Necessarily, she didn't have to let me stay. It would have been simpler to call me a cab, and hope that they returned me to my house, where Kalob could have brought me inside.

Shit. Kalob.

I dropped the towel back into the basket, half folded, and grabbed my phone off the island. It was almost dead, a little over 10%, but that didn't surprise me. What did, were the missed calls and voicemails, ranging from, not only Kalob, but my mother and Aurora.

Listening to each, it sounded like Kalob worried about my whereabouts and called my mother to ask if I was there. From there, my mother called Rory, and they both called me. Super. Oh, and apparently Aurora and her boy-toy Josh(?) were getting along great and he took her on a date on Sunday.

Calling my mom, I assuaged her worries, sent Rory a text that I'd stop into the coffee shop after I went home, and dialed Kalob's number, all while finishing the laundry. The dial tones rang eerily, and I wanted for him to answer. He had to, he was worried about me.

"Yeah?"

God, he sounded exhausted.

"Hey."

Kalob cleared his throat. "Hi."

"I'm sorry," I tried explaining, "I didn't have my phone on me and we were drinking-"

"Who's we?"

Shit. Fuck. Dammit.

"I-um."

"Whatever, I'll talk to you later."

"Wait!" I shouted. I couldn't do this anymore. My conscious was eating at me, and I couldn't stand lying to him like this. And what could it hurt, telling him that I "worked" for Mallory Morgan, obviously excluding the sex and the contracts. He deserved to know at least the just of it so he wasn't constantly suspicious.