"Show up in every single moment like you're meant to be there."

Morgan Ann Bennett

It was late, what a day. I didn't do much, basically played tourist. Malcolm showed me around the town, even took me into the city since he had work to tend to. When I asked him about his profession, he let me know he's an entrepreneur. I didn't bother asking any more questions because I'm not sure he was being entirely truthful. I did, however, make him promise me that whatever money he gave me was clean.

Knock. Knock.

A pair of knuckles against the door made me look across the room to see who was there.

"Comfortable, darling?" Asked Malcolm, stepping inside.

He offered me another glass of wine that I gladly took knowing it would put me to sleep.

Malcolm, having finished his glass, sat promptly on the queen-sized platformed mattress. He patted the space on his right of his body and had me sit.

Once I did, Malcolm smoothed his palm over my thigh.

He had been touching me all day and each time, I would sort of flinch. Not because I had PTSD or anything, but because it was weird. I hated how strong he was coming off when I was just trying to get a better feel of him. I told myself if I'm going to do this I want to at least actually like him for him.

I wanted to take things slow, but Malcolm didn't seem like the type. Surely I know what I got myself into, I mean, I can see how it looks, but I wasn't ready to give him any sugar (yet or at all) if that's what he expected.

"I am," I exhaled. "Thank you so much for everything."

He squeezed my hand. "You don't have to thank me anymore, darling. Get used to it."

"Listen, I have work to do in the city, I'll be back tomorrow morning. Chris is close, if you need anything, but don't hesitate to call me," Malcolm explained.

My interest was peaked having heard that name again. It's just a known fact men who had the name Chris were fine, albeit there's some exceptions like Chris Brown and Chris Pratt, but the others — the big three — for example: Evans, Pine, and Hemsworth. Err, make that four now, adding Chris Vaughn to that list.

I put on a smile. "Good night, Malcolm."

"Night, darling. In the morning, we can go shopping, how's that? I'll let you bring your sister, even."

Seeing Malcolm's more genuine side, I smiled more sincerely this time. "I'd love that," I said in a whisper as my voice had grown tired from a long day of using it.

He uttered one last "good night" before making his exit.

I perched my bottom on the sill and watched Malcolm jump into his Escalade and pull out of the driveway.

Sigh.

In two steps I was back to the bed. For once it was nice to have a plush mattress that didn't hurt my back. I also now had a bed fit for someone my size instead of that twin-sized abomination.

Having just folded all my clothes, I took a second to take it all in.

In the next second, I them all over the place and began jumping on the bed, something I hadn't done since my youth. The best part being I didn't have to worry about hitting my head on the fan as the room was grand with high ceilings like throughout the rest of the home.

Coming down from my adrenaline high, I fell onto my back and began to laugh aloud. All I could say and think was "wow."

I suddenly looked around the area rug and hardwood floor at the mess I made.
With a shrug, I told myself that I'd get it in the morning,

Finally under the pearl plush blanket and satin sheet, I shut my eyes.

My only complaint, not being able to kiss Quinn's head and wish her a good night.

~~~

I got up the next morning all excited. The first thing I did, though, was refold and put those clothes away.

Next I showered and got dressed casually. I didn't bother eating breakfast, knowing Malcolm would make sure we stopped for something on the way.

Since the move, I planned on doing more with my social media presence so that meant putting out better content and pictures. I figured there was more than enough usable background and with the extra money, I could buy myself some better clothes and shoes.

While Malcolm intended to spoil me, I wanted to still make some money on my own just in case. Besides, I can't just play lonely house wife, I needed a hobby.

The grin I wore quickly jumped off of my face, though, when I skipped into the kitchen and saw a letter on the refrigerator.

I slowed my pace and threw my arms over my chest in protest. It read:

Sorry darling, busy working. If you need anything here is Chris's number

I put the pain-in-my-ass's number in my phone and then snatched the note off of the refrigerator, tossing it into the trash with a deep sigh.

~~~

"—Thanks so much for watching Quinn," Callie talked from the walk-in closet as she rushed to get ready for work that morning.

After he cancelled our plans, I texted Malcolm. When he didn't reply, after an hour, I decided to drive myself down the mountain. Anything beat sitting in that mansion alone all day. Although, it wasn't the smartest idea, my poor Camry was on her last leg of life.

There was so much Penshaw, Colorado had to offer, and I didn't plan on missing it just because Malcolm was caught up with work.

Callie stood in the mirror above the wooden dresser, struggling to put in her earrings.

Meanwhile, Quinn watched cartoons on the bed in nothing but her Frozen themed Pull-ups. She wore underwear normally, but had been having accidents at night, so we let her wear the Pull-ups to bed.

"Hey, what do you think of Chris?" She asked me at random.

Is this a test?

"I don't think of him," I answered her.

She looked at my face in a double take and began to giggle. "You're blushing," she squealed, tickling my ribs.

"Um, Malcolm said he wants to take you and Quinn on a shopping spree," I redirected, trying to bring myself back together after squealing and laughing so hard.

Callie's eyes went big and were brighter than I'd see them in recent times. That made me happy.

"What?! When?!" she remarked with so much enthusiasm, throwing her apron across the bed.

Unsure, I just laughed at her.

With my head down, I noticed an incoming phone call from Malcolm.

"Oh, this is is him now," I squeaked, answering the call.

I stood to pace as we exchanged greetings.

"—Still, you could've told me that instead of Beast Boy," I talked to Malcolm.

Malcolm chortled. "I'm sorry, darling, but you have to understand that I put a lot of faith in my Godson and know if I'm not around you'll be in good hands with him. Figuratively, of course." He emphasized his last point.

"Of course," I shied away. "No, yeah, I understand."

"Good, I'd like to make it up to you, though. How does dinner at LeRoux sound?"

"Expensive," I joked but was serious.

Malcolm laughed again. "Darling, I know I told you this a million and one times but you really are charming. It's one of the things I like most about you. I'm already in the city, I can have Chris pick you up at seven?"

LeRoux seemed fancy and I didn't have anything so exquisite to wear. Malcolm always wore the finest suits or linens and I didn't want to disappoint. My wardrobe consisted of Revolve, Pretty Little Thing, and Nordstrom rack when I really felt crazy.

"Um," I laughed through my nose mid sentence, "I don't have anything to wear..."

Not even a minute later, Malcolm had sent me another four thousand dollars.

How much money does this guy have, especially to just hand out like this?!

~~~

"—I don't know, Cal, nothing's really speaking to me," I complained to my sister over the phone as I walked through the mall.

"You have over four grand from this man, everything should be speaking to you," she insisted.

"Excuse me ma'am, could I have one green tea-" someone spoke up, making me bring my lips back together.

"One minute, I'm on the phone," I heard Callie tell the customer.

"Callie!" I already knew that was Sherry's seasoned voice in the background.

"Callie, I thought you were on break, oh my God!" I giggled.

I squeezed Quinn's hand and looked down on her. She was so quiet for a change, I thought I lost her. It was just that she was really enjoying that cake batter flavored cookie dough bowl from Scooped.

Standing back up from taking an organic wet wipe to my niece's mouth, I physically gasped out loud when I saw the perfect dress right before my eyes.

Quinn and I snapped our necks to look at each other in silence.

"That's the one?" I asked her.

She nodded, her pigtails flopping with the head movement, and said, "Yup!"

"I gotta go, Squirt," Callie said to me, not sounding happy about it.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I rushed her off the phone. "I think I found something, anyway."

"Pics or it didn't happen!"

"K. Quinn-y, say 'see you later, Mommy!'"

I lowered the phone to hear ear so Quinn could repeat, "See you later, Mommy!"

With a heartfelt giggle, I ended the call.

People passed me by outside of the store as I just stood there, unable to take my eyes off of the piece of fabric.

"It's so beautiful," I whined.

As a handful of customers exited the boutique, I couldn't help but stare them down in something in between jealousy, and admiration. Their bags were so big, so full, I know they spent a lot just because they could. I was never one to compare myself to others, but in that moment, I desperately wished I was one of them, or that we could at least trade bank accounts.

Something they all had in common other than their bleached teeth, little noses, and platinum credit cards, though, was they all had their nails done. Whether they were long, sharp acrylics, or gel-polished, they all sported fresh manicures and something told me women like that wouldn't be caught dead in public without one.
I envied that and made a mental note, looking down at my fingernails that I kept clipped into a short, square shape. I kept a pedicure, that was important as it was hot in Scottsdale so I normally wore sandals. Though, I hated painting my own nails since I was a kid. Makeup was okay, and I love the color pink, but I never got into nail polish.

"Hello," a woman from inside the store greeted me. She was dressed in all black with matching platforms and a scarf tied neatly around her  porcelain neck. Her auburn hair was in a perfectly sculpted up-do that I could only imagine she spent hours trying to achieve.

"Hi," I returned with a warm smile.

"I see you looking at Elvia, you like?"

"Elvia," I let it roll off the tongue. "I love!"

She wore a smile that I knew would go away if I didn't show further interest in the garment.

"Why don't you come in and try it on?"

I snapped out of my trance and tried to be realistic. "Oh, I couldn't," I sighed, shaking my head.

Like I thought, she dropped her smile.

"Well if you can't afford it..." her voice trailed off as she switched away.

My eye twitched at her nerve but I didn't say anything. I didn't have to.

Can I buy it twice, I asked myself in my head. To see, I stepped inside and eyed the price tag.

Three hundred dollars. So yes, I could buy it twice and therefore, with my thinking, meant I could actually afford it. I had to keep in mind that I still needed heels and possibly a bag to go with it. That and something to do with my hair, probably better makeup too as I just had the same old rarely washed brushes and concealer.

The dress on the mannequin was a size medium and I figured it would fit so I snatched it right off and took it to that same snotty lady who was now socializing at the cash wrap with her co-workers.

Her eyes were judgemental, scaling my figure as I approached.

I read her nametag. "Melanie, is it? I'd like to try this on, please," I told her with a quickness.

Quinn entertained the more nicer women behind the Melanie's small back.

Her lips tightened but she obliged. "Right this way."

I stared myself in every mirror of the room as I stood on the platform in the center of the dressing room area.

"Beautiful," Melanie charmed like she meant it.

The black one sleeve midi dress fit me like a glove. It was elegant enough for a sophisticated dinner, but that cutout back was ready for an after party.

"What do you think, Quinn-y? You like it?" I asked her, demonstrating a thumbs-up, down, or in the middle.

All the sales ladies and myself watched little Quinn tap her finger against her chin like this was some hard-hitting decision.

"I love it!" She suddenly erupted, giving me two thumbs all the way up. That's my girl.

I bubbled with excitement at how good I looked.

Modeling the dress for moments longer, I started wondering how I was going to wear my hair. I took one hand and held my long hair in a ball on top of my head.

Another employee, Liane, had put Quinn in a pair of sunglasses and a stunning diamond bracelet.

"More champagne?" Melanie offered.

"No, thanks," I said to her, not taking my eyes off of my reflection.

Melanie stood under me and smized just as I relaxed my posture and exhaled, unsure.

"I think you look... expensive. And hair up, definitely," she mused.

"I'll give you more time to decide," Melanie talked, roping the girls out of the room.

I looked at myself once more with everything all on: the dress, the clutch Liane had got off the floor that she said would pair well, and the red bottom pumps Melanie brought to me, saying they'd be "ever so elegant."

Just as Melanie crossed the threshold, I stopped her, calling out, "I'll take it."

"The dress?" she thought I meant.

I snatched up my Louis Vuitton purse and dug through to see how much cash I had left on me from the last withdrawal.

With a decent stack of hundred dollar bills in my hand, I began to count it, and said, "All of it."

~~~

Nothing said "I'm a lady" like freshly waxed skin, a mani/pedi, and a new wardrobe.

I didn't care much for crazy designs, gems, or stones on my nails so I stuck to a pretty reasonably priced salon and my neutral toned, coffin-shaped acrylic nails still looked amazing.

I just felt like a whole new person, I needed this!

Once showered, I moisturized my body with a shea body butter, and slipped into my matching unmetionables.

Relishing in it, I did my hair before all else, just a sleek low middle part bun for a change. Nothing too out of my element, but put back for "class." Sock buns and braids were never my style but I loved this look on me and knew I'd rotate it into my day to day wear.

As I finished my soft glam makeup look, I started reminiscing. No, not to when the lady at the salon earlier asked one too many times to wax my eyebrows, but to when I was a kid.
It wasn't my mother who taught me to apply blush or bought me my first lipstick. It was Callie who's blue eyeshadow I always dabbled in, and it was Callie who sat me in front of my vanity and told me to love myself.

~

Once I had everything, I descended the staircase.

The way I felt, like a celebrity, I deserved to feel all the time.

"Finally," Chris remarked, turning off the large flat screen.

I didn't dignify him with a smart remark or even an eye roll. There was no way I was going to let the likes of the nephew ruin my big night.
Why was it big? Well I felt like I was entering a new era, springing into a new lifestyle I only ever dreamed of.

It's not even that I wanted to necessarily be apart of the one percent, or have my biggest struggle in life be getting recognized at the grocery store, but I just didn't want to have to worry about anything anymore. Like, pouring a bowl of cereal and having no milk. Or, having to sleep in blistering heat at night because the AC would "run the bill up."

And for once, I'm being taken care of and it feels so good to be relieved of my many responsibilities.

Standing in the foyer, I said, "Well, aren't you going to tell me how good I look, or what?" I spun with my eyes closed.

When I opened them, I saw Chris already at the door, opening it. I liked that I had to look up to him, he had to be about six-foot-two which was perfect.

"Or what," he laughed at me. "Now come on."

His tongue was sharp but I don't think he always meant to come off that way. Though, he was snippy with me from the get for no reason.

Since he wasn't wearing a hoodie this encounter unlike the last, I got to see the tattoos up and down his arms. He was more ripped than I originally noticed, veins pulsing at the surface of his tanned skin.
I swallowed hard. I always had a thing about arms. And hands. His were decorated with silver bands and thick rings. They looked good on him.

There was something about Chris, from his calculated demeanor to the way he talked with confidence in everything he said, right or wrong.

"--Why are you so rawr?" I asked Chris when we got in his Durango, and I loved it.

"So what?" He barely looked at me.

"I didn't do anything to you and you're all, I don't know, grumpy."

"I don't know you," he stated, driving smoothly along the highway.

It's like everything he did was just so cool, like macho man. I don't know. I guess one would call it "swagger." I wouldn't, but someone would. And I liked it about him, I can't lie.

"Well you can get to know me?" I suggested, turning the music down.

"Why would I do that?" he asked through a nasal exhale.

I accepted that I had no other words to say to him so I just climbed in the back for the remainder of the car ride.

Only, it seemed like Denver was hours away when it should just be one.

The silence was killing me, I couldn't take it.

I sat up and spoke to Chris.

"I wanna go out," I said as we passed bars with people in groups along the sidewalk.

"I forgot you were back there," Chris stated in his heavy voice.

"I said I wanna go out," I repeated, climbing back in the passenger seat.

"Will you stop doing that?" he argued with me.

"What are you going to do all night, are you joining us for dinner, Chris?" I hissed his name just to be annoying.

He side-eyed me. "I have plans."

"Like what, are you going out? I wanna come."

"You're going to dinner, that's what you're doing," he put his foot down.

"What, are you gonna be with a girl or something? She can come, too."

"It sounds like you just don't want to be with Malcolm," Chris assumed.

"Shut up," I grumbled, staring out of the window.

He laughed me off and pulled into a parking lot at long last.

I got out of the Dodge all too fast, restless from a long car ride.

"How do I look?" I asked Chris.

It's dumb but I felt like the "wow" factor of my look was gone after waiting so long.

All he did was look me over. His face remained straight but I swore he wanted to smile.

"Nevermind," I huffed, snatching my clutch from the passenger seat.

With nothing else to say to the nephew, I slammed the door shut and clicked my heels along the pavement.

I followed the host, Steve, through the dimly lit restaurant. The hues were blue, I think it was a theme. The quilted leather seats of the booths were blue, too, and private.

It was a nice European bistro that specialized in brunch but I trusted their dinner, Malcolm seemed to have great taste. The chandeliers twinkled and soft jazz played from a live band at the head of the space.

There was a marble-top bar and great views. As I followed Steve further in the back, I looked down at everyone enjoying their meals. Everyone looked so fulfilled, so enthralled.
The atmosphere reminded me of the images and sounds of those "cafe ambiance" videos I searched on YouTube when I wanted peace and quiet to study or fall asleep.

I thanked Steve and took a seat at the curved back booth, away from other tables and guests.

Malcolm waved the host away with a single hand gesture and pulled the glass of champagne from his thin lips.

"Morgan, you look, wow," he complimented, standing before me.

I blushed, scootching into the booth. It wasn't so graceful but the material of the booth wasn't as smooth as I anticipated, and not cold either.

There was a meal in front of Malcolm and I.

"Did you order for me?" I asked him, trying to laugh it off sweetly.

"I did. Chris said you were on the way and I didn't want to wait any longer."

"Oh," I said, lifting the cover that kept in the warmth. "Wh—what is it?"

"(7x) Wagyu steak tartare, Spanish meatballs, and seared scallops, darling," Malcolm educated me.

Okay, it really didn't look or sound that bad, just unfamiliar.

"And here I was expecting Buffalo Wild Wings, or something," I made my date laugh.

He sat beside me and put his arm behind my neck.

"In a dress like that, darling? No way," he mused, squeezing my shoulder. Malcolm then poured me a glass and then watched me drink it slowly.

My stomach growled and Malcolm cracked up.

"Dig in," he pushed, having some steak himself.

After dinner, which was actually great by the way, Malcolm order dessert - another menu item I'd never heard of before. It was triple lemon tart, like a pie, I think. I need to get out more.

I glared out of the window when I heard passing laughter.
A group of three girls sashayed down the sidewalk, singing out loud, holding hands, and being cat-called by guys in their muscle cars who found them attractive.

Since college I hadn't had much time out on the town. Back at home, I really only had Ella, and Callie when she was okay and had a sitter.
The cat-calling used to be annoying, over the top, but sometimes, when done right by someone who wasn't a total bum, it could make you feel good. I longed for the days of staying out until four AM, drinking any and everything, catching a contact high, and taking in the vibes.

"I wonder where they're going," I sighed, chin in the palm of my hand as the other hand used my fork to stab the dessert.

Malcolm was too engulfed in his phone to care about what I wanted.

"Sorry, darling, did you say something?" He asked after a few minutes passed.

"Do you wanna go dance or something after this?" I questioned, squeezing his forearm, waiting for a "yes."

Just as his lips parted, he got a phone call. Putting his index finger in my face, he took it. Unbelievable.

Once Malcolm ended the call, after a million "okay's," he called Steve over.

Steve brought Malcolm the bill to which he put down a card and didn't even look at the total. Must be nice.

"Darling," Malcolm said upon Steve's return, texting someone. "I have some work to do. Chris is nearby, he'll be here in a second to take you home, okay?"

"But-"

"We can go dancing another time, although it's not my scene. Go home, relax, we can do something tomorrow - whatever you want," he promised, lifting my chin.

For some silly reason, I let myself feel upset. It's not like he didn't give me money earlier for a shopping spree, or treat me to dinner. He'd done more than enough, I figured I had to respect his work ethic. But, God, I just wanted to be a twenty-four-year-old and rage.

Malcolm was long gone by the time Steve let me know that Chris was finally outside.

I sighed, wishing the host a good night on my way out.

Not caring to entertain Chris and his smart ass comments, I climbed in the backseat and kicked my heels off.

"How was dinner?" He made small talk for a change.

I yawned. "Dinner was dinner."

"Get used to it," Chris said out of nowhere as he drove off.

"What are you talking about?" I asked him, arms folded.

"Get used to it - Malcolm. He works long and hard, you're never going to have his full attention. Trust me."

I didn't know what to think of that. "So what, I'm supposed to just sit around and wait for him to get bored with me?"

"If you're lucky it'll happen like that, yeah. Don't stress it, though, you're different. Apparently. Maybe he actually likes you."

My head shook as I contemplated everything.

Chris asked, "Do you still want to go out, girls are free before eleven?"

This time I ignored the muffled sounds of house music emitting from the clubs.

"No," I yawned again, curling up in a ball. "I just want to go home. Take me home."