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But this…this is not.
Damn.
The woman is killing me.
Slowly and painfully…
It makes no sense at all.
All those years with Keira in Glasgow, and never once did I take her along when I returned to the States to see Mémé in New Orleans.
But what did I do, having known Mary for all of forty-eight hours?
I took her there.
I took her to my childhood home, introduced her to Mémé.
Hell, I’d introduce her to my parents tomorrow. All I’d have to do is get her on a flight to Glasgow.
So not me.
Or is it?
Could Mémé be right?
Maybe it’s time.
Maybe I do want more.
Yes, I want her as a full-time submissive, but perhaps…
Maybe I’m thinking about a family, children.
All those things I never thought I’d have the time or desire for.
One way to find out. It’s doubtful that Mary’s at the club. It’s Sunday night, and she has work in the morning. After she’s been off for a week.
So I’ll go to the club.
Maybe I’ll meet someone there. Maybe I need a scene. A scene with someone other than Mary. I ultimately chose not to play with Aurora at the club in Las Vegas, and perhaps that was my mistake.
Scenes remind me of what my life is truly about.
I’m not dressed in club gear, but I don’t care. Jeans and a button-down are good enough for tonight. I’ve never had any trouble attracting submissives, and I don’t expect to now.
I shove my phone back in my pocket, return to the car waiting at the curb, and ask Phillipe to take me to Black Rose Underground.
…
I head straight to a stool at the bar and order a scotch from tonight’s topless waitress.
Once I’m sipping, I look around. No Mary, but I do see her friend, Brenda—Lotus—sitting at a table with a nice-looking man.
I take my drink, rise, walk toward them.
“Good evening.”
Brenda widens her eyes at my voice. “Oh! Ronan, hi. This is my fiancé, Dalton.”
