“When’s the last time you spoke with Sixx?” Stellan asked.
“Spoke with her as in, got deep into a conversation about life and love and the meaning of it all? Never. Got into a conversation that lasted longer than it took for us to share a drink in one of my booths at the Honey? Never. Shared a drink with her at the club and didn’t get into anything that means anything, even though I’d try but she’d cut me off at every pass? A couple of weeks. Got into a conversation over the phone with her to ream her ass about stupid shit she does to make money? It’s been a while, since she stopped doing stupid shit.”
“She hasn’t.”
There was silence.
“She works ad hoc jobs for Fred Carvelo, among others.”
“Fuck,” Aryas bit.
“I’ve been making a few calls,” Stellan shared. “This work will dry up, starting today.”
Another wave of silence, but Aryas broke it. “Have you lost your mind?”
“No,” Stellan answered calmly.
“I take it you’re makin’ these calls, she doesn’t know this work is gonna stop coming her way.”
“You take it correctly.”
“Okay,” Aryas began. “Goes without sayin’ I do not want our girl doin’ stupid shit for dirty assholes who infest the underbelly of Phoenix. But I’m thinkin’ that’s not the way to go with makin’ that stop.”
“And how has reaming her ass worked so far, Aryas?” Stellan asked.
There was a pause before he muttered, “You got a point.” He spoke clearly when he continued, “I’m still not thinking good thoughts on this, Stellan.”
“I need you to help me pull her in,” Stellan told him.
“Say again?” Aryas demanded.
“I need you to help me pull her in. You and Leigh and Olly and Leenie. I need her grounded. I need her centered. I need her supported. I need to build a foundation for her that she believes in. That she knows in her heart will never crack.”
Aryas sounded perplexed when he replied, “She’s already got that.”
“No, she doesn’t. She has no idea that she has that, which means she does not have that. She understands the concept that she has good people in her life. She absolutely does not understand the concept that they form the foundation of a life that will see her through the best of times, the worst of times, and all the minutiae in between.”
“You’re digging under,” Aryas whispered, no concern in his voice, just respect.
“I am.”
“You’re getting in there.”
“That I’m not doing,” Stellan admitted. “So I’m calling for reinforcements.”
“I’m in. So in. All in,” Aryas declared. “I’ll talk to Leigh. Leenie. Get her ass to the club. She’ll have so much foundation she’ll think she got herself a pair of cement boots.”
Stellan took in a deep breath and let it out, saying, “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. Thanks goes to you, my man. And we’ll be with you all the ways we can.”
“We’ll be at the club tomorrow night,” Stellan shared.
“And so will I. See you then … and Stellan?”
“Yes?”
“Good luck, brother. Good fuckin’ luck,” Aryas said low.
After that, he hung up.
Stellan put his phone on his desk and turned back to the view thinking he could use all the luck he could get.
And hoping he didn’t need a miracle.
*
“I’ll want to meet her,” Simone said that night from where they sat, both of them ostensibly reading, but mostly talking, on the couch in front of the fire in their bedroom.
Stellan made a note to make yet another call, this time again to Aryas so he could arrange for the Mistress that he wanted to work Ami to meet Simone.
“I’ll see if Aryas will ask her to meet us at the club,” Stellan replied.
“Ami should also be able to look her over,” Simone said.
Stellan fought back a sigh at yet another call he’d need to make.
“Once you approve her, I’ll discuss it with him.”
“Good,” she murmured, eyes to her tablet where she was reading a downloaded book.
Not her sketchpads. Those usually disappeared after she worked at them. He’d only ever seen her leave one out—last Friday, after their intense conversation—and it was likely left out because of their intense conversation. An oversight.
He needed to get into those sketchpads.
But he had a feeling if he did that without her permission, it would be an invasion she’d never forgive and a betrayal she’d use to end things with him in a way even he could not resuscitate.
As he studied her across the couch from him, doing it considering pulling her feet into his lap, she lifted her gaze to him.
“I’m not sure about the club tomorrow night, baby,” she said softly.
She used “baby” to get her way quite often.
He liked it when she called him that so much he should allow her to get her way so she wouldn’t discontinue its use.
However, with the stakes this high, that would be counterproductive.
“Why not?” he asked.
“We’re not going to play, right?”
He nodded. “We’re not going to play.”
“So what’s the point?”
“The point is to have a drink in a place where we can fully be who we are around people who are comfortable being fully who they are. One of the few places, outside our home, that allows that. Our place.”
At his last two words, she turned to the fire.
Stellan examined her profile.
In doing so, he noted she was trying to hide it.
But she was scared.
And there were likely a myriad of reasons why.
She was scared of being his in a place where she had a carefully constructed fa?ade she did not wish to be dismantled due to what it would expose. Scared of going there with him for no reason but to be with him, with her friends, and how much she’d like that, which would mean it would demonstrate how much she’d miss it when it was gone—or better, how much she wouldn’t want to let it go. Scared of what it might convey, her with him, as they were both Doms, and as erroneous as it was to make that assumption, it was the way of the world, not simply the way of Simone’s nature, that it would be assumed if one of them would switch, it would be her.
“I’ve never known you to go there just for a drink,” she said softly.
“You haven’t been there every time I’ve been there,” he replied quietly. “That said, it is rare that I would go just for that purpose.” She turned again to look at him. “But I’ve also never had a woman in my life who shared my way of life.”
“I think it’s too soon.”
If she thought going to the Honey was too soon, she was not going to appreciate the news she’d be meeting Susan, Harry and Crosby on Thursday night.
“You’re thinking wrong,” he replied.
“Stellan—”
“We’re going,” he said decisively.
Her back got straight. “I’m not your submissive Simone right now,” she snapped.
He looked down to his book, stating smoothly, “You always are, darling. You’ll come to realize that and take comfort and contentment in it.”
“Not when there’s something you want to do that I don’t want to do in terms of just living life.”
He looked back at her. “Give me one reason, only one, but it has to be a good one, why we would not go to the club tomorrow night,”
Giving him one good reason would expose too much, therefore she shot back, “I don’t feel like it.”
“That’s not a good reason.”
“It should be,” she retorted.
Stellan decided to stop playing nice.
“My pretty little coward,” he whispered.
Her eyes flashed.
His lips curved.
She looked down at her tablet, shutting him out at the same time giving in.
He fully smiled.
Then he ordered, “Put your feet in my lap, sweetheart.”
“Go to hell, asshole,” she muttered.
He set his book aside, captured her feet, and brought them to his lap. She struggled, but only for moments, deciding not to give him the pleasure of subduing her.
Wise.
He started in on massaging the soles.
“You’re insufferable,” she told her tablet.
“You’re adorable,” he told her.
Eyes still aimed at her screen, Stellan caught a brand-new look on her face. It was pinched with frustration.