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wallet and showed her a Platinum Visa card. I’d never had to worry about things such as prices in my entire life. I just bought what I want and used the card Daddy gave me when I was thirteen. Sometimes, I felt guilty about the fact that I had an unlimited amount of credit to spend, but, except for clothes and dining out, I rarely used the thing. Besides, since the children came along, I’d barely bought any new clothes, and dining out wasn’t something I did often either.

“Jesus is that…” Roxie’s eyes went wide as she looked down at the card.

“Fuck me, it is.”

“What?” I asked; didn’t everybody have credit cards these days?

“An unlimited platinum credit card, Emily? I’ve heard about them, but I’ve

never actually seen one.” I could see Roxie reassessing me when she looked up at me.

She knew I was a Thompson, but had she not realized how much money we

had? I felt my cheeks flame and moved away. We were here to buy some new outfits for me to wear when I set my plan in motion; though, she didn’t quite know it yet. I’d wanted to buy her something too, but she kept refusing everything I showed her.

“It’s no big deal. Do you want them?” I lifted a blonde eyebrow and grinned at her with a look that teased. “Go on, try them on at least.”

“Well…,” I saw her cheeks flush and knew I’d won her over to the platinum

club.

“Go on … have the sales lady bring you a pair. It’ll be my treat.” I really wanted her to have them and felt glad when she finally gave in.

She ran off to find the woman with the sour look on her face. Roxie, in her bright pink, form-fitting bandage dress and hot pink heels, obviously hadn’t been to the woman’s liking. Fuck her, I thought. I picked out a pair of shoes for myself. They were black patent leather with peep toes that would be a nightmare to walk in, but they’d look so sexy on my feet.

Another pair caught my eyes, another peep-toe stiletto, but this one had been covered in white graffiti over the black patent leather. Something about it drew me, and I reached for that one while I bit at my bottom lip unconsciously, wondering if I should be so very … extravagant. I looked up to see Roxie twisting in front of a mirror, the gaily colored shoes on her feet. Yeah, I should start my rebellion now, I decided.

I picked up both sets and asked the woman to bring me the shoes in my size.

She looked me up and down, noted the obvious signs of money, and demurred quite respectfully. Bitch.

“Is there anything else you want?” I asked Roxie, as we’d sat on a pair of

cushions in the small shop. There wasn’t much to choose from, but this was one of those places that usually only kept a few things on a rack and brought you the size you asked for. If they had it in your size.

“Not from here. Are you serious? You’re going to buy these for me?” Her face was shocked, hopeful, but I could also see a spark that said she couldn’t accept the gift.

“Look, my family is rich; I can’t help that. But I can make your day, if you’ll let me. I hate spending money on myself, but for you, I’d love to spend the money that I’ll never be able to spend entirely from my share of the family income.”

“Are you sure want to do this?” Suddenly, I knew she wasn’t talking about

the shoes, and I tensed. She hadn’t forgotten then. My heart skipped a beat with anticipation; would she say yes, finally?

“I dream about it, Roxie.” I followed her lead and said it softly, so we wouldn't be overheard. “I feel as if I’ve lived in a bubble my entire life. I want to know what it feels like outside of the walls my family has built around me. You can help me with that. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“I think I understand. I’ve had to think about it a lot, but I think, maybe, I can get you in.”

“A maybe is somewhere. How did it go this week anyway?” Roxie had a new client, a very well-off man who wanted to become her protector. The thing was, Roxie didn’t really need one. She earned a good living as a professional pole-dancer, and her gig at Elmo’s was just to tide her over until the next competition and more prize money.

“He asked to be my protector again.” She sighed, and for the thousandth time, I wondered what it would be like to have sex with a man who paid you for the privilege.

Oh, I knew the rules: the woman has to be agreeable, the woman has to set

ground rules, and the man has to abide by them. But still, the man … owned you, in a way, and that thought excited me more than I’d ever admit to anyone. Even now, just the thought of it had stirred a heat in my blood.

“Are you going to agree?” I knew she didn’t have to, but this client seemed

different. Roxie didn’t usually keep a man at the club for more than a week or two, but this one, he had some thrall over her. Maybe she’d met her match, finally?

“I don’t know. I think, maybe…,” she paused and looked around but there were no answers on the bright white walls, only cubby holes filled with shoes. “I think I might.”

“Oh my.” My eyes went round, but I settled my face when the woman came

back with the shoes I’d asked for. I looked them over, tried them on, and agreed to both pairs. And the pair Roxie had on.

The shop lady looked over at Roxie and then to me. “As you wish.”

Something about that really irked me, and I wanted to demand to know what

the woman’s problem was. Roxie might be showy, but she wasn’t trash. This woman didn’t know how hard Roxie worked for the children’s charity or the hours she spent on drumming up financial resources for the charity. She just assumed Roxie was a strumpet, I guessed, and treated her accordingly. I hated people sometimes.

“I’d like to punch her right in that puckered-up mouth of hers,” Roxie whispered, and I laughed far too loudly.

“I think you’d break your hand on that stone wall she calls a face.” The woman brought my card back, I signed the slip, and we took our purchases to the next boutique.

There, I bought a few skin-tight dresses of my own and some new underwear. Sexy panties and bras were a weakness of mine, and I bought Roxie a few too. She tried on one of the bras before we bought them, and she asked me how it looked before she’d agree to let me buy it.

“I don’t want to see your boobs!” I squawked from behind the door.

Are sens

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