Free Work of Art ~ the Collection by Ruth Clampett

Let’s meet and talk about it. At least get your feet wet. Then if it isn’t working, we’ll move on.”
    “You promise? You promise if it’s going badly and I suck, you’ll let me walk away?”
    “I promise,” he says solemnly.
    Somewhere inside, I don’t completely believe he’ll let me walk away that easily, especially if he knows my heart’s holding me there.
    We agree to meet for lunch at his home on Sunday, and he’ll have Dylan join us. He assures me he’ll talk to Dylan to update him on everything. I take down his landline number at his house and the address on Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu.
    I’m a bit uncomfortable with the idea of two against one, and I ask if I can bring my roommate, Riley. I mention she’s a designer and always has an interesting viewpoint.
    He agrees and I find comfort in the idea. Riley can try to get a read on Max. Clearly, I’ve lost my objectivity with this man, and Riley will protect me if I’m stumbling down a murky road with no sense of how to get home again.

Chapter Six / Follow the Yellow Brick Road
    If you ask me what I came to do in this world, I, an artist, will answer you: I am here to live out loud
    ~Émile Zola
    B right and early Saturday morning, Riley wakes me up, excited about the day ahead. After coffee and bagels, we head to the salon for our pedicures. Riley gets polka dots painted on top of her polish, but I go for a solid burgundy. My pale white feet have never looked so exotic.
    We hang out in the salon while our toenails dry, since Riley refuses to be seen in public, wearing flip-flops and little rubber strips between her toes. When it’s finally safe, we put our sandals on and we head out to do a little window-shopping before going to lingerie nirvana. Agent Provocateur’s presentation is minimal in a darker, kinkier and way more expensive way than Victoria’s Secret. Once I’ve adjusted to the shock of hundred dollar panties, I’m able to appreciate the intricate detailing in the gorgeous lingerie. Riley convinces me that the real fun is trying things on. So we pick out a number of outfits and head to the dressing rooms.
    I strip down to my plain panties, and I take the first bra off the hanger. It’s an intricate design of satin with lace insets. When I put it on, it pushes my breasts up and out, making my cleavage look even fuller than it already is. I hold up the matching panties over my cotton ones as I look in the mirror. The lavender color is beautiful against my fair skin.
    I wonder what a man would think of me in this outfit. It looks like something sophisticated Jonathan would appreciate.
    I take a sharp breath, surprised I thought of Jonathan in such a provocative way, and remind myself where I am.
    “Hey Riley, what’s the point of spending so much money on lingerie? Anything that looks this good is going to instantly come off, if you know what I mean,” I say over the dressing room wall.
    “That isn’t the point. The goal today is to get you to feel sexy and beautiful. When you wear the good stuff like this, you feel different. I swear it’s true. And once you realize what a goddess you are, the men will naturally follow.”
    “Oh, okay.” As I turn in the mirror and admire how the lavender lace accentuates the swell of my breasts, I admit I’m feeling pretty damn sexy.
    Next I try on the black lace ensemble with the tiny, hot pink bows. It’s so out of character for me that I giggle. This outfit has a garter belt, and I imagine how wicked I would look with black stockings and shoes with spike heels. The bra for this outfit is cut so low my nipples peek over the tops of the cups.
    Max would appreciate this outfit. My breath hitches. Surely it would inspire him.
    I close my eyes and imagine the feel of his hands all over me. Would he pull me against his hard body with a groan, slowly unhook the bra and slide the panties down? Suddenly investing in expensive lingerie makes perfect fiscal sense.
    I’ve saved the virginal