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She glanced at Des, whose encouraging expression told her she could share whatever she wished without offending him. "Des has helped me understand a lot more about the psychology, so I can help my performers shine even more. For my own self..." She thought about it, aware of their eyes on her, but particularly Des's.
"I think I've found something that I want to keep exploring," she admitted. "I love having Des...do the things he does to me. It feels great, not to have to play games, to have everything laid out so bare and honest. It's scary sometimes, but it also feels peaceful. And wild and passionate, at the same time. If that makes sense."
She looked up to meet Thomas's understanding gaze. "It's exactly like that," he said. "Congratulations. Marcus was sure you'd embrace your submissive side with the right incentive and environment. Looks like you've got both here."
"So is there a secret handshake now that I'm in the club?" she asked. She felt a little shaky at having said so much to them. But the honesty had been the right tactic, because Marcus's gaze was less speculative and more relaxed, on both her and Des.
Though she'd known Marcus was a good friend, this version of his caring was new. During that look between him and Des, he'd almost intimidated her. Probably because his protective and Dom sides had hooked up and been on full power. She guessed her reaction was proof she did embrace a submissive side, though it was the Dom at her side that commanded her deepest responses and brought those cravings to life.
"Yes, there is a secret handshake," Thomas said seriously. "We'll show it to you at the special initiation rite where we'll sacrifice a nubile virgin."
"Okay. When does that happen?"
"It's like a rave." Marcus said. "You'll get a text telling you where to meet."
"Don't think I've ever tied up a virgin," Des said.
"You mean the BDSM world isn't overrun with innocent virgins?" Julie smirked. "Imagine that."
They ordered an appetizer while waiting for their meals, and the conversation started running the normal gamut for people getting to know one another. As she relaxed, she enjoyed watching Des handle himself with her friends. Since he was comfortable with almost everyone, she wasn't surprised to see that he, Marcus and Thomas were bantering in no time like guys did when they found common ground.
Thomas was an artist, and Des was almost as serious about his rope craft. Marcus had an appreciation for all art forms. They didn't leave her out, bringing her back into the conversation to talk more about how the latest performance went and how the theater would do going forward. After she laid out the current projects, Marcus was studying her thoughtfully again.
"Sounds like you won't be coming home for some time."
"I'll make runs up to help Belinda, though she's doing a good job without me. She'd probably be okay with me turning it over to her permanently. The board we set up when we incorporated as a nonprofit love her."
"How about your parents?" Thomas asked. "When will they be back in the States?"
"Probably not for another six months. Mom is in love with Singapore right now. She wants me to come visit her there, and I probably will when our schedules match up. She'll be thrilled if I can ask her for a plus one ticket." Julie glanced at Des. "Want to go to Singapore in about six months, if I haven't managed to scare you off?"
"Can I use the ticket even if you have?"
"Sure. I'll tell them to put you in the cargo bay."
"Ouch." He flicked her hair off her brow. "You think your Mom will like me?"
"Oh, don't waste your energy." Julie grimaced. "She'll wish you were a hedge fund manager or a distant relation to the British royal family. She keeps hoping that in my little theater 'hobby' I'll meet an intensely rich and well connected investor. He'll whisk me away and let me live in luxury while I give him two point five children before I die of boredom or a Xanax overdose. But once she gets over that, yeah, she'll air kiss you just like she does me."
At Des's concerned look, Marcus lifted his beer to draw his attention. "Julie loves her mother. She just has her firmly planted in a reality scape that gives no quarter."
"It's the best way to love Mom," Julie said practically. "Dad is so vague when it comes to dealing with family, you don't need to worry about him. He likely won't remember your name two minutes after he meets you. He goes through life like a rubber duck dropped square in the middle of a lake, floating along with no real direction when it comes to family. But he's sharp with money. He's connected to a Spanish royal line that goes back centuries, so there's always been family money. He hires really good people to keep it making money for him and supporting us--Mom, my brother, sister and me--in the way he wants."
At his quizzical look, she grinned. "Yeah, I guess I can trust you now. I doubt you're a gold digger. My family's loaded. In my twenties, I went through this rebellious phase where I was determined to earn my own way, not rely on their money. Dad, as mild-mannered as he is about everything else, nearly had an aneurysm. It took me a while to pull my head out of my ass and realize it had to do with him, not me. He had no problem with me working long hours and establishing a solid reputation in theater business. He just couldn't handle me doing something as lowbrow as accepting a paycheck for it."
Des blinked and she laughed. "Yeah, I know how it sounds. But he was much happier when I went from paid stage work to community theater, and that was our compromise." Julie imitated her father's smooth Spanish accent. 'Go find something meaningful, querida, something that engages your passions. Change the world. Just honor your father by allowing him to care for you while you do.'
"He still fusses because I don't care anything about having a house or a fancy car, all the things my siblings have, but he's come a long way since our initial fights about it. Oh, and just a side note. Mom was a short-lived B-film star. She's a knockout still."
"Turtle and rabbits," Des recalled. "Except for the knockout part. Now I know where you got your looks."
"That was so the right thing to say." She curled her hands around his arm again and hugged it to her breasts. "Seriously, we could have a great time in Singapore, so think about it. We'd have to do some family stuff, but then we could tour Malaysia or Indonesia. Mom and Dad would pay for everything, so the only lost income would be from any jobs you missed. And remember, it's not a pride thing. It would genuinely hurt them if I didn't let them handle the trip for both of us."
"I've had the pleasure of meeting Mr. and Mrs. Ramirez, and everything she says is dead accurate," Marcus added. "Her father has a very Old World sense of honor, but it's oddly touching. And unchangeable."
The conversation moved from there to other, less personal matters. Commercials on the surrounding TV screens, more about Marcus and Thomas's life up in New York and Julie's, when she was living there. She noticed Des was participating, but as their dinner moved into the second hour, he was getting quieter, doing more listening and smiling, though there was a slight strain to his face. His appetite was off, because he only ate half of the small meal he ordered, the rest untouched on his plate. He wasn't feeling well.
She was sure of it, but there was no way she could draw attention to it without ruffling his feathers. That was the problem about getting so close to someone so fast, while at the same time not having enough of a foundation to justify acting...well, wifely. A scary word to pop into her head, but she couldn't deny the drive.
