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Determined to have a peaceful lunch not thinking about how and why and if we should modify our relationship, I slipped on the outfit Nathaniel had laid out for me for the day and decided to eat lunch outside somewhere. I picked up my phone to text him, but didn’t. I’d send him a text when I made it to where I was going. I slippe
d the phone into my pocket, picked up the paperback I had been reading, and headed to the elevators.
It was eerily quiet. Apparently, everyone had meetings or somewhere to be. It almost felt as if I was the only person in the hotel. I saw no housekeeping carts, no conference attendees, no hotel employees. I stopped in front of the elevators, almost expecting Nathaniel to grab me for another scene like the one we’d had days earlier. But I told myself that was silly. He didn’t even know I’d left the room; there was no way he’d have planned a scene with that much uncertainty in it.
With fresh resolve, I held my head up and stepped into the waiting elevator. For the next hour or so, I was going to be Abby West. Maybe I’d go shopping or see if there was a park nearby. I briefly thought about calling Julie, but it was a weekday and she’d be working.
I almost missed it as I stepped out of the elevator and rounded the bar on my way to the exit. But it was a sound I normally heard when our family was outside playing, or Elizabeth had done something silly, or Henry giggled at Apollo’s tail. Or any of the tiny little things in a day that could make a man laugh. In fact, the last time I heard it was the day he told me I had no idea what he was planning to do to me the next day.
I hesitated only a minute before turning around and walking back to the bar. I stood as hidden as possible and craned my head to look around the cutout woodwork that marked the outline of the bar.
Sitting on a stool, looking carefree and happy and altogether so free it hit me in the pit of my stomach, was Nathaniel. And on the stool beside him was Charlene, looking as smug as the cat who’d just feasted on the world’s largest canary.
I wanted to turn and walk away, but my feet wouldn’t move. Charlene leaned close to Nathaniel and said something I couldn’t hear. She didn’t touch him, but to be honest, she didn’t have to. Her body language alone was enough to convey every thought she had. And Nathaniel appeared to welcome it.
Jealousy is a strange character. You can never predict when he’ll show up or what it’ll be over. It didn’t even have to make sense. I knew Nathaniel would never cheat on me. But as I watched him with her, the idea wouldn’t leave my mind: what if he only wanted to expand our collared time so he could have more control over me and, as a result, grant himself more freedom to spend time with women like Charlene?
You know him better, I told myself.
Maybe you only think you know him, I replied. After all, his note said he’d be in meetings all day, not that he’d take a break and entertain a known bitch in the hotel bar.
I whipped out my cell phone. Heading to lunch, Master. Not sure where I’m going. Can you get away and come with me?
From my position hiding near the bar, I watched as he took his phone out of his pocket and read my text. He typed something and my own phone vibrated.
Afraid not, Abigail. In too many meetings.
“In too many meetings, my ass,” I mumbled under my breath. Okay. Will let you know when I get back. I glanced up to see what he was doing, but both he and Charlene had left.
I waited for a few minutes thinking they might return, but the only person who came by was a hotel employee who wanted to know if she could bring me anything. I didn’t think it’d go over too well to ask if she could track down my husband, so I asked her if there was a place she could recommend for lunch.
The café she suggested was a short walk from the hotel, and since it wasn’t too hot, I took my time getting there. I tried to take in my surroundings, but my mind was too frazzled by what I’d just witnessed. Once I arrived at the café, I found a seat outside at a small wooden table and didn’t even try to read my novel.
I grabbed the notebook and pen I always carried in my purse and made a list of what I knew.
1. Nathaniel had grown a lot more sexually demanding lately.
2. He wanted to extend the time I wore his collar. (Still didn’t know what this meant.)
3. I liked it when he was demanding.
4. I didn’t like the feeling that something was going on I knew nothing about.
5. Something (I believed) was going on.
6. He had lunch or a date or a meeting with Charlene.
7. He sometimes got snippy when I brought up the blog.
8. Before we came to the conference, he had been working a lot of late nights.
I tapped my pen against the table. I was missing something. Somewhere there were dots that needed to be connected, but I couldn’t see where they were to start.
I wrote another list of things I knew.
1. Nathaniel wouldn’t cheat.
That pretty much summed up everything; I didn’t see a point in writing anything else. I sat back in my chair and looked at the two lists. Knowing that Nathaniel would never cheat meant his date or whatever with Charlene probably didn’t have anything to do with his need for dominance. Which meant I had two issues to deal with: his request for more play and Charlene.
The waitress came by and I placed my order for a salad with grilled chicken and water with lemon. She left, but I didn’t feel like going back to my lists, and the paperback, filled with other people’s romantic lives, suddenly didn’t look so appealing.
The vibration of my cell phone saved me from having to pick. I jerked it off the table and answered without looking at who had called. I was certain it was Nathaniel.
“Hello?” I said, fully expecting to hear his low and sultry voice.
“Hey, girl!” Felicia said.
I exhaled. “Oh, hey.”
“Sorry. I’m not who you’re expecting. I can hang up and call back later if you’re in the middle of something.”
I closed my eyes and reminded myself Felicia was my dearest and oldest friend. She was also eight months pregnant with her and Jackson’s fourth child. At her last doctor’s visit, they’d told her that her blood pressure was too high and she would have to spend the rest of her pregnancy on bed rest. As the mother of three, including high-energy twins, she’d once shared with me how she felt torn between doing what she knew was best for her unborn child and doing what she wanted for her other children. Jackson did his best to make sure she got the amount of rest she required, but they did not have a submissive/Dom relationship.
Roll all that together and you had a tightly wound ball of pregnancy hormones, mamma guilt, and stir-crazy just ready to explode.
“I thought you were Nathaniel,” I explained. “But I’m glad it’s you. I’ve been wondering how you’re doing.”
“I’m as big as a whale and getting bigger by the second. Jackson only lets me up to pee. He’d buy a bedpan if he didn’t think I’d beat him over the head with it.”
I had no doubt she’d do just that. Never say Jackson wasn’t a smart man.
“I’d say he’s only doing what he should be doing,” I said. “But you know that already. So instead I promise when we get back home, I’m coming to your house and we’re going to watch girlie movies. I’ll do your toenails and we’ll talk trash about our husbands.”
“I’m up for movies and trash talk, but there is no way in hell I’m letting you near my nails.”
“You’re never going to let me live down the fact that I mixed up top coat and base coat that one time, are you?”
“Not if I can help it.” She laughed. “What have you been up to? How’s Delaware?”
“Going okay. Miss you guys and the kids. But I’m meeting some nice people.” I twirled the straw in my water. Felicia hadn’t always been supportive of my submissive life. She wasn’t someone I could talk to about Nathaniel’s request.
“Nathaniel in meetings a lot?”
I hesitated, trying to decide how to reply and finally said, “He is today.”
“O-kay,” she said. “You don’t want to talk about it. We’ll change the subject. Linda’s going to pick up all the kids this afternoon and keep them until tomorrow. I don’t know what I’ll do with a quiet house.”
“Think about Linda with all five of our kids.”
“She’s a brave
woman. Last Thanksgiving about did me in.”
We both laughed, remembering. Jackson had been pretend flying one twin while the other one, along with Elizabeth, decided to “help” with dinner. Felicia had been with me in the other room and by the time anyone figured out what the kids were up to, the potatoes and stuffing, along with Linda’s signature crème brûlée, had been salted and sugared and peppered.
