The Gilded Mask

Chapter 1

My vibrating phone, made me stop in mid-brush. I gently pulled the soft boar bristle brush away from my hair and gently put it down against the marble counter top of the sink. I grabbed my phone with my other hand to see who it was.

My iPhone flashed the name Jeff along with a photo of him. A little thrill shot through my body.

Gorgeous, dark chocolate hair falling over his laughing emerald green eyes. I captured this photo a few months back when we had dinner. His dimples and that beautiful smile of his could make turn any woman into a bubbling hot mess. He flashed his wicked smile often but not like this. His smiles never reached his eyes. It was a rare photo of him, making it all the more precious to me.

The phone buzzed angrily. Apparently even I was not spared by his charming smile. I quickly slid my finger across the screen to pick up the call and put the phone against my ear.

“Hi Jeff”

“Lily, could you meet me in my office in 10 minutes. Thanks.”

The click of the line disconnecting left me frowning at my reflection. The abruptness of the call was typical Jeff. There were two things in brief conversation, if you could call it a conversation that had me frowning. First he called me Lily and second he wants to meet in his office.

He never called me Lily unless it was work related and we rarely met in his office. It was either he came up either to my private apartment or me down to his and even in my farce of an office on my floor if we had to discuss about work.

I picked up the hair brush again and instead of the languid strokes I used before the call, I hurriedly untangled the soft wispy curls of white-blonde hair. I stepped out of my bathroom into a cozy living room. A chartreuse round shag carpet took up most of the floor with a low driftwood coffee table, a jarringly bright contrast against the dark mahagony wood parquet flooring which matched the shelves that took up all four walls. The lines of the floor to ceiling bookshelves broken only to frame three doors and the plush love seat against one wall. It's the upholstery dyed to match the carpet. At one corner was a tight narrow brassy iron-wrought spiral staircase enough for only one person at a time to climb down. The round mahagony trapdoor was propped up. It has never been closed ever since I moved in. The door next to the bathroom I just stepped out of, led to my nondescript bedroom. It essentially was just a room with a plain queen-sized bed and a tall dresser. I just sleep in it but the living room was my sanctuary.

Instead of walking into my bedroom to change. I walked across to the door on the opposite wall. I untied the loosely knotted belt holding my pearly grey silk robe. The robe slid of my bare skin with a whisper and pooled on the carpet.

Very well. If he called me Lily, I better dress the part.

I pushed the door outward, crossed the threshold, indifferent to the fact that I am naked and I just walked into probably a dressing room that definately was way bigger than Carrie's in Sex and the City Movie. I pivoted on the balls of my feet when I heard the click of the door shutting. Instead of a door. I faced my reflection in the full length mirror. I eyed one of the sculpted rose on the ornated gold frame briefly. With one push, the mechanism hidden behind the frame will release the latch and open up.

Scrutinizing my naked form detachedly, I pondered over what to wear, eventually I gave up and shrugged to myself. Whatever I chose, will make Jeff unhappy. Pivoting once more, I faced the expansive room. The dressing room was designed to compliment my beauty. Ornate and decadent. It was designed to mimic the rooms of Versailles. I hated it but Lily loves it. It was all gold, white and lavender. Even Marie Antoinette would be jealous.

My bare feet sank into the plush pale lavender carpet as I went over to the corner lined with racks, shelves and drawers. Each filled with clothes arranged in colour from light to dark. Every piece of clothing chosen delibarely to tantalise, tease and torment. Opening one of the drawers, I picked out a pale lavender lace thong, choosing to forgo the matching lace bra, I gently pulled out a high-waisted white lace short from a shelf and slipped it on. The shorts was transparent enough that that the pale lavender thong showed. From a shelf, I pulled out a white thin cotton short-sleeved t-shirt and tugged it down over my body. It was cropped and ended just below my boobs. The soft curves of my breasts barely covered under the hem and the pale pink areola pressed against the tight fit.