Charity Ends with Inebration

Bailey wholeheartedly hated Judy with every fiber of her being. She would continue to hate her every second the underwire of the corseted gown she was wearing continued to cut into the underside of her breasts. The woman gave absolutely no thought to Bailey's comfort.

She tilted her head as she inspected her reflection in the full-length mirror. Twisting from side to side, Bailey had to admit the garment looked good on her. The layers of sheer skirting floated over silver pumps with crystal heels. The corseted bodice did an excellent job of maximizing her assets. The sapphire and diamond pendant that nestled in her cleavage glistened like a fallen star against her creamy skin and the palest of blues dress with its silver piping.

Leaning forward to examine her makeup, Bailey paused. The entire composition had washed the green from her irises until her eyes were almost as silver as her heels. It always amazed her how her mood and the colors around her had such a dynamic effect on her eye color. She felt like a chameleon that could blend into any background, which would explain why she could flip from Bailey Gallup to Lori Laker like a light switch.

A knock at the door reminded her that her time was not her own once again. Judy had committed her to attend a charity event with Marcus Reyes. Marcus was a top-notch plastic surgeon, but his real value was as the eldest son of a prominent Dallas family to Judy. The family earned a fortune in the petroleum industry, but Judy had her eye on their MGM Conglomerate holdings. They might have enough share in MGM to convince CEO Meadows to shorten the thirty-day hiatus he had forced The Happy Homemaker to make.

Why Bailey ever thought time off equated to a vacation was beyond her. Judy filled the time with offline social networking engagements. If there was one thing Bailey disliked more than playing Lori Laker online, it was playing Lori Laker in person.

She cleaned her lip line and applied a gloss as another knock sounded. This one was louder and more insistent. Bailey debated giving him a lesson on patience but thought better of it. The sooner she started this date, the sooner she could end it. If she were fortunate, he would do the dirty work for her.

Bailey passed a hand between her and the mirror, watching as her persona changed from uncomfortable girl next door to ice princess crossed with Mother Teresa. With the third knock at the door, she was ready to make her appearance.

Marcus Reyes wore a black tuxedo with a bolo tie and cowboy boots. If Bailey hadn't been wearing three-inch heels, they would have been the same height, but where she was slender to the point of appearing delicate, Marcus was stocky as if he was built to withstand a tornado.

"We're late."

"My apology. Shall we go?" Bailey smiled through the desire to tell him off. No one showed up on time to these events.

Marcus led her out to his limo and helped her inside. Once they were on their way, he offered Bailey a drink, which she turned down. There would be plenty of opportunities to drink later. Even if she took a small sip at every toast and ate only the bare minimum, she would consume more calories than Judy usually allowed her in two days when they were streaming. Marcus did not abstain. In the twenty minutes it took to arrive at the gala, Marcus had two drinks and had started a third, which he knocked back before leaving the car.

"I don't usually drink like this," Marcus apologized. "But sometimes, it's good just to let loose."

"I see."

But she didn't see. Drinking was something she did as part of the socially expected norm. She preferred her video games or boxing gloves when she needed to let loose.

The party venue was lovely—crystal chandeliers, white table cloths, flower arrangements that could rival a Rose Bowl Parade. Champagne fountains, petite desserts that resembled great works of art. The people attending were the type who had never eaten ramen because they couldn't afford better or who knew the value of coupons and double discount days. The staff were black and white clones of each other, standing at attention, not smiling, trying to blend in with the furniture as much as possible. Bailey knew from experience how much their feet would hurt by the end of their shift.

Marcus escorted her through the crowd, stopping to say hello to acquaintances and refill his glass. Sometimes, he remembered to introduce her, but she was free to ignore the conversations for the most part. What she couldn't ignore was the way his hand that had started at her waist gradually dropped lower and lower. At first, she corrected him or moved the hand higher, and each time, he would give her an apologetic smile.

By the time dinner was served, he had given up the pretense of respecting her boundaries. His hand slid up her thigh as she lifted a spoon of soup. Had she not been in her Lori Laker persona, she would have decked him then. Instead, she finished sipping the soup with one hand while bending back two of his fingers hard enough to get his attention even through his alcoholic haze. Like any well-mannered lady, though, she did it with a smile.

She excused herself from the table to escape to the bathroom after that. She needed a timeout desperately. Bailey touched up her makeup and wished she had something for the headache forming behind her eyes. Why did Judy put her in this position time and time again? Didn't she understand how exhausting it was to fight off the attentions of a rich guy who either wanted to share her fame or to show off to his friends that he could date a one-off celebrity. Alternately they thought Judy was some kind of human trafficker and paying for Bailey's dinner bought them access to her body?

It was time to call it a night. Bailey called for a car.

An unsteady Marcus stood outside the ladies' restroom waiting for her.

"Where did you go?" His words slurred over each other, and he had difficulty focusing on her face.

"To relieve myself, Mr. Reyes. However, I've called a car. I'm going home."

Marcus grabbed her arm, his fingers biting into her arm. "No, you're not. You can't lead me on all evening and then bail on me. You're sister, she promised me. She said you'd give me a night I'd never forget if I got your Little Miss Whatever show back online."

"Judy would never say that." They were sisters. Bailey had sacrificed everything to keep Judy's dream alive. Besides, this guy was drunk. There was no way she would take his word for anything that happened, but this kind of thing had to stop happening.

"Ask her tomorrow. Tonight you and I are getting better acquainted."

Marcus pulled her along until Bailey could jerk her arm out of his grasp. "No, I'm not going anywhere with you." She didn't realize how loudly she said it until she saw people turning in their direction. She dropped her volume. "Marcus, you're drunk, and I'm just not that into you. Can't we end this evening on a civil note?"

"What? Are you too good for me? You think I'll talk to Meadows if you leave now? I don't give away favors."

Bailey looked around, aware of how quickly the media could magnify out of the ordinary. She was a pro at that very thing.

When he grabbed her again, she knew there would be a public scene if she didn't control the situation, so she leaned into him and whispered, "Let's find a private corner to work this out. What do you say?" She let her eyes make promises she never intended to keep. Marcus bought her act. She was able to lead him to a deserted employee corridor before shaking him off her.

"Get your stinking hands off me! Who do you think you are?"

"I know who I am, do you? Know your place, woman." Marcus went to grab her again but missed and caught a fist full of skirt instead. He looked down as if realizing what he had in his hand. With a smirk, he gave the skirt a hard yank.

"No!" Bailey cried out as the fabric rent, leaving her partially exposed from the waist down.

She tried to pull the skirt back from Marcus, but he seemed intent on finishing the job. He pulled back again while twisting wads of fabric around his forearm. More of the billowy blue skirt separated from the corseted top. Bailey saw a gap where the underlining, which thankfully Marcus didn't grab with the gauzy top skirt, tore away to reveal her underwear. If she waited much longer to act, she would be naked, and he would be on top of her.

Channeling Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris, Bailey went on the attack, sweeping Marcus' legs out from under him before falling on top of him and letting out all the frustration that she had been holding in all evening. Fists pounded into Marcus' flesh even as he begged her to stop. Amazing how much power one slender woman had over a man who outweighed her when she had years of training and righteousness on her side.

Bailey was intent on beating him senselessly when she heard someone whistling from down the hall. She had enough sense to know getting caught in such an awkward position would cause trouble, so she grabbed Marcus by the hair and slammed his head into the floor one last time. Let him try to have her arrested for assault later. She would keep the remains of her dress as proof that he wasn't innocent either.

Gathering the skirt fabric in her arms, she got up and walked away from the oncoming whistling and Marcus' painful moans. She checked doors along the way, hoping to find somewhere to assess the damage to the dress and fashion coverage from the skirt that would get her from the corridor to the car that awaited her.

And then, she was having a long talk with Judy.