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Captioned Images Series: Inspection 3
Created: 07/04/2025
Ever since Marie took over the Le Coquelicot franchise, everyone was expected to wear skirts. Marie personally inspected each restaurant to make sure this rule was followed.
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Couldn't Believe His Luck---07/04/2025~~~Derek couldn't believe his luck. It felt like something out of a dream. He, a 23-year-old recent college grad living with two roommates, was now standing at the walk-in closet that looked like it belonged in a glossy magazine spread. And not just any house—Mrs. Collins' house. Elegant. Immaculate. Expensive.Mrs. Collins had asked him casually during a neighborhood barbecue if he'd be willing to housesit while she visited her sister in Napa. Ten days. Derek jumped at the chance. The offer had been generous: "Help yourself to the pool, the kitchen, whatever you need." Mrs. Collins had said it so breezily, with a smile and a flutter of her manicured hand, that Derek took it as carte blanche.
So, naturally, when Derek wandered into the master bedroom on the first evening, sipping from a glass of Sauvignon Blanc he'd found chilling in the fridge, he couldn't help but peek into that closet. He had seen it once before during a party tour. It had made an impression: three walls of shelves, racks, and drawers, softly lit by warm LED panels, with a velvet tufted bench in the center and a full-length mirror framed in gold. It smelled of lavender sachets and sandalwood.
And the clothes. Oh, the clothes.
Derek stepped inside now and turned slowly, taking it all in. Silk blouses in pastel shades, structured blazers, floral midi dresses, and rows of stilettos, wedges, and ballet flats, all organized by color and heel height. In one corner, a glass-fronted cabinet held handbags like museum pieces—Prada, Dior, and one tiny Chanel clutch that looked like it had never been touched.
Then he saw the swimsuits. Folded neatly in a woven basket on a lower shelf, each one was more beautiful than the last. But one caught his eye—a one-piece in a vibrant shade of coral, with gold accents, sheer mesh panels, and daring side cut-outs. It was elegant but sultry, refined but flirty. Derek lifted it up, running his fingers along the fabric. It was unlike anything he owned.
He hesitated.
She said I could use anything I liked, Derek reminded himself, chewing his lip. She just didn’t expect I’d want to try on her clothes. But what’s the harm? I’ll be careful. It’s just for fun.
Derek closed the closet door behind his, the soft click of the latch echoing like a seal of secrecy. He walked to the en suite bathroom and changed, slipping out of his T-shirt and shorts. The swimsuit hugged his body. The coral color made his skin glow, and the cut-outs added just extra drama to feel. He admired himself in the mirror, turning this way and that. He posed like he imagined Mrs. Collins might, back straight, shoulders relaxed, chin tilted just so.
He couldn't help but smile.
Derek walked barefoot down the hallway, wrapped himself in one of Mrs. Collins’ fluffy towels, and stepped out onto the patio. The pool glistened beneath the setting sun. He dropped the towel, took a breath, and dove in.
The water was cool and refreshing, and as he swam laps, he imagined what it would be like to live here—not just housesit, but actually belong here. To wake up every day and choose an outfit from that closet, to drink wine on this patio, to slip into an infinity pool in a designer swimsuit without a second thought.
For now, it was pretend.
But oh, how lovely the pretending could be.
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