"Fuck!" I wiped at my ruined mascara with a wet cloth for the umpteenth time.

How do women manage to do this every day?

I had tried applying it with my eyes shut, results ranging from crooked lines nowhere near where they should be to coming close to skewering my eyeball on the sharp pencil tip. I fared no better keeping my eyes open, once again coming close to poking my eye out, and the rest of the time having my eye tear up so badly I had black streaks running down my cheek. I threw the pencil aside with disgust before wiping the tell-tale proof of defeat off my face. "I guess you will just have to be a natural beauty tonight, sweetheart." I winked at my reflection in the mirror.

The rhythmic banging that had been coming from the other side of my bedroom wall for the better part of an hour picked up pace. The moans became high-pitched shrieks, which signalled that it would soon be over.

I really need to move to a quieter wing.

Making my way across the room was both painful and tedious; the heels I had chosen for the night would without a doubt have been considered torture devices in most rational minds. My shaved legs were itchy, but at least the coarse net stockings grazing my skin brought slight relief as I teetered along. It was little wonder that most women were in a permanent state of PMS. The candlelit living room was a sharp contrast to the bright lighting of my bedroom as I stepped out, so I shut the bedroom door behind me luxuriating in the soft glow and heavenly citrus scent.

Getting dressed had taken a lot longer than I had expected, and I could practically hear my full-length antique mirror snickering at my visage; I plumped my bust with both hands, the corset's built-in padding making my breasts look impressive enough to make me turn sideways for a profile view.

Hmm... not bad... might just have some fun with these babies after the party.

I chuckled as I gave my bosom a playful squeeze before stepping out into the hallway, literally bumping into one of the housemaids.

"Ohh... I'm sorry, Master Jeremy. I uh... I wasn't looking where I was going." Her face was flushed, yet I doubted it was with contrition of knocking into me. "I uh... I wasn't expecting anyone else to be up here," she stammered, her eyes travelling over my body in what she obviously believed to be an unobtrusive manner.

"Clearly... judging from your earlier loud squeals." I winked at her and grinned, hoping that would put her at ease. "It is Carla, right?"

She nodded and smiled, and I could've sworn it was a mask of genuine shyness she wore. "Yes, I'm Carla, Master Jeremy."

"Please, we're practically the same age. Call me Jeremy."

She flashed me an uncertain smile and nodded.

"I have a little task for you, Carla. If you are up for it, naturally." I opened my door and gestured for her to step inside, noting the slight hesitation. My brother, Edward, exited from his room next door just as she stepped inside.

"Picking at my scraps again, little brother?" He flashed me a sparkly white fanged smile that was about as sincere as the smile on a crocodile.

"Not at all, big brother, feeling sorry for the poor waif. Bringing her inside so I can thoroughly disinfect her for her own safety... and mine since she needs to be handling my food." I shut the door before he could respond.

"I uh... I uh... maybe I..." It was pitiful how nervous she looked.

"Relax, Carla. All I want is for you to help me with my make-up. You do know how to apply make-up?"

She nodded.

"Good, now get over here and help me with my mascara... I just can't seem to get it right." I rolled my eyes dramatically in an attempt to put her at ease.

She giggled as she took the pencil from me and shoved me gently into a chair. "Maybe you're having trouble with your mascara because this is not mascara?"

"It's not?" I was genuinely puzzled.

"No, Master Jeremy. This is just regular eye pencil." She bit at her bottom lip in obvious concentration. "Shall I get my make-up for you, Master Jeremy?"

"No, thank you, Carla. I guess the regular eye pencil will have to do. Can that be used to make me pretty?" I flicked my black bobbed hair with my fingers and batted my eyes at her.

"Yes, you're already very pretty... handsome," she said, a genuine blush gracing her mocha coloured skin.

She giggled all the way through doing my make-up, which she did well and in no time at all. I thanked her, making a mental note to buy her something pretty the next time I was in town. So I started my treacherous journey down the stairs, taking the utmost care to not tumble prettily painted headfirst into the crowded ballroom below.

▲▼▲

A horn blasted outside. 

I checked my thigh-high white stockings for runs, and slipped my feet into my white stiletto-heeled boots, admiring the snug fit around my calves.

Damn, girl! All that working out has been so damn worth it. 

The horn blasted again. 

The full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door had never seen me looking this good as I checked my dress, making sure that the dangerously low bodice would hold my ample bosom in place as I had forgone wearing a bra for the night. Admiring the coiffed bun I had finally perfected after weeks of practice, I placed my band over my hair, its silver attachment bobbing slowly above my head as I moved. 

The horn blasted again, longer this time. 

"Bloody fool! I am worth the wait," I mumbled as I applied a second coat of shimmer-n-pearl lip-gloss to my lips and pouted in the mirror for effect. "Perfect!"

A tiny giggle of excitement escaped me as I slipped my arms into my coat even though it was a warm night, I grabbed my bag and wings before rushing out the door.

Cover up, sexy girl. He's going to be so surprised.

I could hardly believe how daring I was going out in public dressed as scantily as I was. It felt exciting.

The car horn blasted again just as I stepped out of the house. 

Jack sat drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as I got into the car. "What the fuck took you so long?"

"Good evening, baby. How you doing? Damn! You look smoking hot tonight. I love what you've done with your hair," I mimicked in a voice dripping with sarcasm before leaning over to brush my lips across his cheek. 

"Yeah, whatever. You're late. You know how important this party is to my career, Trisha." 

"Yes, I guess you're right. Sorry," I replied meekly, masking my hurt as I turned to look out the window. 

Jack was right; most of the important career moves in his field were achieved at parties and business dinners with colleagues and clients. Whatever transpired in the boardrooms and behind closed office doors were mere formalities, the final step in sealing deals that were made at social gatherings. Knowing that he was right did not lessen my disappointment at his lack of interest in my appearance. I had gone to great lengths to keep my costume a secret from him. I had spent weeks trying to find the perfect angel costume, one that would excite him. It hurt that he hadn't even asked to see it once. 

"You look good, baby." I ran my fingers slowly up along his thigh, the red leather feeling slick and smooth to the touch. I detected a smile from beneath his red latex half-mask as he turned to nod at me. 

My excitement mounted as we drove up the long drive toward the white mansion on the hill owned by one of Jack's most influential clients. The array of cars parked in the allotted parking area was impressive. They made Jack's Mercedes look like an average middle-class car. The valet parking attendants were all dressed as British soldiers, dashing in their bright red coats and black tricorns.

It felt like stepping into a fairy-tale as we walked up the steps, grand white pillars draped in fairy lights to light the way. Once on the landing, I stopped to look around at the lavish estate, noticing for the first time that the grounds surrounding the house were in complete darkness, save the strings of fairy lights draped around lampposts and trees. It was a truly magnificent sight to behold.

Dear Lord, I know that you don't owe me anything and I don't deserve much, but yesssss... I could get used to this. 

"Trisha? You're dawdling. We're already late." Jack's irritated tone snapped me out of the spell the place had cast over me.

"Sorry."I smiled wanly. 

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