Chapter 57: On the Delivery of Dangerous Objects and Impersonating Trees

Adelaide stared down at the large white box in her hands. She knew what it held. She felt its weight burning holes through her skin. To her, it was the most lethal object on the planet.

It was a Birkin bag.

She knew that the pink designer bag was lying on a bed of crystal white tissue paper inside the box.

She also knew that a card was lying on top of the bag, with elegantly printed words reading, ~For Octavia~.

She knew because she’d been the one tasked with purchasing the bag, wrapping it, and giving it to the recipient.

But the request Raemon had made to her that morning over the phone was not surprising. For one thing, she’d done things like this before for other lucky women. This request was different, however.

It added another lead weight to her already heavy heart, but it was not the first burden she’d had to deal with that week.

Ever since that fateful call, on that fateful morning, Adelaide had known. She’d been forced to acknowledge the truth that she had spent months denying, then days trying to dissolve, and weeks foolishly believing was nonexistent.

He had chosen, and it hadn’t been her.

In hindsight, she should’ve known. There had been a definite change in his attitude. It wasn’t enough for anyone but the people closest to him to notice.

And even then it would take someone with the keenest sense of perception, someone wholly dedicated to looking out for his every need and answering to his every whim.

So Adelaide had been alone in her revelation of Raemon’s changed state. He had thanked her. She had been overjoyed, imagining he had freed himself from the burden of that bitchy little assistant.

Ex-assistant. She was now the Lead Software Design Consultant. God, the words were enough to make her hurl.

To think that Octavia had risen to be so much higher than herself. And to be that much closer to him. That’s what you got for sleeping with the boss, she guessed.

No. She knew that was not the case. It was evident that Octavia’s skills surpassed her own.

Sometimes, Adelaide would look at Octavia’s handiwork and find herself experiencing the same kind of awe she felt when reviewing the latest design idea from Raemon.

That connection the two of them shared bothered her even more.

She should’ve known, given all the times Octavia was in Raemon’s office. The hours they’d spent behind closed doors, with Raemon instructing her that he was not to be disturbed.

She should have seen the spark of ease in Raemon’s eyes whenever he emerged from those lengthy “meetings,” often with Octavia casually strolling beside him.

In her defense, they’d been doing the same thing for months. As his assistant, there was rarely a time Octavia wasn’t in his office with him, with the door locked.

~They couldn’t have been fucking all this time, could they? No,~ Adelaide assured herself.

She knew when it happened. It happened the day he said thank you. That was when the change had come into his eyes, that was when their cold, frozen surface suddenly melted.

He had been in love with that tramp for much longer, she knew. But at the time, she hadn’t dreamed Raemon’s detached but amused regard for his assistant could ever amount to what it was now.

Adelaide stood. She had to deliver the package to Octavia’s address. It was best to get the whole thing over with. Raemon Kentworth was gone.

The man she had loved for seven years, the one she thought could never love anyone, had turned out to have a heart of something other than stone.

He had fallen in love as she had dreamed he would. But it wasn’t with her.

“What is that?” Gracie asked.

Octavia stood next to her before their coffee table. They both observed the object sitting in puffs of white tissue paper.

“A bag, I guess?” Octavia said.

“Why is it so hideously bright?”

“Hey, I like bright colors, makes it easier to find things when they go missing,” Octavia said. “But for this thing… I dunno. I guess this is his idea of a ‘thanks for a good fuck’ gift.”

“I didn’t know they had those,” Gracie remarked.

“I don’t know why he’d give me one,” Octavia said, “it’s not like I did much. He did most of the work. I just lay there and—”

“Spare me the details,” Gracie interrupted.

“My point is, why?”

Gracie’s eyes widened with a sudden revelation. “That’s it! It’s because you fucked the hell out of each other!”

“What?”

A wry grin spread over Gracie’s face. “Octavia, you’re Trixie Goldwater! You fuck the billionaire, and he buys you expensive gifts.”

Gracie chuckled to herself. “It’s like a rich playboy vending machine. Put it in your vagina and out pops a designer handbag!”

“Ha. Ha,” Octavia said dryly.

“I wonder what the correlation is between your intercourse and the presents?” Gracie continued.

“If you got a bag for spending the night with him, what would it take to get something like, I don’t know, a car?”

“How is one whole night the equivalent of a handbag?” Octavia said. “With that exchange rate, I’d have to marry him to get up to a car.”

“So you think there’s more coming?” Gracie asked.

“I hope not,” Octavia said, “because then it will feel like I should actually do something when we’re in bed together. Not just lie there and—”

The front door burst open, and Sierra waltzed through. Her arms were gripping several shopping bags.

“Octavia! There you are!” Sierra said. She dropped the bags on the floor. “Look at all this stuff I got you.”

Octavia stared at the myriad of shopping bags with a mix of surprise and dismay.

“That’s a lot,” Octavia said.

“You need it all, honey,” Sierra said. Her eyes landed on the coffee table. “OH MY GOD!!!”

“What?” Octavia asked, jumping.

Sierra darted past her and fell to her knees in front of the bag.

“Is that…” She started. “Is that a…is that a….a Birkin?”

Octavia was silent for a few seconds. “I don’t know. Is it?”

Sierra’s head shot up to Octavia’s face. “Do you not know what this is?”

“It’s a purse,” Octavia answered with a shrug.

Sierra shot upward. She yelled in Octavia’s face, “IT IS NOT A PURSE!!! IT’S A GODDAMN BIRKIN!!!”

“Okay, fine,” Octavia said, rubbing her ear. “It’s a Birkin.”

“Do you know how hard it is to buy one of these? It’s like there’s only ten of them in the whole world!” Sierra breathed.

“Eleven,” Gracie said, “this one must have gotten lost during the Birkin census.”

“These bags cost more than”—Sierra racked her brain for a good comparison—“than this whole apartment!”

“Renting or buying?” Octavia asked.

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” Sierra screeched. “THERE’S AN ACTUAL FRIGGIN’ BIRKIN IN OUR ACTUAL FRIGGIN’ APARTMENT!!!”

“Figures,” Octavia said, “he would spend a ridiculous amount of money on a post-fuck gift.”

Sierra quieted. “Raemon got it for you?” she asked.

Octavia nodded. “And before you start wailing about how it should have been you, it will be. Take it.”

Sierra’s eyes became so wide they almost swallowed her face. “What?” she managed to say in a hoarse whisper.

“The bag. Take it. It’s yours,” Octavia repeated.

“But…but…how can you just…give it up?”

Octavia shrugged. “I don’t want it. I won’t use it. You should have it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to know how much it’s worth before you give it up?” Gracie asked.

Sierra snatched the bag off the table and clutched it to her chest. “Nope, you can’t. It’s mine now. Thanks!” She danced off with a bright smile and pompous wave.

“Now you’re bribing your own housemate,” Gracie said with a wry grin, “pathetic.”

Octavia shrugged. “It will definitely keep her away from the kitchen knives and my neck. Thanks, Raemon.”

“What are you going to tell him when he asks about it?”

“That it’s in the back of my closet for safekeeping,” Octavia said confidently. “I’d probably never use it anyway.”

“Poor guy,” Gracie said, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“Nah. He’s got what he wanted out of all this. He wanted to spend a shit-ton of money on a gift—he did. He can take pride in that.”

“And I’m supposed to be the heartless one,” Gracie said, shaking her head.

“Whatever,” Octavia said with a shrug. “What should we do tonight? I feel like pizza.”

“You’ll have to indulge your pizza cravings by yourself,” Gracie said, looking at her watch. “I’m busy tonight.”

Octavia narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Doing what?”

“I have a date,” Gracie answered calmly.

“With who?”

“Quentin, of course.”

“What?!” Octavia exclaimed. She scowled. “I was at work with him all day yesterday, and he didn’t say anything. I didn’t even know you guys were talking.”

“Well, we were,” Gracie said. “And I specifically told him not to tell you anything.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s just a date. Nothing more.”

Octavia wiggled her eyebrows. “For now.”

Gracie did not lose her bored expression. “Think what you will.”

“I’m surprised. I’d think you’d be turned off by Quentin’s theater-kid vibe,” Octavia said. “You hate dramatic people.”

“I do,” Gracie said, “and every time Quentin says something like he’s re-enacting Shakespeare, I want to gouge his eyes out.”

“So it must be true love?”

“It’s more bearable when he’s complimenting me, that’s all.”

Sierra walked back into the room. She was wearing a completely new outfit and still clutching her new handbag.

“Quick!” she said, holding her phone out to the two of them. “I want to get some pictures while the light’s still good.”

“Can’t,” Gracie said, “I’m leaving.”

Sierra looked questioningly to Octavia.

“She has a date with Quentin,” Octavia explained.

“The bowler hat dude?” Sierra said, not masking her disdain.

“That’s the one,” Octavia smiled.

“So he’s into women?” Sierra said. “Weird. I was so sure he was into guys.”

“He is,” Gracie said.

Sierra was confused. “Wait—I mean…huh?”

“He’s also into women,” Gracie said. “He’s bi.”

“And now he’s into one woman in particular,” Octavia said, giving Gracie a sly look.

“Remember what I said about gouging an eye out?” Gracie pleasantly remarked.

“But wait,” Sierra said, “how can you two…? I mean…aren’t you, like, you know…not into people?”

“Or animals,” Gracie added. “You were listening, Sierra. That’s good.”

“So how can you date?”

“The same way any other person would.”

“But what about Bowler Hat? Is he…um…okay with you being…um…you know.”

“Quite,” Gracie said, “as a matter of fact, he is exactly like me too. It’s one of the reasons we hit it off. We’re actually in the same asexual chat group. He’s liked some of my posts.”

Sierra’s eyes widened. “You’re both asexual?”

“Yes. Thankfully, I’m not the only asexual person in the world,” Gracie said seriously.

“Imagine that. You and him meeting,” Octavia said. “It’s like fate.”

“Or coincidence,” Gracie said.

“Fate,” Octavia repeated, “and I played a huge role in it. You two will have to name your first child after me.”

“Sure we will.”

“But wait!” Sierra blurted out. “How could they have children? I mean…you two aren’t going to…you know…do it.”

Octavia sighed in exasperation. “My god, Sierra. It was a joke.”

“But still,” Sierra continued. “What will you two…do? On your date, I mean?”

“Watch a horror movie,” Gracie said, “and then dinner.”

“But then what else?”

“Talk, probably.”

“Yeah, but…what then?”

“Frisbee in the park. Scale down buildings. Impersonate trees,” Gracie said. “The possibilities are endless.”

Octavia placed a firm hand on Sierra’s shoulder just before she opened her mouth again.

“Let’s let Gracie get going for her date,” Octavia said. “And then you and I can have chat about what people can do together when sex isn’t involved.”