Binding Agreement

Chapter 8





I WAKE UP THE next morning next to Robert, in his bed, with another hangover. This one isn’t alcohol induced; it’s the hangover you’re left with when the world changes under your feet, when there’s a rewiring of the mind. Everything is different today. I don’t fear Fear. I’ve done things I never thought I would or could and now, if I can do that . . . if I can let myself submit like that, is it so outrageous to think that I can master? Isn’t it almost required in order for me to keep the balance? Because if I don’t exercise my dominance in other areas of my life, I will feel weak and controlled. I won’t let that happen. Not anymore.

I rise from the bed with a new, more primitive energy. Robert watches without saying a word as I make my way to the master bath. I think I smell Genevieve’s perfume on my skin, the bass player’s cologne . . . a menagerie of lovers. They possessed me but, then again, they themselves are possessed. One word from me could have stopped them. One word from me could destroy them.

I wash them off of me under the warm streaming water of Robert’s shower. My head is clearing. I know how today needs to begin.

Robert doesn’t join me in the shower. Somehow he senses it wouldn’t be right. When I return to his bedroom, I see that there are garment bags with new clothes in them for me. Nothing too revealing. A one-hook off-white blazer with matching relaxed trouser. A deep blue camisole makes it pop. It’s all perfectly appropriate; the only thing that makes it out of the ordinary is the attitude of the woman who will wear it. I see it when I put the suit on. When I look in the mirror, the vision I see is one of determination. In my off-white suit and conservatively cut trousers I am anything but conservative.

When I go upstairs, Robert hands me a travel mug of coffee, kisses me gently on the cheek. “My board has decided to contract your firm for further consulting.”

It’s a misleading statement. The decision was always Robert’s. In the end the board will always follow his lead. But I know that in this instance there was no argument or resentment. My ideas were sound; the path I had pointed them toward, a good one.

“Have you had any problems with anyone else at your work?” he asks. “Did getting rid of Tom bring the rest of them in line?”

I think of Mr. Costin. We could destroy him, too. And Asha? Will she be a problem? Regardless, I should tell Robert that everything is fine. I should play fair.

I sip my coffee and smile. “We’ll see how it goes today,” I say vaguely. “If there’s a problem, I’ll let you know.”

As I gather up my things it occurs to me that I mean it. If necessary, I’ll tell him about the people who try to undermine me, let the chips fall where they may.

* * *

WHEN I ARRIVE at my firm, I don’t go straight to my office. Instead I go to Mr. Costin. His assistant tries to stop me, tells me to wait but she has no power over me. No one does, except Robert Dade.

That thought sits with me funny; in raises my fur, intensifies my need to flex my muscles, flaunt my strength. I throw open the door to Mr. Costin’s office, catching him with his teeth half submerged in a jelly donut. His eyes widen with rage as he registers my impertinence.

I slam the door behind me as he drops the donut onto a paper plate.

“You have no right—” he begins but I have no patience for his admonishments.

“You don’t want me here,” I say coolly. “Not in your office, not in this building, and certainly not in my new job.”

“Tom’s job,” Mr. Costin growls. “Mr. Love to you.”

“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “It was his job, now it’s mine. And you know what? In the end this firm will be stronger for my rise. You don’t have to like it but the innuendo and disrespect will stop.”

Mr. Costin leans back in his chair. “Or what?”

“Or you will regret it every day of your life.” I walk around the desk, reach forward, and brush some powdered sugar from his lapel. “Please don’t misjudge this situation. What happened to Tom wasn’t a fluke; it was a warning.”

“What are you saying? Are you asking me to fear you?” Mr. Costin asks. He means the words to be challenging but there’s a slight crack in his voice that reveals everything I need to know.

“I don’t have to ask for what I already have,” I say simply. “You’re still the boss. I will follow your directives. But remember, the way Tom treated me was unacceptable. I could have sued him for sexual harassment and I’m sure I’m not the only one. There was no lawsuit, only the threat of one. You should be grateful for that. You should be grateful that I haven’t brought you down, too. At least not yet.”

“You would bring down this whole company just to serve your own interests!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I calmly walk back around the desk and sit opposite him. “As long as I have this job, my best interests and the company’s best interests are synonymous. It’s you who compromises the company when you deliberately try to undermine my effectiveness. You say your choices were taken away but that’s not really true, is it? You could have offered this job to someone else. It would have been a huge risk but you could have done it. You didn’t. And now I’m here. You can’t erase me. You no longer have that power.”

I hesitate for just a split second after the words leave my mouth. My light is brighter now; it’s even a bit glaring and harsh, but it’s not a supernova. I can maintain this. All these years I’ve tried to play by others’ rules in order to keep myself from being erased like my sister was, but Robert’s shown me another way.

His is a scarier path, and I’m not entirely comfortable with it . . . but I can see now that it’s much more effective than anything I’ve tried before. This aggression, this power play? It will keep me visible and in turn it will be my protection against falling to my sister’s fate. A possibility that haunts me every day of my life.

“You f*cked a client,” Mr. Costin says. “There are consequences for that.”

“Of course there are.” I smile and slowly spread my arms out in an all-encompassing gesture. “You’re looking at them, Mr. Costin. Guess the consequences I live with are only the ones I want. Maybe that’s what I get for attracting the attention of an earthly god. Your words, not mine.”

Mr. Costin stares at me; his mouth is in a thin line, hinting at the hate he knows he must hold back. I smile again. He’ll see my smile as patronizing, or perhaps smug. It doesn’t matter though. I can smile anyway I like. These are my rules.

I get up to leave. I’ve made my point but as I start to turn Mr. Costin stops me.

“You aren’t the one pulling the strings here. That would be your lover, Mr. Dade.”

I turn, lock him in my gaze. “Mr. Dade is my lover,” I admit. “To my mind he’s the moon and I’m the ocean. You can blame the moon for the high tide but it’s the ocean that can flood your village. You’d be wise to respect us both. Oh, and Mr. Costin?” I say as I turn back toward the door. “That’s the last reference you will make to my sex life. Ever.”

And with that I walk out and go down to my office.

My new office. Where I belong.

* * *

THE DAY IS MINE. I call impromptu meetings with each department individually. It’s not how it’s normally done but things are changing based on my whims. Last night I submitted; today I master. Yin and yang. I can thrive in the extremes if I keep the balance.

It’s while I’m having a meeting with my old team that I get the call from the VP of Maned Wolf. As Robert had indicated earlier, they have another project for me, if I want it. They want me involved of course but they understand that I won’t be in the thick of it like I was the last time. After all, I have many teams to oversee. My job now is not just to lead but to pick leaders.

Asha looks at me expectantly, understanding everything from my half of the conversation. I look into her dark brown eyes and recall all the other ways she’s looked at me. With amusement, cruelty, even superiority. . . . I remember when she stood by my side, touching me without invitation, saying things she knew would demean me and make me feel small and vulnerable to her.

I hang up the phone and tell Daemon that he will be team leader. I see the looks of surprise on the consultants’ faces. Before my promotion Asha and I were the two people in this group who had the most seniority and accomplishments. Asha had trained Daemon once upon a time. He continues to pay dues that Asha has long since dispensed with. Asha’s brown skin picks up a rosy hue and her mouth turns down into a little grimace as I hand Daemon the scepter. She’s always so composed, even this small giveaway is a victory.

“What’s wrong, Asha?” I ask, unable to restrain myself.

“Not a thing,” she replies. She doesn’t want to show her aggrievement in front of her coworkers. That would be a sign of weakness.

But she will show that weakness, she’ll hang it out for the entire team to see. She’ll do so because I want her to.

I lean back in my chair. “I believe the lady doth protest too much. Do you have a problem with Daemon being your superior?”

I’ve chosen my words carefully.

Asha registers this and shifts slightly in her seat. “I don’t have a problem with Daemon being team leader.”

“That’s not what I asked,” I say, swiveling back and forth in my chair. This chair offers more support than my last. Its design keeps my posture straighter. It suits my mood. “Do you have a problem with Daemon being your superior?”

“No,” Asha says. The word is clipped, her anger evident.

“No what?” I ask.

Yes, she’s blushing now. I can see it. Who would have thought the malicious could blush.

You blush all the time. A little voice says. It’s my angel, speaking through the gag I’ve placed in her mouth. I squirm slightly at her implication but Asha is too caught up in her own humiliation to notice as she answers, “No, I don’t have a problem with Daemon being my superior.”

Now it’s Daemon who sits a little straighter. He smiles at Asha, his eyes impertinent, his gaze a little insulting. Asha turns redder still. I wrinkle my nose. I went too far and now the scent of this revenge is more sour than sweet.

“We’re done here,” I say quickly. “Daemon, I’ll have someone from Maned Wolf call you with more details about the project.”

“Of course, Miss. Fitzgerald.” His voice is deep with respect. I can tell he still wants me but he’s also a little afraid of me. He would never make a move unless I told him to.

He doesn’t feel that way about Asha. She’ll have problems with him. I could help her with that . . . if I felt like it.

I watch as they all file out of my office and wonder how it’s possible.

How is it possible that I never fully appreciated the symbiotic relationship between fear and power? Not just the fear of those who have to follow me but my own fear that inspires me to lead?

Fear motivates and encourages me like an admiring lover.

Like Robert Dade.