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Blindsided 25
🕑 Added 2022-10-25 14:49:08 +0000 UTCLooking over his shoulder with his tanned arm shaking like a leaf, Robbie unzipped his purse to retrieve the key card. Finding the coast clear, he took a deep breath before placing the card into the reader. With his heart beating like a drum in his enhanced chest and his breath held, time seemed to stand still for a moment. Until there was a beep followed by a green light. “Bingo,” Robbie muttered before flinging open the door and rushing inside.
After quietly closing the door, Robbie turned and slumped against it. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he scanned his surrounding through thick spider-leg eyelashes. And there it was, his target. Without wasting time, the feminised man quickly strutted towards the fruit bowl in the centre of the room as a familiar click-clack sound filled his ears. Unzipping his bag once more, the skirted young man was now running on adrenaline as he delved inside to retrieve the package jimmy had given him. Opening it, he peered inside before counting five apples. In the fruit bowl, there were only four!
“Err… Agatha. I think we have a problem,” He announced in a shaky voice.
“What is it, blondie?” a voice in his ear instantly shot back. “Don’t tell me you broke a nail.”
“No! I didn’t break a nail,” Robbie replied in an annoyed tone. “There are only four appleth in the bowl, and the package hath five. What do I do?” There was a moment of silence before Agatha burst out laughing.
“Oh my God,” she said between fits of laughter. “You really are a scatterbrain these days, aren’t you, Barbie?”
Pouting, Robbie listened to her chuckle as his blood began to boil. “Can you thtop laughing?" He spat angrily. “Jutht tell me what you want me to do, will you? Jameth could be back any minute.”
“Oh, and I bet a girl like you would just love that, right? Agatha said while still chuckling. “Oh, Mr. Hemingsworth. I seem to have accidentally wandered into your room. I’m such a naughty girl! Won’t you please punish me?” Agatha mocked in a ditzy-sounding voice.
“No!” Robbie firmly stated while stamping his high-heeled foot. “I’m only here becauthe of you! You did all thith to me! I don’t want any of thith!”
“Aww… Did I touch a nerve again, princess? I seemed to remember a time not too long ago when you tried to persuade your girlfriend to dress sexier for you. Isn’t how you look now what you had in mind?”
Robbie’s Botox-filled lips fell open as he gasped in surprise. “How do you know that?" he asked in a panicked voice. “What doeth thith have to do with Holly?”
“Complete your tasks, and perhaps I’ll tell you,” Agatha replied. “There are four apples in the bowl. So take four out of the bag and replace four apples.”
“No! Robbie shouted while folding his arms. “I’m not doing what you wanth until you tell me whath you mean by that comment.”
“Suit yourself,” Agatha replied. “But when Mr. Hemingsworth finds you in his room, you’re on your own.”
“Argghh… Robbie screamed. “Thith ith tho, unfair! What did I ever do to detherve thith?”
“Complete the task, and you’ll find out,” Agatha calmly replied. “Oh, and before you leave, I have one more thing I need you to do.”
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With aching muscles and shaking legs, Robbie anxiously scanned the large room. Struggling to hold his flute of champagne in his long-nailed hand, his darkly lined eyes studied the well-dressed people surrounding him as he wondered what the hell was going on!
(See image 34)
Somehow, he now found himself wearing a little black dress in the middle of an art gallery. And if that was hard enough for his male mind to comprehend, he was there on a date with James Hemingsworth!
With Shar helping him get ready, he once again looked like an overdone diva. By this point, he was past caring what she did to him. He hadn't even protested as she lightened and straightened his hair! Supposedly, a sleek and sophisticated look was needed to fit in, in such esteemed company. But after doing his makeup and dressing him in an outfit that she claimed was designer, Robbie felt anything but sophisticated. He felt like a clown.
Now alone, for the first time all evening, Robbie wondered what was worse. Feeling vulnerable as he stood alone trying to ignore the wandering eyes scanning up and down his nylon-clad legs? Or having to cling to James Hemingsworth’s side as he whisked him around the room, showing him off like arm candy?
“Ok, I’m alone,” Robbie whispered after checking he was out of earshot of the other guests.
“How’s the date going, sugarlips? Agatha announced in his ear. “I sense a budding romance blossoming.”
“It ithn’t a date!” Robbie muttered. “You know I’m only here becauthe you made me write that note and leave it in hith room.”
Agatha laughed. “Yeah, lucky he called the number you left and not the police, ey? That would have been interesting to watch.”
Robbie sighed. “Yeah, that would have been hilariouth. Anyway, He went off to talk with thome buthinethth perthon he knowth. You thaid to tell you when I wath alone, and I’m alone.”
“Great work, Agent Snowflake,” Agatha mocked. “What are you doing right now? Are you blending in?”
Flabbergasted by the question, Robbie looked down at his delicate-looking body, encased in the most feminine of garments. “Blending in!” He exclaimed angrily. “You’ve made me look like a human-thized Barbie doll! I’m thtanding here drinking thampagne getting luthtful thtareth from the men and angry glareth from their wiveth! How do you expect me to blend in?”
“Champagne, you say?” Agatha asked. “Where did you get that from?”
“Jameth gave it to me, but why doeth that matter? did you not hear what I jutht thaid??” Robbie asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, yeah, calm down, dolly,” Agatha stated. “Boo hoo, poor you. Now, pull yourself together and go to the third-floor bathroom.”
“The bathroom? Why?” Robbie asked, looking over at the intimidating set of stairs at the far end of the room before looking down at his screaming feet.
“No time to explain,” Agatha firmly said. “Get moving or tonight’s tonic will be a very small portion.”
Sighing loudly, Robbie shook his head, which he instantly regretted as a sharp stabbing pain across his forehead. “Fine,” he angrily muttered as he forced his feet to shuffle forward. “I’m going! I’m going!”
