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“And I am a submissive,” she added.
“And me, what am I?” I threw back, annoyed at the labels.
“You, my dear, are the spanner in his works. You’ve thrown him into a state of turmoil.” She smiled subtly.
I unfolded my arms and scratched my head. “I don’t understand.”
“Stefan likes to be in control, yes? You’ve clearly noticed that, even in the short time you’ve known him.
When he’s stressed—and he is at the moment, because of family issues, but other times in the past, too—he seeks out companionship and sex. It’s what he does. I provide him with what he needs. He gives me what I need too.”
“What you need?”
“Not love or romance. Nothing like that. We don’t date. No dinners out or walking hand in hand along The Backs.”
She paused and I had no doubts that Stefan had told her about our Saturday together. “We fuck, as you say so elegantly.”
“That simple. Fantastic for you,” I sneered.
“Yes, it is. And you know it is for you, or else why are you here trying to fathom him out?”
Her honesty kept me pinned in my seat and not storming out through the door. “When did you first meet?”
“Three years ago.”
My open mouth of surprise must have been obvious, because she gave a small shrug.
“We were introduced through mutual friends. I have to be clear here, Callie. I’m not the only one. He has been with other women at the same time. Not ménages and not recently, as far as I’m aware, but in the past.”
“And you don’t have a problem with this?”
“No.” She lay her hands flat on the table—impeccably manicured fingernails. “Stefan doesn’t socialize much. I’m big into the networking side, so it is easier for me to meet people and introduce them to him.”
Every new revelation stung me. I’d not expected any of what she was telling me. I’d imagined that Stefan, who professed he didn’t date, simply slept around and lied about it. I didn’t interrupt. I wanted to know more. I was finding out more from a woman I should have been despising than Stefan had ever told me himself.
“He interviewed me—”
“Interviewed?” I repeated.
“To ensure compatibility between us. Some men I go with like lots of rules, but Stefan is quite relaxed and informal about things. We usually meet once a month, although more recently I’ve been very busy setting up my fourth salon, so we’ve slipped. Monday was the first time in nearly two months.”
“But this is all about sex, nothing else,” I pointed out, trying hard not to imagine her with him.
She smiled. “It depends how you define sex. Does sitting naked at his feet count?”
I scowled. She caught the lack of amusement in my response and the grin left her face.
“It’s always about sex,” she admitted. “But never love. I want you to understand. I do not love Stefan. He’s my friend. I care about him, look after his house when he is abroad, but there is nothing to bind us beyond what we do together.”
I slumped back in my chair. I should have felt relief, but confusion still reigned. “You’re not angry with him for having sex with me? Dating me?”
“No. It’s none of my business.” She clasped her hands together and looked quite businesslike in her posh hair salon, surrounded by expensive décor.
“Why? I mean, why do you let him…?” I stumbled to find the right word.
“Use me?” She waved an arm about her. “All this you see about us—bloody hard work. Years of investing to realize my dream. I started out as a lowly hairdresser sweeping dead hair off the floor and now, at thirty-five, I own four salons. It’s stressful. Stefan takes that burden off my shoulders for a short time and lets me fly free.”
She was older than him. A little envy struck me. How had she stayed so youthful?
