By Eva Rivers
Chanel. Versace. McQueen. I stroll among the rails, flick through them casually, implying I can take it or I can leave it. Money’s no problem. Never has been. Today, I’m yearning for something sumptuous. Something consuming. Something that will make me wet.
Is that a — ? Yes! Oh yes! Oh yes, yes, yes!
With a few agile maneuvers I make it just ahead of a bemused couple to the Birkin handbag. I caress it. I smell it. I let it dangle on my arm and head straight for the door. My heart is racing.
