“Thewhatnow?” I roll my eyes but can’t help the grin tugging at my lips. With Elena, it could be anything from a circus tent to a 90s-themed rave.
“It’s a BDSM dungeon, obviously.” She says this so casually, like it’s the kind of thing normal people say on a Wednesday afternoon.
I burst out laughing. “Obviously. As if I spend my Friday nights shopping for whips and chains.”
“Well, now you’ll get the chance. C’mon, Bella. You need this. You’ve been working like a machine, closing deals left and right.It’s been what? Ten years of you duking it out in court with those evil relatives of yours?”
I lean back in my chair, trying to remember the last time I did something that didn’t involve a court hearing or a closing contract. And she’s right—it’s been a while. A long while.
I exhale a long, frustrated sigh into the phone as I keep the phone glued to my ear.
“Look, you’ve been fighting like a gladiator—juggling Julian and Lila, court, work—you deserve a break. Arealbreak. You need to feel human again, babe. Besides,sexgives you those happy hormones,you know?Endorphins. Serotonin. Whatever other ‘ins’that help keep you from going full Terminator on the world.” Elene’s voice takes a jog up the mountain. “You deserve to celebrate in a place that reminds you that you’re human.”
I laugh. “A BDSM dungeon reminds me I’m human?”
“Exactly. Think of it like a really weird spa day. You walk intense, leave… well,nottense.”
I snort. “I think you’re confusing a spa with something entirely different.”
Elena’s laugh bubbles through the phone. “Okay, okay. Maybe a little different, but it’s all for the experience! Plus, I hear the bartender makes an amazing tequila sunrise.”
“Tequila at a dungeon?”
“Girl, it’s basically a speakeasy with leather.”
I can’t stop smiling. Elena’s voice is like a shot of serotonin after a long day of dealing with entitled sellers. She always knows how to get me out of my head and into something… questionable.
“So you’re saying we’re going to celebrate my birthday by letting people get whipped while we sip cocktails?”
Elena squeals with excitement. “Yes! You’re catching on. This is why we’re best friends.”
I laugh. “You’ve officially lost your mind.”
“Come on, Bella, what else are you going to do? Go home and cuddle with your latest contract? You need this. We’ll even get a VIP booth, so we can be voyeurs with class.”
“Oh, well, if we’re watching from the classy section…”
“Exactly. Picture this: you, me, leather couches, hot bartenders, and a bunch of consenting adults being freaky while we toast to your success.”
I lean back in my chair, shaking my head. “Fine. But if I see anything I can’t unsee, I’m sending the therapy bill your way.”
Elena cackles. “Deal. See you at seven on Friday. Wear something that screams, ‘I make six figures and could still ruin your life.’”
“That’s my usual vibe.”
“You’re gonna love this, Bella.Trustme.”
“Loveya, babe, but I gotta go.” I hang up the phone with Elena, still smiling as I stare at my screen.Tequila at a BDSM dungeon?Really?I’ll think of an excuse to bail, as usual. It’s not like I don’t appreciate her planning something for my birthday, but I’d rather spend it curled up with Netflix and a pizza, far away from leather and chains.
I tap my pen against my desk, mentally running through my to-do list, when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye.
Ugh, no.
It’s her.Sandra,my boss—or should I say, the woman whose mission in life seems to be making mine miserable.
Sandra strides toward my office, her stilettos make a sound like a cat scratching its claws on a chalkboard.
She doesn’t knock.Of course not.Why would the queen of condescension bother with basic manners?
