She walked up to the front door anxiously, looking behind her at the driveway, empty other than her car. She supposed his car could have been in the garage, but even if she took the time to go check, she wouldn't have really known, since, she realized, she had no idea what kind of car he drove. Judging by this house, and the little community it was in, probably a very nice one.
She felt a bit silly as she knocked on the door, then rang the doorbell, knowing she had a key. It seemed odd to just let herself into a strange house completely unannounced, however, so she waited for a minute before pushing the key into the lock, surprised and a bit giddy when it went in, when it turned, when the door pushed open, revealing the empty house on the other side. "Hello?" she called uncertainly, stepping in and shutting the door behind her.
It seemed almost unfair, she mused, staring around at the lavish furnishings, how she always seemed to run into people who were so well off, when she was so not. Forgetting about how wrong this was, and how much she'd fretted over that, she started to wonder if this went well, it might become a regular thing... Maybe even enough to consider herself his mistress. Guys still bought their mistresses diamonds and clothes and apartments bigger than a walk in closet, didn't they? She knew she'd seen that in the movies before, but probably just in mafia flicks. Then again, she didn't know that he wasn't in the mafia...
Of course, she knew there was no guarantee things would get that far. It had been so long, and she was sure she was rather rusty... He could be so underwhelmed that he would never want to see her again. Or vice versa, but that seemed much less likely.
"You really are a whore," she told herself, slightly disgusted at the way she was thinking. What was wrong with her? It was bad enough she was sleeping with another woman's husband - now she was worrying that she might not get to do it again, or that she might not get some big reward out of it, beyond the obvious. She glanced back at the front door, starting to reconsider the whole thing.
Instead, she inched her way closer to the staircase leading to the second floor. She had no real idea where anything in the house was, or where she was supposed to meet him, but she had a feeling the bedroom would be up there. She laid her hand on the railing, staring up at the stairs and then over at the door, weighing her options. It was, just barely, past the time on the note. He should be there any minute... If she went up the steps now, she might not be able to go back down without running into him, and she knew if she did that, she wouldn't be able to say no. This was most likely her last chance to change her mind.
She chose the stairs.
She'd barely made her way up two of them, however, before she heard the voice from behind her, nearly making her jump out of her skin and tumble back down to the ground floor all at once. Her heart sped up as she turned, hoping she'd misheard, that her ears were playing tricks on her.
But what she saw only confirmed it. There was somebody else there, and that somebody was another woman. Just as she had initially with him, Angela would have guessed that the woman was around 30, though it seemed more likely to be true in this case. She was tall, statuesque, and, above all, very well endowed. Standing there, an intruder on this woman's turf, Angela felt the maturity that had filled her as she sat in her car thinking about what was coming drain away, replaced with fear. "I... I-I..." she mumbled, her brain having apparently shut down when she saw the other woman, taking with it the memory of what she'd been asked, although she was sure it had to have something to do with what she thought she was doing.
And what could she say to that? She wasn't about to admit the truth, not as the woman got closer and she saw the ring on her finger. Even if part of her felt like she might deserve it, she didn't want to get her ass kicked, especially not when she hadn't even done anything yet. But what if she knew already? What if Angela wasn't the first, and this woman was used to strange women sneaking up to her bedroom? As she loomed closer, Angela began to feel smaller and more inadequate, sure she was about to receive justice for what she'd almost done. She'd never been in a fight before - she'd been bullied some, in school, but never bothered to resist. She doubted it would end well.
"P-Please," she begged. "I..."
The lady stopped short, then covered her mouth with her hands, trying to hide a chuckle. Angela stared over at her, apparently looking as confused as she felt, urging the woman to tell her, "I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to scare you."
"That's... uh... that's all right..." Angela smiled tentatively. What was going on?
"I heard you at the door, but I was doing laundry. I didn't expect you to let yourself in..." Angela froze, afraid the woman would realize that the front door had been locked and wonder how, exactly, this intruder had gotten in.
"Well, I... I mean..." Angela was completely unprepared for this. She'd worried it could happen, of course, but she'd never expected it to happen like this. If she was going to get caught, she'd thought it would happen right away, when she'd rung the doorbell and could have just claimed she had the wrong house, or afterward, as she was lying in bed with him, and he could handle the explaining.
"You look a little pale," the woman told her. "Come on, sit down for a minute."
"Maybe I should go..." she said, staring at the front door and its blessed escape.
"Nonsense. I don't want you collapsing out there. Come sit down and I'll get you some water." Angela could tell the woman wasn't going to back down, so she nodded reluctantly, stepping back down to the main floor and letting herself be led to the couch. It was large and quite comfortable; she could feel herself sinking into it as she waited for the woman to return with her glass of water. This could have been the perfect time to get out of there, but she was too afraid the woman would hear her escape and come after her. She accepted the glass gratefully, taking it with both hands and sipping from it.
"Does that make you feel better?" the woman asked. Angela nodded, sipping again to keep from having to speak, sure it would be no more intelligible than anything else she'd said since being caught. "Oh, you don't have to look so scared," the woman told her, reaching out and patting her knee. "I'm not mad at you for coming in, dear. I was just surprised, that's all."
Angela tried simply nodding again, but the woman didn't go on, clearly expecting something more. She swallowed, trying to collect her thoughts, to keep from sounding like a spooked child. "No, I... I shouldn't have done that. It's my fault."
"Going door to door must be hard, huh?" the woman asked, leaning in a little closer to Angela, who took another frantic drink as she attempted to decode that. Who did this person think she was? What did she think she was doing here?
"It... can be," she answered finally, deciding that was a safe enough answer.
"I bet it would be easier if you wore your uniform," the woman nodded wisely. "Your other uniform, I mean. But you probably didn't have time to change, did you?"
The woman chuckled at her again. "Finish up your water, sweetie." Angela tipped back her glass obediently. The woman waited until she was most of the way done before commenting, "It would probably be easier if you had brought your cookies, too."
Angela was glad for the water and her ability to use it to stall yet again, though this time she didn't have nearly as long. As she lowered the glass, however, it finally hit her what the woman must mean, and it made her cheeks burn. A Girl Scout? Really? Still, it was probably safest to play along with it. "I was supposed to, but I forgot," she shrugged.
"Isn't you guys' motto 'Be Prepared'? You don't seem to have done a very good job at it."
Angela's mind raced. Was this a test? She'd never been a Girl Scout herself, though she had known a boy who was a scout, and she was pretty sure he'd told her his motto was 'Be Prepared'. Boy and Girl Scouts wouldn't both have the same motto, would they? "Well, actually," she said, hoping she was right, "it isn't. But I should have been, you're right."
"Oh, isn't it?" the woman raised an eyebrow. Angela winced, hoping she hadn't just screwed herself by over-thinking this. "Well, I guess I shouldn't expect a Daisy to know that."
Angela blushed, sitting up straighter. She might not know much about Girl Scouts, but she knew Daisies were the littlest ones. Surely she couldn't think she was that young! "I'm not a Daisy!" she exclaimed, trying, and failing, to keep her offense from sounding like pouting. "I'm a... uh..."
The woman scooted closer, her ample bosom brushing against Angela's arm now, making the girl feel even more inadequate as she sat there, dressed like a schoolgirl, trying to think of some random bit of knowledge she knew had to be in her head. Her brain was feeling kind of fuzzy, somehow, and even though she was sure the word she was looking for was something simple, it kept eluding her. "What?" the woman asked. "What are you, sweetie?"
Angela tried to squirm away, but the woman kept following, making the girl more and more flustered. "I'm... umm... I'm one of..."
"What is it?" the woman urged, watching Angela's frightened eyes, smiling, before changing the question to, "What are you, Barbie?"
Angela gasped as she heard the name, jumping up from the couch. Unfortunately, at some point her legs had apparently been replaced with jelly, and she stood for a only a moment, tottering, before falling flat on her bottom with an "Oomph!", the hardwood floor smacking roughly into her bottom.
She stared up, weakly, as she watched the woman stand, towering over her ominously. "Are you a doll, Barbie?" she asked, voice turning rougher, less gentle. When the girl couldn't bring herself to answer, the woman grinned, leaning down a little. "Yes, I think you are."