"What's going on in that brain of yours?" Preston presses, thankfully continuing to walk this time.
Nibbling on the inside of my cheek, I chance a look at his face and once again only see curiosity and openness. I blow out a breath. "I was thinking it must be distracting. A hangout room near the offices could be nice. For the... girls."
"Amazing," Preston praises and turns the corner into what seems to be his office. "Please, take a seat, Lulu. I have an idea."
The beanbag chair in the corner sparks my interest. Then there's the low hanging bookshelf and bin of coloring supplies. I must stare at it for too long because he chuckles. "Yeah. My friends' Little girls often need somewhere to breathe, so your idea is perfect."
"There will be many kids around?" I'm not sure I'm good with kids. I've never been around them but maybe my job won't be with them so I won't have to find out how horrible I am at it.
Preston takes a seat in the leather chair behind the desk. With his arms resting on the dark-brown wood, he once again overwhelms me with his intense attention. "Sit, please."
Gulping, I do as he says. Instead of placing my butt in the cushy corner, I sit stiffly in the seat opposite him. Do I make eye contact or look away? I don't know what to do. My socialization skills are lower than low.
"I'm assuming Bash and Sue told you this is a kink-friendly establishment. There will be multiple nondisclosure forms you'll need to sign and additional trainings if there are terms, lifestyles you don't understand. We will be very strict about this being a no- judgement zone. We have other options, places to go, to provide the people who need shelter and support if they can't follow these expectations as guests. Same goes for our staff. Tell me, Lulu, do you understand?"
Gosh, I think I'm going to cry. "Yes, sir." He's scaring me.
"What do you know about kink dynamics?" His take-no-nonsense tone and the way he’s putting me on the spot has my muscles tensing and trembling. "Shit, I'm sorry, little one. Take a breath."
He tells me to breathe like his order is law. My body sure seems to think so. "S-sorry. I know a few th-things. Um, I-I won't judge anyone. Promise!"
"Okay, Lue. I?—"
"Don't call me that." My eyes widen with horror. I cut him off. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. I'll g?—"
"Lulu, you'll stay in your seat."
I do as he says.
"It's me who needs to apologize. I should have asked before giving you a nickname. I'm mucking this up. You're one of my first interviews."
"Oh..." What do I say now? Where's the handbook? "Well, I can wash dishes. I know how to mop and sweep. I'll clean."
Leaning back in his chair he rubs his lip with his thumb. "I have a better idea. You have a good eye for improvements that could make this place more comfortable and welcoming. I'd love your opinions and ideas."
Pulling my gaze away from his plump lips, I flush. "Y-you want my opinions?" Nobody has ever wanted to hear me talk, let alone know what I think about something.
"Yes, little one." He looks so genuine...
It makes me want to know more. "Why do you call me that?"
He cocks his head, and gives me a little smile. "I'd like to tell you about myself, then I want to know more about you. Okay?"
I nod, because what else am I supposed to do? Absently, I stroke the strings coming off of Binks to ground myself. My father always made me feel so small and insignificant. This is new territory for me except I still feel Little. Like Prestonbuilding me up and making me feel important is tugging on my Little side too.
The beanbag chair is calling my name. So much so that I accidentally glance at it.
"Let's get more comfortable," he suggests. I watch him stand and seat himself in the big chair near the beanbag and when he gestures to the cozy corner, I blush so hard. He notices.
Even so, I'm incapable of denying myself the experience. Flopping into the beanbag chair, I sigh contentedly. I don't think I've ever been so comfortable in my life.
What if I never have the opportunity again? Preston could decide I'm too messed-up to work here and send me home. I don't know if I'll ever gather the courage to find another job if this doesn't work. Then I would be stuck in that cold, deteriorating house I grew up in forever. Until it collapses around me and I decay with it.
A warm touch pulls me from the prison of my anxious mind. Blinking, I see Preston leaning close with his hand on my knee. He's not frowning, he's smiling actually. It's small but it does wonders to help me lean back and snuggle my blanket.
"I see I'm losing you to some yucky thoughts, so I'll start. My name is Preston Bailey. I studied psychology in college and completed my Master’s degree. Reclaiming Red has been my dream and after my parents died, I decided this was something I needed to do. I knew they would be proud and supportive, so I pushed forward and found like-minded people who helped me build this place."
"Wow," I breathe. Are there hearts in my eyes?
