My Prince Charming

Chapter Three Henley

A bed sheet? Perhaps an old pillowcase. No, can't be. The boisterous belly laugh is out of my chest before I can do anything about it. "Are you sure those are big enough?" I ask her, pointing to her large white grandma underwear with faded pink flowers. "I haven't seen a pair of those since the sixth grade. Betsy Lamerer, I believe it was. Not one sliver of her ass was showing. Kind of like the old swimsuits when women weren't allowed to show men a damn thing."

The laugh stops short when I see the look on her face. Shit, this woman is scary. "Would you prefer nylon? Perhaps a tiny scrap of lace that rubs against my asshole all day—yes! That's it. It's so much sexier to have a woman chafing and sweating so she looks pretty for you." I reach my hand down to help her up and she slaps it away. "BUG OFF." The words flare from her mouth like a hot flame of rage and make me feel like an idiot.

"I much prefer nothing to be honest." I can't help the smooth tone of my voice. Consider it a trait of my personality at this point. When your mother has you in Cotillion classes since you were five years old, you learn to speak a certain way and it stays with you no matter how badly you wish it wouldn't. I guess I'm not too angry about it, after all, it does do something wonderful when it comes to the ladies.

I straighten back up and withdraw my hand, tucking it into my pocket because I fear for its safety. She flails about for a bit, but gathers herself up and rights herself. She takes an angry hand and smoothes her disastrous bun, checking quickly that she still has her pen sticking out like a dagger from the heap of naturally blonde hair, knotted and puffy from the recent jolt. "You're vile," she informs me, tugging down her skirt once again then looking down into her crisp white shirt. The top two buttons are undone, and now one breast is practically spilling out of the opening creating an amazing display of cleavage. Her breasts are natural—trust me, I'm an expert.

"Listen," she scolds while she does this little jiggle maneuver as she tugs on the cup of her bra beneath her breast. It falls into place—I don't blame it, she's quite intimidating. Her eyes meet mine again, no surprise registering when she catches me watching the show. "How about I'll keep my 'grandma underwear' on one side of the room and you keep your filthy, over-priced, yuppie, pretentious jeans on the other." Her eyes squint at the end of her sentence as if she's willing the words to have enough power to slap me as they fall upon my ears.

I chuckle and take a step back, lifting my hands in surrender. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I think you might have bought those underwear a few sized too small. They seem to be riling you all up." I glance down at her skirt just to piss her off. "Or maybe you are just a little...frustrated?" My eyes flit back up to hers and I watch as she holds back the tidal wave of hatred I see turning behind them like the sea in a tropical storm.

Finally, a peace washes over her face and I know I'm about to hear a retort that will surely put me in my place. "Maybe if you were better at helping women with their 'frustrations,' you wouldn't be in this predicament. I almost feel sorry for you. Clearly the Cotillion classes I've read about didn't show you how to keep a woman satisfied or how to be man enough to be chosen as a husband." She pushes past me, bumping her shoulder into mine aggressively. It makes my lips curl and my heart race with anticipation of another touch. I turn to watch her leave and she spins around, already knowing me well enough to predict I'd watch her go, "Don't worry, darling, mommy and daddy will fix it for you...like always."

She walks graciously down the hall and into the meeting room, all of her awkwardness so far gone as she seems to channel some inner professional. My assistant is paying far too much attention to the crushed Gatorade bottle, trying not to notice the exchange. "What the fuck?" I ask quietly as I look down the now empty hallway where the beautiful woman disappeared. I practically race down the small corridor after her so I can hear what this is all about.