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“Get a grip,” I say out loud to myself.
She’s not mine—although that’s the word that comes to my mind when I think about her.
I’m not cut from that cloth, and neither is she.
If I were cut from that cloth, I would be making a life with Keira in Glasgow right now.
Except…
I feel something for Mary that I never felt for Keira. Which makes absolutely no sense. I hardly know the woman.
But I feel as if—as my grandmother would say—we are souls that have encountered each other before, during different lives.
“Absolutely not,” I say, again out loud.
Jennifer knocks and opens the door. “Your flight’s all set. You leave tonight at seven p.m. from LaGuardia. First class seat on United.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” I close my mouth and then open it, ready to ask her to get Mary a seat on the same flight, but then I close it again quickly.
I need to stay focused.
Normally I wouldn’t even tell a submissive that I’m leaving, but I feel like I should let Mary know.
I send her a quick text.
Afraid I won’t be able to meet you at the club this weekend as planned. I have to fly to Las Vegas on business. I’ll be back Sunday.
I wait for her reply.
It doesn’t come.
She’s probably just busy.
Except she’s probably not busy, because she took the rest of this week off.
Still…it’s not my business. Perhaps she won’t be upset at all that I’m going to be gone this weekend.
And if that’s the case, I need to take that as a sign. That whatever this is that I’m feeling for her is nothing.
Nothing more than meeting a new person that I have a lot of rapport with.
Leave it at that.
Jen comes in again. “Your lunch is here. Do you want me to set it out for you?”
“Yeah, please. Thanks.”
Jennifer opens the bag of takeout and sets it out on the little table on the other side of my office. “From the kosher deli down the street,” she says. “Turkey and avocado with bacon on sourdough. Potato salad and freshly brewed iced tea.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
“Not a problem. I’m going to lunch now. I’ve got my phone on me if you need anything.”
“Great. Have a good lunch.”
I rise, walk over to my small table, and take a sip of the iced tea, cooling my parched throat.
I’ve been thinking about Mary since last night. Since I left her at her apartment without so much as a good-night kiss.
