Too Clever by a Mile Ch. 02

Chapter Two:
An Isolated Event:

Cathy stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Steve wanted her to help out at a small dinner party he was planning for the evening. He explained that technically she'd be more a server than anything else. He'd invited another woman. A woman he needed to help him with some of the charitable work he was involved with, and that she, that was Cathy would act as the go between carrying small trays of snacks, drinks, and plates back and forth from the kitchen and the temporary bar that would be set up in the corner.

He explained she shouldn't feel at all demeaned or debased by this since she should know how he felt about her. He explained he thought this was a small favor to ask, but if she decided she preferred not to he'd understand and she could take the night and go to a movie or something.

Of course, she agreed. She'd fallen in love with him.

Though Steve was the man whom she mistakenly thought would be her next victim, she'd come to the conclusion she'd do just about anything for him. In fact, all things considered, she was a little disappointed she wasn't allowed to do more. He seldom took her to bed, though when he did the experiences she had were just this side of Heaven. She'd put up with some of his odd preferences like the ribbon thing hoping he'd let her become a bigger part of his work at the hospice. Though he was always making suggestions and getting her to do doing things to change her appearance she didn't care, she just wanted to do things for him. He made her happy, and she wanted to reciprocate. He hadn't said he loved her yet, but she was sure he did, and one day soon he'd say it.

She couldn't explain why she felt the way she did; it had crept up on her so slowly, one day he was this geeky fool she intended to rob, the next he was her Prince Charming. Cathy walked over to the bed to look over the outfit he'd laid out for her.

It was wrapped in several small boxes. She started opening each one, going from the top to the bottom. The first box contained undergarments. There was no brassiere, but she hadn't expected one. Steve had expressed a strong personal dislike of what he called 'women's shoulder harnesses'. There was, however, a beautiful white camisole. She slipped it on. It was tight fitting but not uncomfortably so. It was translucent and trimmed with eyelet lace; quite feminine.

She liked the camisole immediately. Though she still felt a little troubled about her breasts, she was confident it was only her imagination, but they somehow seemed to look and feel smaller. She knew they were certainly firmer. Steve didn't seem to mind. He's repeatedly complimented her on her small well shaped body, and that included her breasts.

There was a pair of white panties' slightly ruffled around the edges of the pants legs, and they had a small bow in the back near of base of her rear end. These were made of silk and gave the impression of translucency but in fact were not. The elastic waist fit comfortably. She slid them on. They felt sexy and naughty. They were a tiny bit tight at the inseam. The cleft of her vaginal lips puckered through slightly, that hardly mattered, since the panties would be concealed beneath whatever dress he had bought for her. However, the tightness did make her feel a little self-conscious; a gentle reminder of her sexuality.

She opened the second box. Looking at its contents she knew this was why he hesitated earlier and commented that she might feel a little humbled. The second box contained a black maid's uniform. It was really quite pretty, naughty and sexy looking without being cheap. It was made of a black silken type of material but not silk. It had a low delicate sheen. Stunningly black, with short sleeved, capped shoulders, and with stiff, heavily starched, white cuffs that sat comfortably at not quite mid bicep.

The top of the garment fit loosely. It had a thin cloth belt with a tiny black buckle. The blouse portion buttoned up the front with the tiniest black pearl buttons, and ended at the top with a beautiful white peter pan collar, again like the cuffs stiffly starched. Though the collar was a little tight and a little uncomfortable; when she looked in the mirror she immediately forgot the discomfort. As far as maid's attire went it was, if not exactly stylish, certainly pretty.

The skirt portion was equally attractive. Slightly pleated it fell to just above the knee. Beneath the dress was a small white apron. She slipped it around her waist, just above the thin belt, and tied it off in a neat bow.

The third box certainly contained her shoes and nylons. She opened it expectantly. She wasn't surprised. Inside was a pair of shiny black leather shoes. They were high heeled, but she could tell they weren't more than perhaps two inches at most. Accompanying the shoes were a pair of white ankle length nylon socks. She slipped into the socks. The tops were trimmed in lace. She folded them over, and then slipped into the shoes. Each shoe had a small black strap in the front. She tightened the straps and stood up. They were a little tight, maybe a little uncomfortable, but she recognized that had more to do with their newness than size.

Cathy walked back to the mirror and looked herself over. She was adorable. If this didn't excite Steve then nothing would. She supposed she should feel a little put off; what, being asked to play maid for his guests at his dinner party, but she wasn't doing it for them. This was for him. If he liked this; God knew he liked other odd things; then she liked it too.

She stepped into the bathroom to prepare her hair and her make up. She knew the rule with regard to her hair. She liked it tied back in a neat but small pony tail. She brushed and combed it into the appropriate shape, tightened it in place with a small rubber band, and finished it with a pretty white bow that covered the rubber band.

She applied her make up just the way he liked; earth tones around her eyes, black mascara to make her already long lashes look even longer, a tiny tad of eye liner, just a smidgen of pink on her cheeks, and a hint of pink lipstick. She put her tinted contacts in.

If there was one thing about herself she despised it was her mousy dark brown eyes. Shit brown, that's what they were. All the really beautiful people had blue, or green, or hazel eyes; not her, she had old dark brown eyes, good for nothing nobody notices brown. They weren't even that good. Still a young woman she was on the borderline between good old fashioned myopia and a genuine need for bifocals. She'd always hid the problem well. Steve had caught it though. He saw it right away. It wasn't till she saw his contact lenses and his regular glasses that she knew why. His eyes were as bad as hers.

He'd also picked up on her hair right away. Ever since she could remember she's played the rinse game. Just a little light rinse and her ugly duckling dark brown hair turned to a beautiful dark flaxen with blond highlights. Actually is had always been a lot more than just a light rinse; it usually took hours at the beauty parlor, or what her father used to call the 'ugly shop.' Talk about the mean ugly man who had been her father. She'd almost forgotten her mission in life. Damn you Steve! I thought I knew who I was before I met you.

Yes, he'd seen the dark brown roots. He'd persuaded her to get it back to her natural color. What a jerk. He was clever that one. He knew just what to say. He said he liked the dark brown better. It was something of a first; the first time a guy, any guy, had ever said things about who she was in her natural state and liked it. Everybody else, and she meant everybody, wanted her to be something else. God she hated men. They were cold, selfish, indifferent, and sexually self absorbed. All of them; but then there was Steve. He was so odd.

She just couldn't get Steve off her mind, not ever. He liked her. He just liked just her, like how she really was! He had his peculiarities; his had his kinky preferences, but they were silly kinky not mean or hurtful kinky. She didn't think of him as some kind of weird fetishist, but he had his own ideas. She didn't like them much actually, but she pretended to like them because he did. When she got him down the aisle she'd change some of that, when she got him down the aisle.

She stood back and checked herself out. The uniform, the hair, the make-up; she was convinced she couldn't look better. Of course, she'd rather be wearing a cocktail dress and be a direct participant in the dinner, but if this was what Steve wanted, then tonight, this is what he got.

A Pretty Girl Gets a Present:

A short time later Steve drifted into the bedroom. He walked in, and was immediately delighted at the way she looked. Cathy looked the classic young serving girl; nothing of the supposed woman of the world who'd first crossed his path weeks before.

She'd come a long way; her at first feigned interest in the children at the hospice had become real. He believed her pretended interest in him had become at least a little more genuine. Most of all, she'd foolishly let her guard down and allowed him to persuade her to turn virtually all her personal and financial assets over to his lawyer. She didn't know it yet, but at the moment she didn't own anything, not even the pretty little maid's outfit she had on.

All her property, all her stocks, her land holdings, treasury notes, even that little sports car she drove was gone, all gone. When he decided to expose her for the fraud and liar she really was she'd be completely devastated. The question was when. He wasn't even sure at the moment if there would be a when; that would be largely up to her. She just tied him up in knots.

He smiled as he crossed the bedroom floor, "You look adorable."

Cathy did a little pirouette, "You like me this way?"

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek, "I love you this way, my little house maid. There are just one or two little things."

She looked up, she was a little suspicious about the house maid comment, but thrilled otherwise, "What's wrong?"

He took his hand and ran it through the front of her hair, "I want to see something different here tonight."

"Like what?" she asked.

"I don't know, maybe we could comb some if down in a little wave that brushed across the front of your forehead." He studied her face. "Yes, you'll be even prettier with some of that thick luscious hair cutting across your forehead. Now hold still a second." He took a couple seconds to pull a little hair from her tight pony tail and comb if across her forehead.

Not knowing what to say or do, she stood perfectly still.

Steve stepped over to the bureau, got a pair of scissors, and before she could resist he snipped a little off the front of her hair. He fluffed it a little and combed it down again, "There, that's perfect. You look like Audrey Hepburn."

Cathy didn't know who Audrey Hepburn was, but didn't say anything.

Now let's lose the contact lens."

"My contacts?"

"Yes, let's go with glasses. I have a pair. From his pocket he pulled out a pair of dark brown wire rimmed glasses. "Now get in the bathroom, lose the contacts and put these on."

"Steve I..."

He stood very erect. He pointed to the bathroom, "Now my little maid."

Cathy was taken a little aback. She slipped into the bathroom, removed her contacts, and put on the glasses. She looked in the mirror. In two simple moves Steve had made her look ten years younger and fifty times less attractive. She looked just like what he'd called her a few seconds earlier, a little housemaid, a mousy little housemaid. Then again, the hair across her forehead did look kind of sexy in a sweet sort of way. The contacts would've been better though.

She walked back out. Her eyes were wide and wet. She was on the verge of tears. "Steve I'm not sure I like this."

He saw the confusion in her face, and her eyes looked brighter. Were those tears starting to well up? That he figured was probably good, in a few hours she might have a reason to cry. He smiled and replied, "I love you this way. You know what. Little Ginger back at the hospital would love it too."

Cathy thought back on the hospital and all the poor sick children. They were so sad. None was sadder than little Ginger. She was a plain little thing, dark hair, dark eyes, glasses, just the way she looked right now. Only difference was Ginger was terminal. They didn't expect her to last more than a few more months. Cathy turned and looked back in the mirror. She did look a lot like Ginger. She turned back to Steve, "I'm going to go see her tomorrow. I want her to see me with me looking this way."

Steve saw the look on Cathy's face. It was real. She felt something for the little girl, "Maybe not tomorrow, but for sure Monday. OK?"

Cathy looked back in the mirror. She pointed to her own reflection, "I can't remember not trying to hide from this face. Now I don't know, maybe for her."

Steve stepped up behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders. Cathy and Ginger were a lot alike; both were small, weak in many ways. Too bad Cathy had this mean streak, "She'll love you more than ever. You know that?"

Steve's comment about her and Ginger made her feel funny. When this was all over she really would marry Steve. She'd put her original plan in the dust bin. She'd use her money to help other kids. She turned around and looked up at Steve, "You make me feel funny all over. I love you, you know that?"

He rested his hands on her shoulders, "I have something else for you."

Cathy couldn't imagine anything more, at least not anything more she'd particularly want, "Yes?"

He reached in his trouser pocket and pulled out a small thin gold necklace. He held it up, "Let's try this on."

She glimpsed the necklace. It didn't look especially expensive. She wondered why he decided to give it to her. She made a short reply, "OK."

Steve held out the necklace so she could see there was a small locket attached to it. The locket couldn't have been larger than a quarter, it looked no more valuable than the gold chain necklace, and there was something etched on the top. She didn't recognize the etched object, but it looked kind of funny, like a tiny apostrophe and three odd shaped rectangles, one sitting horizontally over the other two which were vertical. It reminded her of something she'd see at Stonehenge. She knew she'd seen this symbol before, but couldn't remember when or where. A little embarrassed she pretended she knew what it was and didn't make a comment.

Steve took it and started to reach behind her head. He had to partially raise her white collar to get the necklace to lie flat. He clicked the little hasp that held it together. He patted the collar back in place, then carefully pulled the locket down in front so that it rested neatly at her throat where the curve of the collar arced together at the center of her neck. He turned her around so she could face the mirror, "There."

Cathy took her right hand, reached up, and felt the locket. It was pretty, very feminine. It also made her appear even younger. She wasn't sure she liked it. She didn't tell him though. She said, "Thank you, it's very pretty."

He looked at the locket around her neck, but avoided eye contact with her, "It looks good on you."

She tried to get him to look at her, but he kept his eyes on the piece of jewelry, "It must have belonged to someone very special."

He had no intention of telling her who it used to belong to, but she was right, it had great personal value, "I had great affection for its prior owner."

Cathy had her suspicions about prior ownership, but kept them to herself, "I hope I can live up to the standards of the previous owner."

He put his hands back on her shoulders, turned her around, and cupped her chin up with the thumb and index finger of his left hand, "You have a lot of potential."

She didn't get that, but she liked it, "Kiss me."

He put his hands back on her shoulders, leaned down, and kissed her tender lips. He thought she had the sweetest lips and softest most delicate look he'd ever seen. Too bad there's a serpent hiding behind that mask. Grinning broadly he said, "You get on downstairs so our Spanish ladies can fill you in on your duties my little serving girl."

Sometime before Cathy ever arrived Steve had hired two ladies from Puerto Rico. They were American citizens through and through, but he liked to tease them by calling them his Spanish ladies. They accepted his low keyed bigotry with good nature. Both were married; their husbands both worked somewhere in the area. What they did wasn't his business so he never tried to pry.

Both ladies generally knew the circumstances regarding Cathy's presence, and both had tacitly agreed to keep a safe distance. He was sure of their loyalty, especially since he paid them quite handsomely.

Feeling awkward, totally out of her element Cathy curtsied, "Yes mi' lord." She turned and dashed out of the room. As she scampered down the hall to the stairs she started to have that odd hot sensation she only ever seemed to have with Steve. No other man ever made her feel in that special way. She hoped that later, after everything was done and everyone else was gone he'd take her in his arms. She reached up and fingered the little locket again. She giggled and commented out loud, "This isn't like you Cathy. You actually could be his little maid."

She skipped all the way down the stairs thinking, if this was how a young maid would have felt back in the days of Lords and ladies, then she could understand how some young girls might have enjoyed being the obedient little maid, serving, and waiting on some young lord hand and foot. She could do that with Steve.

She reached the bottom step and stopped. A little out of breath she hesitated to tidy herself up before she spoke to the Spanish ladies. She pressed down her apron, and checked her shoes and socks. Everything looked excellent.

Steve had planned well ahead for the evening's party. He'd invited five of his best friends. There were several reasons for the party, and for his selection of guests. First, of course he wanted to renew and reaffirm longstanding friendships. Second, he hoped to enlist some financial support for an addition to the small hospice he'd been supporting, and, considering their relationship with him and his deceased wife, he was very optimistic they'd give him at least some of what he needed. Then there was Cathy. All five guests knew and understood the special circumstances surrounding his current live in companion. In fact it had been through their collective efforts that he'd become fully aware of Cathy's predatory past.

Regarding Cathy's activities during the party Steve had set thing things up as carefully as he could. He'd explained to her how important this evening's party was to him, and how important it was for her be a gracious and cooperative hostess. What Cathy didn't know was that his guests knew full well who she was, and tonight at the party they were to be participants, active co-conspirators, in some mild humiliation of the young malefactor. Steve wanted to see just how far he could push the young woman. He wanted to see, in a sense, just what she was made of.

The Party Begins:

Steve got downstairs just a few seconds behind his erstwhile house companion, and just in time to hear the doorbell ring. He got Cathy's eye and motioned toward the door. She straightened the hem and shape of her skirt for what seemed like the eleventh time, and went to the door.

First to arrive was Theresa Stockton. Theresa had been Leah's maid of honor at their wedding, she was Steve's closest female friend, and it had been she who, more than anyone else, had held him together during those first awful weeks after Leah's tragic demise.