My lipstick was applied, the mascara perfected, and my nerves were on overdrive long before we were scheduled to leave for work. The bedroom felt more like a cage than a place for rest and relaxation, but I was reluctant to step out into the common area. King might be there.
On the other hand, if I stayed cooped up much longer, I would go crazy. I packed up the designer laptop bag that Bea insisted I needed. I slipped on the kitten heels and looked in the mirror.
"I can do this. I can do this. It will be a great day."
I might as well get this party started.
The men were gathered around the table, enjoying a full breakfast. A brickhouse of a woman poured orange juice from a crystal pitcher.
"Good morning! You must be Teela. I'm Rosie. Father DiMarco said you were a looker. He didn't exaggerate. You'd make a gunny sack look good."
"Good morning. Thanks for the compliment."
It would have been nicer if the men in the house had flattered me, but it still felt good.
