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The submissive went straight for the black satin with rhinestones. Her Dominant nodded his approval.
“Can I help you with that?” Abigail offered.
The Dominant responded on the woman’s behalf. “I’ve got it.”
As he laced her into it, Abigail’s friend Kaylee stopped by the booth. Her frown was at odds with her fun, quirky elf hat.
“Did you hear?” Kaylee demanded.
“No.” Abigail frowned. Kaylee’s breathing was sharp, showing her agitation. “What’s the matter?”
“Asshole Frost is filling-in as Santa. And I’m his helper.”
“Oh no. That has to be a nightmare.” She scowled on her friend’s behalf. “Can you get someone else to do it?”
“I would, except…” She blew out a breath. “He knows how much I want to go to my sister’s wedding. So he promised me the time off, with pay. And he bought me the plane ticket. First class.”
“He’s still an asshole.” Abigail meant it.
“He knows my weak spots.”
The man was a master manipulator. As Kaylee often said, Machiavelli had nothing on Evan Frost. “Let’s go have a drink after Christmas and talk about him.”
“I’m in.” For the first time, Kaylee smiled. “Anyway, I need to meet up with the jerk so we can get Santa’s bag ready.” With a quick wave, she headed down the hallway.
Mistress Aviana had requested that all attendees bring a gift, which Frost would hand out after the parade.
Abigail returned her attention to her customers. The submissive tried on almost every item they had in her size. In the end, the Dom bought three different corsets: black, white, and red. Perfect for any occasion.
As soon as Abigail was finished helping the couple, two ladies decided to buy skirts that they could wear to the following year’s renaissance festival.
She wrapped their selections in tissue paper and placed them in pretty handle bags.
At that moment, Master Hayes McCall pushed through the frosted glass door leading into the club. Her heart skipped its next few beats only to gallop frantically a moment later. Wearing a dark suit coat and white dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the throat, he was devastatingly handsome.
Before tonight she hadn’t realized how broad he was. Or how good looking. His hair was a little unkempt, and an untamed lock fell across his forehead.
Even across the distance, his green eyes seized her attention. Heavens above. He totally overwhelmed her.
Before they left the booth, one of the women whispered, “Mercy! That man is my Christmas wish.”
In another time and place, Abigail might have agreed with them.
Hayes paused, and their gazes connected.
Submissive heat collided inside her, making her knees wobble.
Then—God no—he started to walk in her direction.
She told herself he could continue past her on the way to visit a different vendor.
But then he stopped right in front of her.
She needed to say something. Instead, she stood there, frozen in place.
“Hello. Abigail, is it?”
Where was her voice? Instead of replying, she settled for nodding. How did he know her name?
