Buying Thyme by TJ Hamilton Page B

effortlessly, outlining his package in front. He eyes me up and down as he comes out of his walk-in closet, smiling and shaking his head at the same time.
    “I love that you aren’t afraid to flaunt your body Miranda. It’s very sexy. You should be proud of it and I have to say, I never get sick of the sight of it either.”
    If only he knew how the real me felt. I would much prefer to be in sweatpants and a t-shirt, but this is the working me . The consummate professional while in the presence of a client, and always mindful of what they want me to be. Tench has no idea that this isn’t the real me… and I’m not about to let up on his fantasy either. Problem is, I’m not sure if he would like the real me? Maybe he is right, do I do this to remind myself of the distance that I must keep from the real me? Maybe this is my coping mechanism. Be someone else that I’m not, so that the real me doesn’t get hurt.
    “Come on hot stuff. Let’s go choose a movie for tonight.” He says, hand out stretched waiting to meet mine.  
    I accept his hand and he leads me back down the stairs to a room left of the bar area. Tench flicks a light on, and I instantly notice that it’s a cinema room. Of course! Here I was picturing a couch and a TV in the lounge area. Instead, there are two rows of couches. The first row consisting of one big, long red velvet couch scattered with cushions. The second row made up of six wide recliners. Tench walks over to the far end and switches on a light, flooding an entire snack bar in the back corner, complete with a vintage popcorn machine. My eyes are wide with amazement. I’ve never seen anything like it before.
    “You like?” He says, already knowing the answer by the dumbfounded look upon my face. 
    I try and pull myself back together again.
    “You obviously take your movie watching seriously!” I say in an attempt to hide my astonishment.
    “So what would you like to watch tonight? What genre do you prefer?” Tench asks, picking up an iPad from the snack bar.  
    He begins to slide his finger across the screen, flicking through the countless titles that whiz by on its display.
    “Ah… I like anything really. I prefer the classics. Anything from the ‘80’s or ‘90’s is definitely amongst my favourites.” I manage to re-enter the conversation.
    “Me too! I love the Psycho-noir era of the ‘90’s. They don’t make movies like that anymore.” Tench says with his boyish grin, excited by the thought of his favourite movies. “Here, take this with you and we will choose a movie while we make ourselves some pizza.”  
    I take the iPad from him, wondering why Mrs Oktar isn’t making pizza. Does Tench usually cook for himself? I couldn’t imagine someone like him whipping up a storm in the kitchen. We make our way over to the other side of the mansion to the kitchen. Tench pulls out a stool for me to sit on. “Would you like a glass of wine, or a beer… or maybe something harder?”
    I look up from the iPad upon hearing the word harder and raise an eyebrow at him.
    “Harder?” I ask cheekily.
    “Miranda! You sexy thing. I could just about have you on this bench if you keep that up.”
    “Promise?” I smile.
    Tench smiles back, “Later. First… dinner.” He moves over to the digital control screen on the wall that Mrs Oktar used earlier to control the music. Pressing a button, he leans in. “Toni. Can you grab Miranda and I two… ah…” He looks over in my direction, shrugging his shoulders. I shrug back. “…Coronas with lime thanks Toni.”
    “Sure thing boss.” I hear Toni’s amplified response from the digital control. Tench presses a couple more buttons on the touch screen. Bob Marley’s smooth reggae beats spring to life through the kitchen’s speakers singing Is This Love.  
    “I’m going to make you pizza the real way! New York style. The way my mum taught me.” Tench says while shaking his ass around to the music.  
    I can’t help but laugh