Waist Pocketbook Novels & Stories

she continued eagerly, “something you could use for a quick getaway, or just to run errands when you don’t want to carry the whole thing.” She practically beamed with excitement, probably imagining her commission. But I didn’t mind. I had a man who insisted I spend his money, and damn it—I was doing my best to obey. “Let me see that,” I said, nodding. “Also, I’d love to look at a new wallet—something elegant, timeless, something that goes with everything.” “Perfect,” she said, already moving away to fulfill my requests. I leaned in closer to the bag, peeking inside the spacious compartment. It had side pockets for smaller things—keys, lip balm, anything you didn’t want rattling around. It wa

They all gave a little laugh as they bonded over the curse of women’s fashion. “And when you do have pockets,” Tasha said, putting her hands in her front pockets which stopped at the second knuckle of her fingers, “they are useless.” “I’m constantly losing my phone,” Parker complained. “I swear, cargo pants were created by a woman who was tired of carrying around a damned purse.” “I got Eliza some cargo pants,” Yolanda laughed. “I literally watched her pants hop across the floor. She had a huge bullfrog in her pocket.” Her husband Mark laughed, “I hear her screaming and get in there and she’s up on the dryer with this frog on the floor. Kudos to Eliza, I don’t know how she got it in her pock

So I need to start gathering supplies. The first good thing I find is a backpack. I unzip it and look inside. It’s pretty spacious, and it ought to hold several things without too much trouble. I stuff in the undergarments I found last night and sling it onto my back. As I do, I make a fantastic discovery. In addition to shoulder straps, this backpack has two straps that buckle around the waist and the upper chest. I click them into place, noticing how they change the way the weight of the pack is distributed. If I were a human carrying something heavy, that would be helpful.

“What in the world?” She turned on the overhead light and opened her bag wide, pulling out the larger objects, like her wallet and makeup bag. Nearly everything was out, and the journal wasn’t there. It wasn’t a huge book, only about the size of her palm, but it was thick and heavy, so there was no way she was missing it.

“No hidden pockets?” Julise snorted. “Oh, my sweet summer child. The pockets are the least hidden thing about this.” She flipped the collar inside out to reveal a thin wire sewn into the seam. “Garrote. The left sleeve holds throwing needles. The embroidery on the bodice? Poison reservoir. This, my dear gutter rat, is a noblewoman’s idea of practical wear.” I held it up skeptically. “And the males who’ll die by the hands of noble females, they know and approve of this?”

Belt. Hairpins... What else has she on her? I have resources... At last! Fucking resources! I check for pockets first. The electric-blue spandex skirt turns out to have two small pockets; one empty, one containing a half a packet of mints. Murphy's Law says of course that they're sugar-free - I could have used the calories - but still, the small lozenge slipped under my tongue sets my mouth running and flavour zipping over my tongue and lips. I set the rest of the packet carefully to one side, out of harm's way.

"This one’s durable. Good for storage, safe from pickpockets. If she likes practical, this is it. Or there's the sling bag—versatile, easy for errands. If you need to win over a mother-in-law, take this one. It’s got that classy, 'auntie-approved' vibe. It screams elegance." I pointed to a small, structured black bag on the shelf. "What about that one?" "That's Lucia. Don't let the size fool you. It’s small, but it commands a room. You can fit your phone, your wallet, and—if you ever stop being able to figure out why your wife is mad at you—maybe a manual for her moods." I let out a sharp laugh. "Nice one, Jill. I didn't know you had a future in sales."

She set one of the shopping bags aside and grouped the others together. Quentin picked up the bag she had set aside and took a look. The bag held a sleek, dark brown leather wallet designed for men.

I had this little tool that always came in handy when taking jobs that required unlocking 'secret doors'. So I opened my 'all purpose' purse. I call it 'all purpose' because it has a little device to unlock doors, hack into large computer systems, break holes, tranquilize if necessary and many more. This purse is not too big, not too small, that it can fit into any of my big pockets. So I made the inner pockets of my suit to be big enough to contain this purse, and at the same time stay hidden. Cool isn't?

Remembering that Brick had told me he headed the purse department, I wandered closer, trying to decide which one was my favorite. Handbags were totally my vice. The back of every closet in my apartment was stuffed full with them. I usually switched them out every couple of months. In fact, it was probably time to get a new one. But I was pretty partial to my wicker purse. It was just so cute. And useful. Except these beauties were definitely tempting me. I could drool over their craftsmanship, their hidden pockets, and shapes and sizes, and—ooh—their different smells and textures for hours.