“You’re confused. Not about your feelings for Kate, which are obvious to everyone in this club, but about being a switch.”
“I am? Until Kate, I’ve always been dominant.”
“Every person is different. I’d say you’re about eighty percent dominant and twenty percent submissive. Don’t you realize all the times you’ve played with James and a sub, you’ve dominated the woman, but submitted to James?”
“What?” Chris exclaimed. His skin tingled, and his attention narrowed until it seemed as if only he and Scott remained in the room.
“Remember the last time the two of you tag-teamed Laura? Who was leading the scene?”
“James, of course.” Chris tried to catch up with Scott’s line of questioning.
“Of course?”
“Yes. He’s her Dom, after all.” Chris’s mind raced, looking for answers that weren’t there.
“True, but think about it.” Without another glance,Scott resumed his bartending. Chris chewed on his words—eighty percent Dominant but also submissive. Scott took his lukewarm beer and poured it down the drain. He wiped the countertop and placed a fresh bottle in front of Chris.Dominant with others, but submissive to Kate and James? It was a lot to wrap his head around.
Chris slapped his hand on the bar. “You might be right. I don’t always dominate, and I have no problem giving control to somebody I trust.”
Scott seemed pleased by his insight. “Does this answer your questions for now?”
“Yes, it does. Thanks, man.” Chris downed half his beer in one swallow and relaxed for the first time that night.
“Why don’t you grab one of the subs and do some topping?” Scott cocked his head to where Ruby and Sandra stood.
Chris shook his head. “Not in the right frame of mind.”
Scott nodded and didn’t move for several beats. “Are you up to manning the bar for a bit? Peter is due to relieve me at ten.” Scott looked at his wristwatch. “That’s only fifteen minutes.” Scott’s gaze went to Ruby again.
Chris followed his line of sight and chuckled. Both Chris and Scott had played with Ruby, and she was a delightful submissive—easy to communicate with and her responses were open. She was also a handful and more trouble than Chris liked.
Scott grinned in return and cocked his head.
“Sure thing.” Still chuckling, Chris rose to his feet and headed behind the bar. The switch apparently wore his Top-hat tonight.
CHAPTER SIX
“What now,TanteWilma?” Yvonne van Dijk tucked a strand of hair back into her ponytail. She and her Aunt Wilma spoke Dutch since the only customer in the shop was out of earshot. She been in Kansas City for three weeks and had barely left her uncle and aunt’s house. Her Uncle Cameron was recovering from a bad case of pneumonia following open-heart surgery, and Yvonne had come from the Netherlands to help for a few months. Cameron didn’t like strangers in the house and was much more comfortable with her help.
TanteWilma was a skilled designer, and although her husband had retired, she still enjoyed running her business. The shop served several purposes. It gave Wilma an outlet for her love of clothing and design. She was incredibly talented, especially when it came to remaking older out-of-style clothing into contemporary wonders. It also gave Wilma an opportunity to dispense advice to all who came in. Her customers were like the children she’d never had, and they all seemed to understand Wilma’s need to help. Lastly, it helped Wilma keep her fingers on the pulse of thearea. More than once, it had provided her with information on charitable opportunities the McGruders had become significant sponsors of.
Wilma had started her in the back, unpacking new fabrics and dresses, but since lunchtime she’d been helping in the main space with the slow but steady stream of customers. Although customers, they seemed more her aunt’s personal friends. Today seemed a general clothing and advice day. Right now, Wilma fitted a partially finished dress onto a slim, forty-something woman she seemed to know well.
“I think this dress will be perfect for you. Not too frilly, more elegant. You’ll look like Audrey Hepburn. You know she was Dutch, don’t you?”
“No, I didn’t know that.” The customer turned in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and Yvonne noticed how well the dress fit and suited the woman. “I learn something every time I come in here. I don’t think even one of your dresses will make me look like Hepburn, though. She was one of a kind.”
“True, but you have that same something about you she did, don’t you think so, Yvonne?” It wasn’t the first time Wilma had tried to include Yvonne in the conversation. Although Yvonne liked the interactions, she was self-conscious about her accent. Besides, she didn’t know half as much about clothes as her aunt did.
“I don’t really know,TanteWilma. I don’t think I ever saw her movies, except forMy Fair Lady,and this doesn’t look anything like her clothes in that.”
“Spoken like a diplomat. I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” The other woman smiled her way. “I’m Suzie Carmichael. Your aunt and uncle go to the same church as my family does. We’ve missed them both since his surgery.I’m so glad he’s doing better. You were the answer to many prayers when you arrived to help.”
“I… I don’t know what to say. I’m not a churchgoer, but thank you, I guess.” Taken aback and unsure of the appropriate response, Yvonne fixed her gaze on her shoes and tried not to fidget.
“That’s all right, dear. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Suzie patted Yvonne’s arm.
“Suzie, when I tell you to stand still, you will please do so,” Wilma interrupted.
