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CHAPTER 1
TRINITY
Trinity's fingers danced across the polished countertop like a pianist poised before a symphony. Her every movement steeped in purpose as she prepared for the grand opening of Day & Night. The air pulsed with anticipation, thick with the scent of freshly ground coffee and the subtle hint of expectation. Today marked not just the unveiling of her new business, but the unfolding of a dream long cradled in the back corner of her mind. Her ex-husband laughed at her aspirations. She wastoo oldto go back to college, too oldto start a new business, but he wasn’ttoo oldto cheat on her with his secretary, start a new life and have babies after theirs were already in college.
With an empty house and nothing but time on her hands, she went back to school and received her MBA. Brick by brick, she rebuilt her life from the foundation up. She’d gone to a friend’s daughter’s wedding here in Grand Ridge and fell in love with the quaint town. The only place to get a good cup of coffee was a Starbucks in the lobby of one of the resorts. Corky’s Rusty Crab Diner had amazing food and strong black coffee, but no espresso or steamed milk. The town needed a coffee shop. Other than the ski resorts, there wasn’t much of a nightlife either. NoPaint & Sips, no karaoke, no wine. Determined to grab a good book to read in front of the fireplace at her resort, she went looking. Sadly, the hotel receptionist told her, the only place to get books was the big box store about forty minutes away. She could always order online and get a book within a couple days, or there was the local library, but she would need a library card to check a book out.
That night, after pouring a glass of her favorite full-bodied red wine, she came up with the idea of Day & Night—a coffee shop, wine bar and bookstore all in one. Writing up the business plan to take out a loan was another thing all together. After moving into a small townhouse, she spent so much time hanging out at The Rusty Crab. She became besties with a waitress around her age, Delilah, from The Rusty Crab. She found out from their chats that Corky’s had a pool table and bar that only opened at night, but it was mostly men who hung out there. The only other night hangout in town was an exclusive BDSM Club called The Citadel. Couples and women would frequent some of the theme nights at the local resorts or they would drive an hour into the next town over.
It had been over a year of planning and uphill battling, but today, she would open her dream business. And the town had been nothing but supportive. She’d met with Corky and the new baker in town several times. She hired them for breakfast, appetizers, and desserts for her establishment. Corky was initially mad about the establishment but grew less grumpy about losing potential customers once she made him her primary breakfast provider.
She moved around the front of the building with a fluid grace, each step an affirmation to her commitment to this space—a haven that would soon brim with the hum of conversation and the quiet rustle of page-turning. Trinity shifted behind the counter. Her eyes were alight with visions of the day turning intonight, the coffee cups exchanged for wine glasses, and literature bridging the hours between. She’d already planned a robust schedule—book clubs, Mommy and Me time in the morning, karaoke and craft beer, and crafting nights.
Turning her focus to the seating area, Trinity's hands skimmed over the plush chairs, arranging them like chess pieces on a board of intimate gatherings and whispered secrets. She fluffed the cushions, envisioning the bodies that would sink into their embrace, seeking solace or companionship within the warm confines of her establishment. She’d tested each one personally—nothing but the most comfortable was allowed in here.
Her gaze swept upward, admiring how the soft lighting draped over the room like a friendly hug, shadows bowing gracefully to the glow that promised comfort and allure. Each lightbulb cast a golden halo over the spaces where she imagined strangers would become friends, perhaps even lovers, under its tender watch. She giggled to herself, ever the romantic, although she’d given up on the idea for herself.
She reached behind her and flipped on the music. Her heart thrummed with the catchy beat, a heady mix of excitement and anticipation. It wasn’t just about the coffee or the books—it was the prospect of community, of weaving herself into the tapestry of shared stories and experiences. And beneath it all, lay the pulse of her deeper yearnings, the unspoken dance of dominance and submission that threaded through her very being. The more she’d shared her Little with Delilah, the more she wanted it to come out and play. She dreamed of hosting Little’s Playdates here in her own space, of having a safe, kink friendly place for her friends to hang out without judgment. The Citadel was nice, but it wasn’tnormal. She wanted a normal space outside of a BDSM club to allow herself to be free.
As she surveyed the room, Trinity allowed herself a moment to acknowledge the duality of her life—the businesswoman and the Little girl. Here, in the soft glow and comforting embrace of Day & Night, she found the strength to harbor both, her identity multifaceted as the shimmering surface of a well-loved jewel.
With a final, approving glance at the inviting atmosphere she had so lovingly curated, Trinity exhaled a breath. This was more than an opening; it was a declaration, a silent promise that here, within these walls, every soul could find a place to belong—including hers. It was proving him wrong and her right. She wasn’t too old for anything. In fact, she was very much still young. Age and wrinkles be damned. She moved to the back door, unlocked it and with a grateful heart, let in her new employees.
An hour later, Trinity glided between the bookshelves, her presence a calming whirlwind within the serene chaos of Day & Night's final preparatory moments. She caught the eye of both employees; her gaze intense yet comforting—a silent language that spoke volumes.
“Make sure the espresso machine sings like a sultry siren calling to the caffeine deprived,” she instructed Jasmine, whose deft fingers were already dancing across the steaming beast of chrome and heat.
“You are definitely a reader,” Jasmine said. “The phrases you come up with.” The young college student laughed but continued to work. She’d spent two years in Washington State working as a barista. Her experience was invaluable to Trinity.
“Max, those wine glasses should sparkle like diamonds under the chandeliers—guests will want to toast to their hearts' content tonight,” she said, with an assertive nod toward the bar area where Max polished each glass with meticulous care. He’d volunteered to take a dayshift to get ready for tonight’s soft opening of the bar. She was grateful for the extra hand.
Every direction she gave was wrapped in her passion for this place—a sanctuary for the senses, a haven for those who wandered in search of respite or revelation. Coffee to awaken the senses, wine to dull and relax them. Trinity moved among her team not as the owner, but as a conductor of an orchestra poised to play the sweetest symphony for the soul. For Trinity, a life without coffee, wine, and books was what she imagined hell would be like.
And then, with the same grace that she balanced her dual life, Trinity turned her attention to the books nestled between the dual indulgences of coffee and wine. Her fingers traced the spines with an almost devotional touch, aligning them with the precision of a ritual. The romance novels whispered of fervent desires, the thrillers promised heart-pounding secrets, and the poetry collections offered whispers of dreams penned in ink—all arranged to entice and invite exploration. Her favorite was the shelf of antique novels. She’d spent years combing through estate sales and antique stores looking for first editions and loved versions of classics.
“Every volume a doorway, every page a journey,” she murmured, fully aware that these stories echoed the chapters of her own unfolding saga. It wasn't just about aesthetics. It was about crafting an experience, setting the stage for stories to unfurl in the minds and lives of those who stepped through Day & Night's welcoming doors. Sure, she wanted to make money and earn a living, but she didn’t hope to get rich. If she could foster the love of reading within the community, she’d die a wealthy woman indeed.
With each book placed just so, Trinity's world seemed to align. The symmetry of her surroundings mirror the order she craved in the midst of her complex desires. Here, amid the scent of paper and the anticipation of new beginnings, she found a momentary peace.
As she stepped back to survey the fruits of her labor, Trinity's lips curved into a smile of satisfaction. The space around her hummed with potential, and she could almost hear the echo of Lucky's voice praising her, “Good job, Little Rabbit," in a tone that both soothed and commanded. But for now, she was the mistress ofthisrealm, ready to unlock the doors to her dream made manifest.
“Let's show them what Day & Night is all about,” she declared. And though the statement was for her team, it was also a vow to herself—to live fiercely, love boldly, and never lose sight of the woman she was meant to be, no matter how old she was. She’d done it; graduated college, taken out a business loan and put together this business. She was living for herself for once in her life.
Trinity glanced up from the espresso machine, a gleam of pride in her eyes as the first customer of the day approached the counter. The scent of dark roasted coffee beans mingled with the excited anticipation in the air.
“Welcome to Day & Night,” she greeted. It had a warmth that melted into the cozy atmosphere of the shop. “What can I brew for you on this fine morning?”
The customer, a woman in her mid-thirties with an air of harried determination, smiled gratefully at Trinity. “I've been looking forward to this opening for weeks. A cappuccino, please, strong, and hot.”
“Coming right up.” Trinity's hands danced across the machine with practiced ease, frothing milk into a cloud-like consistency. "You seem like a woman who conquers giants before breakfast.” Jasmine giggled at the machine next to hers, shaking her head slightly. She had on more than one occasion accused Trinity of being odd, but in a good way, she would reassure her.
The customer chuckled, a spark of camaraderie lighting her features. “Only the tiny ones. The big beasts wait until after my coffee.” As Trinity prepared her drink, she got to know the woman, a lawyer who worked for legal aid, helping low-income people in the justice system. Her office was down the street and Trinity hoped she would become a regular.
“I hope this helps you slay the dragons this afternoon.” Trinity presented the cappuccino with a flourish, the swirl of foam atop the rich brew a testament to her skill. “May your day be victorious.”
They continued their small talk that felt as natural as breathing. As Trinity watched the woman take her first sip, satisfaction bloomed as the customer's eyes closed in bliss. A warm feeling of satisfaction curled inside of Trinity’s gut. She cast a glance at the antique clock perched above the bookshelves, its hands inching toward the top of the hour. She’d been open only an hour and already met her daily sales goal.
Could she really do this? Have it all? She’d been fantasizing over owning a business by day and exploring the depths of her desires by night. Her heart yearned for both—a space where patrons sipped espresso while leafing through novels and a personal haven where she could surrender to the tender command of a Daddy Dom. The duality of her dreams sat heavy in her chest; a weight that threatened to unbalance the careful equilibrium she'd fought so hard to achieve.
