Scarlet Window

Your Career Depends On It -- Part 11: The New Normal

Marie had always known the moment would come. Still, when it arrived, her stomach dropped.

"Pack up," Joshka said, closing his laptop. "Let's get out of here."

"We still haven't done the SteerCo slides," she tried to remind him. Anything to not leave for the hotel room just yet.

He placed his headphones back in the case and packed up the charger.

"We can do those later," he closed the zipper of his bag before he took her coat, holding it open for her to slip inside.

He'd waited long enough. She already knew that. He would demand what was his. And she'd have to give it to him.

Her hands trembled slightly when he straightened the coat around her shoulders with a soft brush of his hands.

She packed her essentials, shoving them into her bag without any regard to her usual system.

Joshka was already waiting, holding the office door open.

She hurried past him, head down, trying to get as much distance between them as possible.

They walked to the elevators in silence, the sound of her heels dampened by the carpet the only sound between them.

She held her visitors badge on the panel and called the elevator. In the sleek black surface she could see his silhouette behind her. Stance wide and easy, phone in one hand.

The doors opened with a soft chime, the car was empty.

She stepped inside first and hit the button for the ground floor. He followed, pocketing his phone again.

When the doors closed, he approached, backing her up until she was trapped against the wall. He leaned down, lips trailing down her neck, breath hot against the collar of her coat.

One hand reached for her hip, the other tilted her chin up, bearing more of her neck.

Her eyes flew up, meeting her own gaze in the mirrored ceiling. She tried to keep her breath steady. Giving him any reaction would only encourage him.

"I've been waiting all day to do this," he whispered against her skin, sucking gently along the line of her jaw.

She averted her eyes, staring at the panel instead, watching the numbers count down from four to the ground level.

He pulled back, thumb brushing over her cheek once before he straightened again, just in time for the doors to open to the lobby.

Covering the doors with his arm, he motioned for her to go first.

She stepped out, lifting her shoulder once to let the collar of her coat brush away the slight dampness his kisses had left there.

A sleek black BMW limousine was waiting by the curb. Their usual driver service.

Joshka hurried past her and opened the back door for her, one hand reaching for the small of her back as she got into the back seat.

He rounded the car and entered from the other side.

The driver pulled out into traffic as Joshka was still buckling up and reaching for the small bottle of water at the seat pocket in front of them.

She tried to disappear in the broad leather seats, bag still on her lap, nails picking at the corner of the leather opening.

Next to her, he screwed the cap back onto the bottle, leaning back with a sigh, elbow resting on the armrest.

The other reached out, settling on the back of her neck.

If the driver saw anything, he didn't pay them any attention.

By the time they headed onto the main street, his thumb was brushing idly against her skin.

She kept her eyes on the city passing by.

The first week of Dusseldorf, she'd tried to opt for a different hotel chain.

When they had left the office shortly after midnight the first day, he led her to a waiting car, accepting no deflection or any other outcome than her joining him.

And now she'd barely had a moment to herself. Shared hotel room. Shared office space. Even lunches were spent together, his hand always finding a reason to touch her. The touch stayed professional when they were in public but grew more invasive whenever it was just the two of them.

The only moments alone were the quick bathroom breaks. And sometimes even those felt stolen.

The first week, exhaustion had been her ally. The case was demanding, already behind schedule and understaffed. And she'd made sure they stayed at the office as long as possible. Somewhere public.

She'd always known that she couldn't escape him forever. This week, his touches had grown more insistent. Bold enough that she feared the client would start to see it.

She kept her eyes on the world flying by outside, trying to take in how different everything looked by day.

Maybe that was the reason it took her so long to realize they weren't headed towards the hotel. And not towards the office either.

The car pulled up in front of the Königsallee and came to a stop by the curb.

"Farthest I can take you," the driver said, turning around.

"That's fine," Joshka said, pulling his hand back from her neck to take his bag.

"What are we doing here, Joshka?" She asked, not yet unbuckling.

"Come on," he said, pushing his door open. "I'll show you."

Part of her felt relieved that it wasn't their hotel room yet, the other didn't even want to try and assume where they were going.

Cold rushed in when she opened the door, stepping out onto the busy street. Stores lined both sides of the wide shopping boulevard.

Joshka already started walking, cutting through the crowd.

She followed, steps hurried to keep up with his long stride.

When it became obvious where he was heading, she slowed, shoulders sinking.

It was one of those high-end stores that sold lingerie and swimwear. The windows were filled with advertisements for valentines day.

Joshka slowed and turned, waiting for her to catch up.

She thought about the last time he'd done this. When he'd sent her the expensive set to wear at his dinner party--only to rip it off her body later.

The memory alone made her stomach turn.

And from the looks of it, he was aiming to repeat the experience.

"Let's head for the office," she said. "This is ridiculous."

He stepped closer again, putting one arm around her shoulders.

"We've worked so hard," he said. "Let me spoil you a bit."

She didn't want to be spoiled. Not by him. And not with something that wasn't meant for her but him.

Someone collided with her shoulder, mumbling something under their breath about people stopping in the middle of the street.

Joshka pulled her closer until their bags collided, setting one arm around her waist.

"We can take a look at the SteerCo slides back at the hotel," his shoulder bumped hers once. "For now, let's just treat this as a small reward."

She stared at the mannequins in the shop window wearing lace bras and stockings. In anticipation of what it meant to have to share a room with him, she'd packed most of her good underwear. The sets. The ones with lace he demanded she wear.

It felt stupid, even now.

"Come on," he said, pushing her forward alongside him. "I want to see you smile in something that's made to be on the floor."

She followed alongside him, eyes scanning the crowd, halfway expecting people to turn their heads and whisper. But everyone just hurried along, caught in their own troubles. To the outside world, they were just another couple of office workers.

He held the door open for her, hand brushing against the strap of he bag as it settled on her back.

A quick blow of heat met them at the entrance before it mingled with the brand's signature scent.

The front of the store showed comfortable nightwear hanging alongside romantic pieces of lingerie. Cream and soft colors dominated the display.

A young shop assistant approached with the kind of practiced smile you learned in customer service.

"Welcome," she turned to Joshka. "How may I help you?"

"We're just browsing," Joshka replied, gently nudging her back to follow him.

He headed for the stairs up to the second floor. Past the swimwear and the pajamas without a second glance.

Marie looked back once at the store assistant, who had already returned behind the register.

Colorful decals promised a passionate valentines day and hefty discounts or bundle prices for marked items.

She followed him up the stairs, trying to look like she belonged.

At the back of the second floor, she could already see the section of darker walls, kept intentionally separate and discreet. The themes were clear: sex, leather, and the forbidden.

In the middle of the section she stopped while Joshka already browsed the first lines. Her eyes settled on leather cuffs, silk blindfolds and a body made of so many straps she couldn't help but wonder how someone was expected to put it on alone.

Joshka was already holding the first items, reaching for the top row of something that looked like dark blue lace and straps.

Thankfully, he seemed to ignore the area that held the more explicit items. Whips. Chains. Leather masks.

Still, the selection in his left hand was growing.

Before reaching the small section of more explicit stockings, he turned to her and pointed towards the back of the space.

"Go ahead," he nodded. "I'll bring it to the changing rooms."

She stared at the small hangers already in his hand, then at the changing rooms.

The area was more secluded. Black curtains and fully closed cabins promised privacy.

With hanging shoulders, she reluctantly approached the small changing rooms.

She picked the last one in the small row and set down her laptop bag without taking off her coat yet.

Joshka followed, spreading his selection onto the small hooks in the cabin. Red. Black. All lace and straps.

He reached for the curtain and pulled it close.

"Start with the red," he demanded.

Outside, she could hear the rustling of his coat being laid out over the back of one of the softer chairs made for waiting.

The tags dangled from the lingerie, still swinging slightly.

Dark Passion.

She stared at herself in the full length mirror, face evenly lit by the lightbulbs placed all around the frame.

The dark circles under her eyes stood out stark against her skin. Make-up could only do so much.

She shrugged her coat off, folded it once and put it onto the small stool in the corner. Her hands reached for the top button of her blouse almost automatically. If she thought too much or too long she might break.

She placed the blouse on top of her coat and slipped out of the white top underneath. Then she fumbled with the bra. Washed out dark green lace. Nothing like the pieces he had selected, but something she'd worn because he'd demanded.

Her nipples stiffened slightly under the cold air when she reached to pick the first bra from the hanger. The small sizing label fit her size. It still didn't make sense how he knew.

Maybe he'd checked her bra one of the many times he'd demanded she take it off. That was the most harmless and logical explanation.

The midnight blue he'd picked looked stunning in the light. Sheer mesh and straps, laced with rhinestones that sparkled when she moved to try it on.

The matching panty was equally intricate, despite the back missing entirely apart from a few straps.

"Marie?" Joshka's voice was close to the curtain.

"A moment," she said, almost automatically, fumbling with the straps of the bra.

Joshka opened the curtain, eyes dragging over the bra, clearly pleased with what he saw. He stepped closer, cupping her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple through the soft lace.

She kept her eyes on the fabric of the curtain, trying to ignore his touch.

"You look stunning," he whispered. "It makes you look royal."

He leaned in, ready to kiss her neck when something buzzed. He froze for a moment, lips halfway to her skin. But the sound came again.

He reached inside his pocket, silencing the call without checking the display, before his hands rose, cupping her breasts. His thumbs brushed over the the soft mesh.

The warmth of his hands made the rest of her feel colder, more exposed.

"Work can wait," he whispered against her neck. "We're busy."

She kept her arms by her side, frozen, letting him lean into her.

"I knew this was going to look stunning on you," he huffed against her skin. "Everything does."

The wool of his coat brushed her stomach as he leaned closer. She forced herself not to flinch.

He pulled back, nodding towards the hooks by the wall.

"Let's see the next one."

She nodded, relieved to be rid of his lips on her neck.

When he didn't retreat, she looked at him, brow raised, hands reaching around her to open the bra.

He finally stepped back, pulling the curtain shut.

Her eyes flicked to the lingerie still on the hooks. She still had three more sets to try. And one body.

But it would only delay the inevitable. The moment he'd make her wear one of the sets in their room.

The red bra looked sultry. With the black pencil skirt it made her look like the promiscuous secretary in some cheap romcom. She gathered her hair, throwing it over one shoulder so the light brown curls spilled over her right breast. Not that anything could help her hide from him.

He brushed the curtain aside, taking in the look of his next selection.

His fingers had just reached for the strap, when his phone buzzed again. Jaw shifting, he pulled the device from his pocket.

He stared at the screen, shoulders straightening.

"I have to take this," he turned, closing the curtain.

She shifted closer, one ear turned in his direction.

"Hey darling," his voice was muffled by the fabric. "Everything alright?"

Her hand clutched over her mouth but she was too stunned to make a sound. It was Anna. Like she could sense her husband's hand all over another woman.

"That's great!" He exclaimed.

She heard his footsteps trail off further.

"I'd love to," he said. "Let me just get into a meeting room."

A curtain was pulled close.

"Alright," his voice was further away now. "Show me the little sunshine."

Another sound joined the space. Too muffled to make out specifics. But it was Anna's voice.

And it was full of joy.

"Look at her go," Joshka said, voice equally gleeful. "Our sweet girl!"

She leaned back against the wall, considering for a moment if she should cover her ears. It was bad enough what he did to her. It was worse what it did to Anna and his daughter.

Joshka kept talking to Anna, or, from the sound of his voice, to Sophia.

She stared at herself in the mirror again. The light hit every imperfection. The red lingerie made her look like someone she didn't want to be.

Using a rare moment where Joshka wasn't close, she reached for her own phone. She opened the messaging app and scrolled to the chat with Thomas congratulations after the keynote.

She'd only replied briefly, hoping it would keep their conversation off slack where Joshka could see it anytime he walked past her screen.

"Hi Thomas," she typed. "I'd like to catch up on the use case. I think it would be great to combine the approaches as a set offer. Would you be free for lunch on Friday? Outside the office?"

She sent it before she could think too much of it. Then she dropped the phone back in her bag and quickly changed into the next bra.

Or whatever counted as one. It had more fabric on the back than the front--clearly made for the easy access Joshka liked.

He was still on the phone, though now off speaker or video call again.

The air in the store was warm enough, but standing there in a joke of a bra still made her shiver once.

She was about to reach for the coat, when a set of footsteps approached. Only after her shoulders had tensed, expecting him to pull the curtain aside to grope her, did she realize that it was the softer click of feminine heels.

They passed her and then stopped a bit further down.

"Excuse me," it was the assistant again. "Could I ask you to--"

"One second!" Joshka interrupted, clearly annoyed. Then his tone softened again. "I have to go, I'll call you later."

Marie could hear a curtain being pushed aside, before Joshka's steps closed in.

"Are you done?" He pushed the curtain aside, stepping in halfway.

"Almost," she said, almost instinctively covering her bare breasts.

"Good," he said. It looked like he was about to say something else, when his phone buzzed again. Just once this time. But it stopped him dead. By the time he had taken it out of his coat pocket, it buzzed again. He shut the curtain fast enough that it opened just a fraction on the other end.

She slipped out of the bra, fighting to get it back onto the hanger before she took the corresponding pantie to put them with the other sets she'd already tried.

The body promised to be more complicated. The cutouts that made it look stunning promised to be a nightmare when putting it on.

With a soft hiss, the zipper of her pencil skirt gave, leaving her to stand only in her tights and heels. She stepped out of the skirt and reached for the body.

In front of the curtain, Joshka's phone buzzed again.

The first time, she missed the proper cutout for the arm, tangling in the soft lace. She tried again--to no avail.

After the third time, she slipped out of it again, shook it once to restore it to its intended form, then slipped her hands through the cutouts for the arms.

It was something only worn to please whoever got to take it off again.

She bit down a curse when something tangled in her hair. Under no circumstances did she want the humiliation of Joshka opening the curtain and finding her tangled and tied up by a fucking lace body.

To her relief, he seemed occupied by another buzz of his phone.

She pulled roughly. Then a bit more, ignoring the pain flaring on her scalp. Hair would grow back. Dignity had become sparse.

Finally, the whole thing gave, sliding over her breasts and down her hips. She closed it with trembling fingers between her legs, staring at herself in the mirror.

Her hair was a mess, curls wild and unruly. But it fit the look. The body hugged the right parts of her body with just the right balance of elegance and provocation.

Joshka pushed the curtain aside, their eyes meeting in the mirror for the fraction of a heartbeat before they dropped to her body.

"Perfect," he said, hand stilling on the curtain. "We'll take all of them."

She nodded, one hand slung across her stomach, fingers brushing the edge of the lace.

"Get dressed," he ordered. "We need to get back to work."

With a nod, she reached for the clips between her legs to open the body again and Joshka closed the curtain.

She dressed quickly, relieved that this part was over now. But she knew what came next. One of these would be on her later. And then on the carpet of their hotel room.

Before she opened the curtain again, she quickly checked her phone for a reply from Thomas, in case his name would show up on her lockscreen. When nothing showed yet, she put the device in flight mode.

Straightening her shoulders, willing her face carefully blank, she stepped out again. He reached for the hangers, took all the items and headed for the stairs.

She followed, adjusting the fit of the blouse into her skirt.

At the register, he put all of it on the counter, then turned towards the racks with the softer sets by the entrance.

In front of a selection of sage-coloured lingerie he stopped.

The bras were romantic. Soft lace. Pastel coloured flowers along the cups.

He traced the tags, then took out a bra before he selected a matching pair of briefs. Elegant and classy. Nothing like the racy thongs he'd chosen for her.

For Anna, she assumed. Something soft and feminine.
He added them to the pile and nodded for the assistant to ring the items.

The assistant removed the electronic tags from the first set, carefully folding it before bagging. When her hands reached the first bra for Marie, she stopped.

"Apologies," she said with a friendly smile, tapping the set she'd already bagged. "These are a different size."

"Yes," Joshka nodded.

Marie could see the realization hit the assistant. The young woman's eyes hit the wedding band on Joshka's hand, then flicked to Marie's empty ring fingers before scanning the selection again.

Sultry and sexy for the mistress. Soft and playful for the wife.

The assistant's neck blushed faintly before she cleared her throat.

"We just make sure it's intended," she said, the smile back in place but more fragile than before. "We do not accept returns on underwear."

Joshka reached inside his coat for his wallet.

"That's fine," he said, giving the assistant a reassuring nod.

Marie could feel the judgement in the assistant's eyes.

The mistress of the older successful man who bought underwear for both his women.

She wanted to shower. Scratch that look from her skin. Or tell the assistant that she hadn't wanted or chosen any of it.