"But can I, Henrik? I think that is the point. Now that I know of his existence I must have him bring me tea and crumpets, and say 'very good miss' and all that stuff."
His laughter fills the large room we have entered. There are two tan sofas with a huge brown suede chair facing a fireplace so big I could walk into it. I now want to live in that fireplace -- provided no one ever starts it up again. On either side of the massive fireplace is a wall of windows overlooking Lake Michigan.
I press my face to the glass and stare at the misty fog and choppy waves below.
"Can I marry your apartment? I promise to let you have visiting rights but I think I want to put a ring on it."
I watch his reflection come up beside me in the glass and feel the vibration from his laughter as he leans on the window.
"For what it's worth Morgana, I did look forward to our online chats. You always made me laugh, not many people can do that. As for marrying my place I thought you said once you were marrying cake. Are you two-timing now?"
I turn my face from the glass, realizing I just smeared lipstick on it. Trying to cover my smudge I rub my sleeve on the window, making it worse.
"I can lead a double life. Cake on the weekends and this apartment during the week. Cake will never find out.”
Henrik nods and pulls a tissue from his pocket and wipes away the smudge from the window. I feel my cheeks flame. First I spill the contents of my purse, then smudge up his window, what's next? Will I accidentally poop on his floor? Can I be any more of a doofus?
He reaches over to cup my chin and brings it towards him. Oh my God he's going to kiss me. Do I want him to kiss me? He accused me of some terrible stuff at the coffee shop and has really screwed with my brain the past few months. It would be wise for me to back away from him and walk out that door. Oh who am I kidding, I'm far from wise. Kiss away Henrik!
I close my eyes and start to pucker my lips when I feel something brushing my chin. Oh, he likes to start slow. Okay I can get into that. There is another brush of my cheek and I moan to help him along.
"Did I press too hard Morgana?"
"Oh no Henrik it felt just right. I..." I open my eyes to see him with the tissue trying to wipe my cheek. Suddenly it occurs to me I have smeared lipstick on my face. He's being gentlemanly and cleaning it up, while I moan and tell him how right it feels. Please kill me.
"The shower is ready Miss. I have ordered your pants and it will arrive while you are cleaning. I shall lay it on the guest bed for you."
I look over to see Winston pointing down the hall. To escape my mortification as quickly as possible without looking back at Henrik, I follow Winston down the hall to a large gray bedroom that has a king sized bed in it. We round the corner to a gorgeous en-suite bathroom. I stop at the door as my eyes gaze upon what can only be described as one of the wonders of the world. It is magnificent.
If I die and go to heaven and have to use its bathroom, it wouldn't come close to the beauty that lay before me. The shower has eight heads. Eight! And I can walk straight into it, no door, no curtain; it's just part of the room. Everything is gray tile and dark brown wood with bright white porcelain sinks.
"I think I just had an orgasm in my pants."
Winston, without a misstep, hands me my fluffy white, soft as a baby's ass towel and says, "Very good Miss. Will that be all?"
I nod, knowing I will be incapable of forming words for a while. He leaves, closing the door behind him. That's when I take off my clothes faster than I ever have before. I only wish I owned tear away clothing like porn stars for this exact moment.
Walking over to the shower I notice the flooring is heated. Nice! Pressing a few buttons I figure out quickly how to get all the shower heads running to the perfect temperature. I step in with my arms raised in a V, and I have the Hallelujah chorus playing in my head.
After a few minutes of conducting an imaginary orchestra and then segue into an air guitar solo I decide to actually clean myself. Picking up a pink sponge (I'm thinking Henrik likes pink) I pour on the floral smelling body wash and get to work. Oh I make sure I use long, slow strokes. Don't want to leave this shower to soon. Need to get nice and pruney.
After finishing up my face and hair I reluctantly turn off the shower. There are streams coming from my eyes, but it's isn't shower water. Staring in the mirror I frown.
"I want to live here, forever."
Heart pipes up, "Morgana you can! Just propose to Henrik. He is the man of your dreams..."
My Brain breaks into the conversation, "Morgana, don't listen to her. Marrying a man solely for the purpose of living in his apartment is a bad idea. While I think it a wise investment to consider a marriage proposal from him, if one should arise in the future, based on his income, there should be more to base your decision on. Like is he loving, caring, would he make a good father, or does he have a violent side, verbally abusive..."
"Oh my God you both shut up! Henrik and I aren't getting married!"
I'm startled by a knock at the bathroom door.