I said, “It was good. She’s as good as they say and we didn’t kill each other.”
“So why wasn’t she there to sign the agreement when I got there?”
I wasn’t going to get away with telling him nothing. “Because I stuck my foot in my mouth.”
“Yep. You said that. Do I get any more info than that?”
“I sorta kissed her. And then I said something dumb.”
He dropped the weight bar back onto the rack and stared at me disbelievingly. “You’re into her? You can have pretty much any woman you want. But you’re into the one who thinks you’re a dickhead. Because, man, look at me. She thinks you’re a dickhead.”
Like I needed to be reminded of that right now. “I’m not into her like that. I just got caught in the moment. It won’t happen again.”
I’d gone in expecting acting lessons, but it had felt more like some kind of therapy. She hadn’t shown me Lucas Steel. She’d shown me the parts of myself I’d been too afraid to explore.
I felt something intense during that dance and I wanted more.
Rami grabbed our recovery drinks from the fridge in the corner and tossed one to me. “So is the deal off?”
“I think it’s still on. But I need to apologize.”
“So call her.”
She didn’t seem like a phone call kind of girl. I tried to imagine apologizing on the phone and it didn’t end well. “It needs to be better than that. Can you take a box to her at the dungeon later?”
“I’m not your errand boy, Alex. I’m your entertainment attorney. I’m not going back to the stupid dungeon for you.”
“Yeah, and last I checked, you were also my oldest friend. Please. I’ll lower myself to asking nicely if I have to, but there’s no one else I can ask to do this and I need her not to bail because I was an asshole.”
“Fine,” he groaned. “But you’re going to look like a giant pussy for groveling.”
“Oh don’t worry. It’s not all groveling. I think I know how to get her to see me again even if it’s to destroy me.”
“Text me when you have the stupid box ready. But I’m telling you when I go in, and if I haven’t checked in within twenty minutes of that to let you know I’m out, then assume they’ve taken me hostage and send reinforcements.”
“As though it would be so terrible…” I swatted his ass with the towel I was holding.
“I don’t know what kind of shit you’re into, but I’m not fond of the idea. Ophelia was bad enough in a legal capacity. I don’t need to know what she’s like clad in leather with a whip in her hand.”
“For not wanting to know, it sure sounds like you’ve got a specific image of her in mind…”
I smiled, but I wasn’t picturing Ophelia. I was picturing the look on Elena’s face when she saw my “apology gift.” She’d have that glint in her eyes that promised retribution…the one I was far too eager to see again.
9
Elena
Isat in Victoria’s elegantly decorated office in front of what Ophelia was calling our Murder Board. It was more accurately a representation of all of my clients for the next month: who they were being reassigned to, whether they’d been notified, the status of prep for their appointments, and what notes I needed to give to my substitutes. There were side columns for my mentoring duties and classes I was supposed to be teaching.
Seeing all of it laid out like this was disconcerting. How did I do all of this in a month normally?
Victoria was taking point on notifying clients and handling reassigning or rescheduling them. It wouldn’t be a pleasant job. Some of them had been seeing me multiple times a week for years and got upset if my nail polish was the wrong color. Being told they’d have to see someone new who would approach their fantasy a little differently would be deeply distressing.
Some would cancel altogether and wait for me to return. There was a possibility some of my regulars would try someone else for a month and decide not to come back to me, but I'd calculated that into my decision. It was something that frequently happened anyway. No matter how good you were, novelty was a tempting mistress.
When I’d first started working at the dungeon, I’d been completely broke and it was stressful and upsetting when I began to think I could count on regulars booking sessions, then out of the blue they would stop seeing me and switch to someone else. It made me feel pressure to take sessions I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been desperate for the money. Being in a lineup of girls competing over a walk-in client and knowing you won’t be able to pay your rent if he doesn’t pick you is a miserable feeling, but at least I never did anything I felt any shame about.
I did however go deep into debt beyond my student loans in the months where I didn’t book as many clients as I thought I would. Perhaps I should’ve given up, but I’d already fallen in love with this world and I could see there were successful dommes making great money. I busted my ass for years, learning everything I could, shadowing sessions for free, asking questions, constantly practicing until I finally started to build a steadier client list and establish a reputation for myself.
