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Emily Cray was missing American Feminist Authors, her favorite class at Ithaca College, but this was important. Besides, they were going to discuss "My Life on the Road" by Gloria Steinem, and she knew it inside and out.
Feeding her inner feminist was important but feeding herself was becoming more important. Mom and Dad had recently announced some 'tough love' - shape up at school or else.
Emily was in her third year at Ithaca and had decided to switch from pre-Law (yay, way to go, daughter!) to Women's Studies (WTF, daughter?!)
Mom and Dad were not impressed.
Yes, it would be difficult to find a job after graduation, but what was happening in the US today was terrifying. The patriarchy was in full control, and it was the responsibility of every woman to stand up for her sisters.
Not to mention, the creepy Church of Morpheus was everywhere on campus. The stories on the internet were absolutely horrible. Human trafficking? The sororities seemed to be filling up with filled out bimbos.
Mom and Dad said no more money till she switched back to pre-Law like a good little Stepford-ite.
Somehow, she had managed to scrape together enough cash to pay her tuition and books, but she was down to eating Ramen noodles and her part of the rent was due last week.
Emily needed a job.
Her prayers were answered when she found the ad on the college bulletin board:
Help Wanted - Young woman for light housework in an all-female home near campus. Room and board included.
Emily wasn't averse to light housework, and an all-female household sounded absolutely delightful. She had been put off a little when she called the number attached and was greeted by a man's voice. However, he explained that he was merely acting as the go-between.
So, Emily rode the bus out into the Ithaca suburbs - neat hedgerows between million dollar houses. She pressed the stop button and stood up. The bus hissed to a stop and she exited through the front. She was wearing a white silk blouse and a sensible gray skirt. She was wearing her heels for the first time in six months.
Emily could feel the bus driver's eyes on her backside as she stepped to the curb. She spun around to confront his misogyny, but found the man was rubbing his glasses on his tie and not looking at her at all.
"Have a nice day!" He said as he closed the door.
"You... too," she said.
The house had an iron gate and a drive that disappeared into trees beyond. She walked up to a metal box with a speaker beside the gate.
"Please step aside, a car is approaching from the house," a man's voice said.
It was the same man she had talked to on the phone.
A car came down the drive.
Well, not so much a car as a garish pink nightmare. It was a Corvette convertible in powder puff pink.
The gate opened automatically, and the car pulled through stopping beside Emily.
Inside was probably the most beautiful woman Emily had ever seen. She was blonde and built more for the beaches of Southern California than the Upstate New York suburbs. She was about Emily's age.
The blonde girl looked at Emily with an astonished look. "It's a Barbie Corvette. I didn't know they made real Barbie Corvettes," the girl said. "It's mine. Fuck, man, they think of everything." She shrugged and pulled onto the road.
Emily watched her go.
"You are Miss Cray?" The man asked from the speaker.
"Um, yes, Emily Cray to see Miss Fuchs?"
"Very punctual, Miss Cray. Please follow the driveway. Miss Fuchs is expecting you."
Emily looked up the wooded drive, and she almost turned around. There was something foreboding about the trees.
She stepped through the gate and it hissed closed behind her.
The house was not a house so much as a mansion nestled among huge trees.
She reached the front door and reached for the doorbell.
Before she could touch it, the door opened on its own.
"Won't you come in, Miss Cray?" The man's voice said.
The foyer beyond was empty.
"The Mistress is waiting in the living room, just ahead and to the right."
Emily walked across the marble floor, conscious of the sound of her heels.
Stacie Fuchs was sitting on an overstuffed leather couch wearing loose gray shorts and a large, red t-shirt. She was holding a steaming cup of coffee. She set it on the coffee table and got to her feet, gliding across the floor to take Emily's hand. "You must be Emily."
"Yes, Miss Fuchs." She had the ridiculous feeling she should curtsy or something stupid like that.
She was an older, brunette version of the beautiful blonde in the Barbie Corvette.
"I think I passed your daughter in the drive..."
"Courtney, yes, she's very excited to start school - she's pre-Med."
"Oh." That sounded a little ludicrous. The girl looked like a silicone bimbo, not a future doctor.
"Sit down," Stacie said and patted the couch.
Emily sat down and smoothed her skirt.
Stacie sat down beside her. "Now, tell me all about yourself."
"I... I'm a student at Ithaca..."
"Studying what?"
"Women's Studies," she said with a smile.
Stacie stared at her. Then she blinked and smiled. "Oh, is that a thing?"
Emily nodded. "Yeah, it's an actual thing."
"Hmm. Probably not a lot of cute boys in those classes?"
"Not many, no."
"Do you have a boyfriend? Or, girlfriend?" Stacie asked.
Emily was taken aback. She had expected some questions about her background and experience, not a quiz on her love life. "No. I'm... between."
Stacie smiled. "Between which?"
"Boyfriends," Emily stammered. In fact, she was very between. She hadn't had a date in almost a year.
"I see," Stacie said as she looked at Emily's legs.
Emily pressed her legs tighter together and smoothed her skirt again. Was the woman a lesbian? She got a little angry with herself.
What if she was? Nothing wrong with that
.
"Would you like some coffee? I'll warn you it's a trifle strong. I had a late night last night. God, the young man I had was insatiable. Do you take cream and sugar?" Stacie asked.
"I... yes, both, please." Had Stacie just said what she thought she said?
Stacie poured the coffee in a fine china cup. "We just moved in. It's not really our house, it's part of my benefits. You should have seen Courtney's face this morning when she saw her car." She pushed the coffee toward Emily on the coffee table.
Emily took the cup and blew on it.
"Bottoms up," Stacie said with a smile that wasn't quite wholesome.
Emily hesitated and took a drink. She wasn't kidding: it was strong!
