Lydia woke up, the drool on her face like dew on grass. She had no memory of last night, & she looked at the clock on (her) nightstand: 11:45. Where did the night go? The early morning? She was in bed...and she felt something warm next to her.

oh yeah she thought. that hot goth chick. Lydia sat up in bed, & she felt tired. No: this was not simple fatigue. It was a comedown. Shit. She dropped molly. She had been clean for almost 5 years now, & all it took to tear down this edifice of discipline was alt-chick flirtations.

She looked over at her surprise guest. meh at least she's hot even crumpled in my bed like a pile of black clothes from hot topic.

She found her smartphone on the nightstand. She glanced at her locked screen: 5 missed calls from Billy, Assistant Director of Business Intelligence. Her consulting firm offered various services, & biz intel was the main one. There, the magic happened: corporate espionage; machine learning analysis of social media & forum chatter; & award-winning OSINT investigations led by hyper-focused autists who can spot a sex trafficking ring from a grainy Google Earth photo.

She decided to push the button for the food delivery app instead. She had to attend to her guest, so she ordered some brunch. Then she called up Billy.

"Billy? What? Hmm. Really? OK, just send Layla then. Yeah, I am authorizing a physical investigation. She won't get caught, man. I really want this deal to go through." She hung up. She got up, & looked around the room to take stock.

A sleeping beauty in her bed. The curtains open, the vista from her penthouse unsullied by a cloudy day. An empty bottle of whiskey on the floor. She has good taste at least rye whiskey is not for the faint of heart or did i drink it all?

She went to the kitchen to make some coffee using her French press. As she was waiting for the coffee to boil, she felt a couple of arms slowly embracing her.

"Last night was fun..." she said in a hoarse voice. "I almost lost my voice."

Lydia finally remembered her name. "Megan, did I take drugs last night?"

"Yeaaaah! You ended up taking some molly even though you're straightedge. I thought it was cute. I was the only one who could convince you."

Lydia remembered. The nightclub. Her friend had invited her. It was some models who were partying in her city after a photo shoot. Most of them were not so endowed in the intellect department. Yet Megan was somehow able to get her to roll.

"We didn't use condoms, did we?" Lydia took the water—now boiled—and poured it into the French press.

"Well, you pulled out quite a few times. I didn't know you were trans..." At this, Megan gripped my torso tighter.

"I ordered brunch," Lydia said.

"What did you get?" Megan asked.

"Uh, kinda everything."

"Smart," Megan said. "Well, you can afford it, I guess." Megan released her grip, & she approached the kitchen counter, looking for something. Lydia saw she was wearing this black silk lingerie ensemble with a corset. no wonder I couldn't resist her.

"Could I get some water?" Megan asked. "Then we can go back to your bed & you can put the handcuffs on me. I found them after you passed out," she said with a wink.

Lydia knew what she had to do to restore order to her life, but she also felt the passion in her welling up like a rising tide on Long Island during the stormy months. 

"Help yourself to water in the fridge, I'll be right back." She went to the other room. Then she came back. "Sorry about that. I just had to ask my assistant to clear my schedule for the day & put someone in charge."

"Oooh, you sound important," Megan said, the tone all too content knowing she landed a big fish.

"Eh, not as important as my handcuffs. Come one."

Megan put her water down, then poured the coffee out for them in porcelain cups. "For later. Follow me." Megan took Lydia's hand & guided her back to her room. Lydia felt like she was in her apartment for the first time, being guided by someone who knew this place better than her.