The Education

Chapter 9

"You figured out a costume yet?" Talbot asked, intruding on Eden's break. She lowered her book and regarded him with incredulity over the rim of her glasses."I know, I know...three weeks...blah, blah, blah. But I know you. You'll leave it until last minute then panic and end up going off of something you've created with the help of Pinterest. And a poorer version of the original."

"My costume was great last year!" she argued. "I was a piñata!"

"You were a papier-mâché mess."

"Whatever, I got laughs."

"That what you want?" he scoffed. "Laughs? You should want jaws dropping, eyes popping, mouths drooling, Miss. Kitty."

Eden narrowed her eyes, figuring him and his ulterior motives out. "I'm not being the red room Ana to your Christian Grey."

"Of course not. I'm riding solo. But I do have something else in mind for you."

"Oh really?"

"Do you trust me enough to pick out your costume?"

"No."

He stole her book—an act worthy of decapitation.

"Fine."

She would have given in without his thieving. She really couldn't care less what she wore to her party. It was always more about Halloween than it was about her. And shopping was not her forte.

"Good," he said triumphantly before handing her back the book. "Because I already ordered it."

She narrowed her eyes. "Show me."

"The night of. It'll be your birthday present."

"So I can't exchange it, you mean?" She mocked being hurt, sighing, "You play a cruel, cruel game, Tal."

He smiled and walked away, echoing a loud "Mwah ha ha."

Eden returned to her book after searching for and finding the page she'd lost. Her peace lasted just a minute, though, because her phone vibrated against the table.

Phone call.

Master.

Eden couldn't explain why she didn't answer. Maybe because she'd never spoken to him on the phone before and the first time she would felt like a moment she'd need to compose herself for. Or maybe because she had absolutely no idea what he was going to say, and the unknown frightened her. Or both.

He didn't give in.

When she didn't answer the first time he rang immediately back. This time, she answered. "Hello?"

"I need to see you," he greeted. No hello. No how are you.

"Now?"

"Yes. Are you at home?"

"No, I'm at work."

"You don't work Saturdays," he argued, referring to the rota she'd recently emailed him.

"I do when someone calls in sick."

"That's the kind of thing you need to notify me of, Cherry." He was scolding her. That's how it sounded and that's how she took it.

"I didn't think it mattered since I don't ordinarily see you on a Saturday?"

"Available at all times," he reminded her, slowly.

"Sorry, M..." She stopped herself, remembering where she was, then returned with a whisper, "...Master."

"Where do you work?"