Playing Dirty by Kiki Swinson Read Free Book Online

made me feel good to have a servant. I picked up the mail she’d left on the front table for me. Nothing of interest.
    “Ophelia, have the valet pick up my Benz from the office. The keys are in my purse, and the car is parked in the visitor’s spot nearest the entrance. Oh, and please run me a nice hot bubble bath.” I could have done it myself, but why do that when I was paying her ass?
    “Yes, senora,” Ophelia replied, dropping what she was doing and rushing toward my master bathroom. She always moved right away when I requested something; she knew I had very little patience.
    “Oh yeah, and could you also fetch me a cup of hot mint tea?” I asked. I loved to see her rush at my beck and call.
    “Would you like the tea at the bath side or right away?” Ophelia asked.
    “Um…I’ll have it in the bath,” I replied as I headed for my massive bedroom. “Oh, Ophelia, can you lay out several party dresses for me and several pairs of shoes? I will choose something after my bath.”
    “No problem, ma’am,” she answered in a low tone.
    I took off my clothes and left them right in a pile on the floor for Ophelia to pick up. I looked in the mirror at my beautiful shape, and my five-seven frame was perfect. My waist was tiny like a doll’s, which was from my constant gym activity. I sometimes wondered if it was a sin for one person to love herself this much. After admiring my beauty for a while, I stepped into the bathroom. Ophelia had done just what she knew I’d like. She set the tea at the side, ran the tub lukewarm, with just the right amount of bubbles, and lit the entire bathroom with candles. This was the life. The atmosphere was serene and I loved it. I climbed into the tub and let my muscles relax. I soaked in my oversized Jacuzzi tub for more than thirty minutes, sipping tea from my finest china. I felt like a queen, but time was ticking and I had to get ready.
    Picking out a dress was a job—so many beautiful designer things to choose from. I finally settled on one, but it wasn’t easy. I turned around and around in front of my floor-length mirror, checking my ass over and over again. The slinky black spaghetti-strapped Roberto Cavalli dress I’d chosen fit me perfectly; my tiny waist and long legs had me looking like a model. Driving around Miami, I often got mistaken for Kimora Lee Simmons. I’d even gotten a free dinner one night after I hadn’t denied being her to the waiter—he was convinced I was the sexy Asian female mogul in the flesh.
    I clamped my Charriol diamond pavé earrings onto my ears and swung my head back and forth. My loose curls danced around my face and I slid one back behind my ear so that the earrings showed. I topped my outfit off with a brand-new pair of Christian Louboutin open-toed stiletto sandals and a Marc Jabobs clutch.
    “Ophelia, have the valet bring my car to the front, please,” I called out. Then I whispered to myself, “Okay, Yoshi, do it, girl.” Mr. Santana better be ready for me tonight. He was so used to seeing me in suits in court, I might make his head spin tonight. “Fuck his wife,” I whispered. I was so wicked. I laughed into the air.
    “Ms. Lomax, your car is here,” Ophelia notified me. I looked at my diamond-encrusted Cartier watch…. Perfect, I was running on schedule. I took one last look at my stunning ass before I left. Ophelia watched me either in admiration or in hatred.
    As I took the elevator downstairs, my phone rang. It was Paul. He had been calling me and leaving me all kinds of threatening messages since he left my office earlier. This motherfucker was really insane. On one of the messages, he’d said, “Yoshi, you have gotten really cocky these last couple of years. But remember, I hold your career in my hands. You are nothing without me.” Was he seriously that sprung over some pussy? Well, since it was my pussy, he had to be, I guess. With all the dirt I had on Paul, he’d better not fuck with me.
    I ignored his call and