I’m so flattered that the high-flying millionaire house husband tuned in to see me.
Of course. Did you remember to eat lunch?
Not yet.Jay glanced at Arthur, clapping in the appropriate spot.I’ll grab something after the All Hands meeting, I promise.
I know you, Jay. You forget when you’re nervous.
I won’t forget.
She watched Katie take the microphone from Arthur, clicking to a slide that showed a bunch of metrics for various departments and their performance. She thought wistfully of the first time she had listened to Nicholas speak at one of these meetings and how impressed she had been, seeing his depth of knowledge and casual competency.
Their marriage had raised some eyebrows, and she still heard the occasional whispers of disapproval, but it seemed like Nicholas’s jaded assessment of the town had been correct: money talked even louder than rumor. His sense for business outweighed his transgressions, and when he came into the office to discuss big clients or expansions, people still looked at him with respect.
Still, sometimes she found herself looking at that empty office on the mezzanine and thinking of how he used to make faces at her when he pestered her over text.
When he wasn’t here, she missed him.
After a full day of back-to-back meetings, she was ready to go home. With her new car and new license, she could play all the 90s strip mall music she wanted. Whenever she drove, Nicholas groaned aloud every time Letters to Cleo came on, but he never touched her radio. And sometimes, she thought she’d caught him humming the hook to her songs in that deep, resonant voice.
The house was warm and after hanging up her purse and coat, she found Nicholas standing over what appeared to be a passable imitation of her curried carrot soup, along with a plateof vegan aquafaba merengues. “Surprise,” he said, watching her face with obvious delight.
“You baked,” she said, unable to keep the shock out of her voice.
His brows slanted down and he folded his arms over the front of his raglan shirt. “You don’t have to sound so shocked.”
“I’m sorry, you’resoprogressive, I should have realized you were a feminist king.”
Nicholas rolled his eyes and smacked her sharply on the ass. “Get two wine glasses and tell me how your speech went. Did you remember to eat?” he asked casually.
Jay froze in front of the cupboard just as her stomach let out an incriminating growl. She glanced at him over one shoulder and saw his mouth twitch into that familiar dark smile.
“So, no.”
“I had meetings all day,” she protested.
“So get something delivered.”
“I can’t do that, that’s so embarrassing. I feel bad.”
“So tip them.” He caught her by the chin and kissed her hard, taking the glasses out of her hands and setting them on the counter. Her heart gave a little skip of anticipation when he flicked the citrine stone against her throat before gripping it in his fingers. “You bad girl. Now I have to think up a punishment for you.”
“Why?”
“You need to eat,” he said, and when he tugged on the chain, she shivered. “It’s the third time this week you’ve forgotten. I can’t have my beautiful little bird wasting away to nothing while she flutters up the corporate ladder.”
“Daddy,” she said. “No. Please.”
“The more you beg, the worse it’s going to be.”
Jay heard herself make a rather shameless sound that did not sound particularly concerned with consequences, worse or otherwise.
He laughed darkly. “Is the thought of a little punishment turning you on? I’ll make it extra fun for you then. You can choose how and when.”
The scent of the baked merengue filled her lungs when she breathed in, and she thought dizzily how strange it was, to taste such lingering sweetness while listening to his threats. “H-how?”
“Option one—you go out to dinner at Accia with me in that slutty little dress you hate, with nothing on underneath.”
“Oh my god,” Jay choked, scandalized—but not as much as she wanted to be.
