Forbidden Days (The Firsts) by C.L. Quinn Page B

the phone .
    Her brows furrowed as she left the little case abandoned and went over to pull the double doors of the huge closet back…and revealed a closet filled with clothes.  For a moment her heart clenched as she wondered who all these beautiful woman’s  clothes belonged to, and then she saw that they all had tags on them.  They were new?  On closer inspection, she realized they were mostly her size.  Had Bas had someone shop for her?  She started pulling some of the garments out.  They were all very high quality, a nice combination of casual and dressy.  Some of the jeans were the same brand she preferred herself and had hanging in her own closets at home.  The shoes …they were her size, too.
    It took some work to select something with so many gorgeous choices, but she ended up with a pair of light denim capris and a white loose knit sweater top that was designed to drop off one shoulder, and it was sexy as hell.  That was unusual for her, to dress for sexual impact, but it was how she felt tonight.  She wanted a response from Bas.  And the image in the mirror confirmed that she succeeded.  With high heeled slides, her hair swept up in a loose ponytail falling over one shoulder to just below her breasts, she felt really sexy for perhaps the first time in her life.
     
     
     
    Clean hair, scrubbed skin, fresh clothes that looked and smelled fresh, Park felt her energy and mood rebound.  In the shower she had discovered a huge bruise that covered her from her breasts to belly on her right side.  It had been from when Bas collapsed on her the day they had started Bernie’s transformation.  Although sore right from that first night, it was already healing.   The sweater covered it completely.
    She dialed the 120 on the bedside phone and a woman with a heavy French accent answered with a cheery, “Hello, mademoiselle .”
    “Hi, Cherise?  Could you tell me if Mr. Bas wanted me to meet him after I was ready?”
    “Yes, he is in the conference room.  I will have Eugene come and escort you.”
    “Oh, that’s alright, you could just tell me where to go and I can find it myself.”
    “No, you would not.  It is pretty tough to get to.  Eugene will be there momentarily.  Do you need anything else?”
    “No.  No, I’m good.”
    As soon as she rung off there was a light knock on the door.  The man there was as big as a black bear, just as dark and just as imposing.  But his smile lit up the corridor, large white teeth that were almost perfectly straight.  Reminded her of the Cheshire cat in Alice’s adventures.
    “ Mademoiselle , I am Eugene.”  Like Cherise, he was French, and gave Park an immediate sense of safety.  He was armed, a large automatic pinned to his side like it had always been there.  He had a Bluetooth positioned in his left ear.
    “I am to bring you to him.  Please to follow me.”  To “him”.  Park guessed there was no doubt who was king of the manor.  Bas was apparently not bragging when he told her he was wealthy enough to do anything he wanted.
    She followed Eugene through a series of hallways, some with alcoves and bay windows, a few with actual window seats, which Park had loved the idea ever since she’d read a book called The Velvet Window when she was a child.  She’d always thought that sitting in a bay window seat covered by tulle curtains watching the snow fall would be so wonderful.  Of course, her childhood had held no such moments.  She actually had a small window in her room, but her mother had a piece of plywood nailed over it, so Park only saw the sun briefly when she went from their apartment to somewhere else.   Which was rare.  Park had been home-schooled, what little she’d actually had, and was never sick, so she never had to go out to a doctor.  But they did let her have books, they considered them harmless.  Park learned about the world that way.  She thought it was magical and couldn’t wait until she could go out into it