“Are you serious?” Deena got the goofiest grin on her face. “You’re opening your own place?”
A little thrill went through him every time he thought about it. His place. It could be her place, too, though she wouldn’t be waiting tables. “I’m basically going into business with the Taggarts, but it’s going to be mine.”
She was quiet for a moment, her hands in her lap as he pulled into his parking space. He got out of the car but she stayed inside. Another thing he’d trained her to do. He opened her door and helped her down since his truck was a bit oversized and he didn’t want her to twist her ankle jumping out of it. That was a bit of a lie. He simply wanted that moment when she was in his arms, that second when she held on to him for support before finding her footing.
He opened the door and suddenly he was the one trying not to fall. She launched herself at him, her arms and legs winding around him.
“I’m so happy for you!” She let out a squeal and kissed him as she held on. “You’re going to be Chef!”
He held on to her, loving the way she felt in his arms. “It’s still a franchise and I have to run the big things by Sean. He and Big Tag are helping finance me. It’s going to be a while before I’m all on my own.”
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered in his ear. “You deserve it, Eric. You’re an amazing chef and you’re going to be an awesome boss.” She kissed him again, this time on the cheek. “But you should hire a business manager because you suck at math.”
He eased her down, not letting go even when she was steady. “I suck at math?”
She chuckled but wouldn’t back down. “You do. Oh, you can do all the fractions you like, but I’ve seen you try to balance a checkbook and you get angry at it.”
“The banks deliberately make that confusing.” He defended himself even though he knew she was right.
She shook her head, her hands running up his side as though she couldn’t help but touch him. “Nope. They do try to make it easy. It’s all money in and money out. What’s going to happen when you have to add in projection costs and…oh, no, the dreaded payroll accounting.”
Thank god he could cook because all those other things kind of gave him the hives. “I was hoping that someone smarter than me would kind of guide me down that path. Maybe some super intelligent woman who managed to put herself through college and who’s about to earn a highly rated business degree.”
She stepped back and that wall between them seemed to slam into place again. “Wow, uhm, of course I’ll look at your plans, but like I said, I have a job lined up.”
What had put that look on her face? Did she think he was trying to use her? “Hey, I wasn’t asking you to work for free. I would pay you a consultation fee.”
She shook her head and seemed to brush it off. “Don’t be silly. I would love to take a look at your business plan and very likely tear it apart and tell you all the places you’re going wrong. No. Seriously, I’ll give it a look and tell you what I think. And I would love to see the space. I like the Sundance location, but you better have foot traffic.”
He was relieved the awkward moment had passed. “I absolutely have foot traffic. And the Bass is right down the street. I thought I could pick up some of the after-theater crowd.”
She went up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. “Good. E-mail it to me or print it out and bring in what you have and I’ll give you my opinion. My new job happens to be in downtown Fort Worth, so I expect free lunches. Also, I’m not wearing a puppy collar. I’m a free-range puppy. I’m very well trained.”
He would simply leave the pink collar and leash he’d bought for her in his locker and she would never have to know. “Of course.”
She grinned then turned and started to walk toward the club. Damn, but he liked to watch her walk, her hips swaying.
He should have thought about that leash. She’d been leashed for much of her life. It would rankle. She enjoyed submission on a sexual level. It gave her permission to enjoy the sex, but Deena would always need to know she was a partner in play. It was why he feared she wouldn’t enjoy life with some random Dom who wouldn’t understand why she was here and what she needed deep down.
He followed her, feeling more optimistic than he had before.
* * * *
Eric was leaving Top. Eric was starting his own restaurant.
Eric wasn’t Eddie.
That was her new mantra. She looked down at the pretty sapphire-colored corset and tiny PVC mini she was wearing, sure reminders of the fact that her new friend wasn’t anything like her old husband. Eddie had rarely bought her a birthday gift, much less something as decadent and luxurious as a new set of fet wear. It had been waiting for her the day after what she now referred to as Butt Plug Armageddon. Once Eric had decided to take control, he’d bought her three new sets of club wear. There was the one she was wearing, a super slutty mini dress with fuck me heels, and a red corset with the tiniest thong she’d ever seen. They all made her feel sexy and just the right side of trashy and…
Taken care of. Those stupid clothes made her feel taken care of.
Though he’d merely said he enjoyed buying clothes for his sub and hinted that he would do it for any sub, she wasn’t stupid. He’d done it for her because he’d seen the sad state of her clothes and understood how they made her feel.
He was too good to be true. Had she found the flaw? He needed business help and she was good at business. Everyone knew what her degree was in. Well, if she managed to pass.
“You look very serious for a girl about to bark all night,” Tiff said with a glint in her eye.
She stared at her friend through the mirror. It was all happening so fast. It was going to be hard to leave Top, but she would still have this club.
Maybe.
How would she handle seeing Eric with another sub? Their contract only lasted so long and she already knew how dangerous it would be to sign another with him. If she let herself, she would fall in love with the man, and that couldn’t happen.
She forced the thoughts away and closed her locker, turning to Tiffany. “I am not a yippy puppy. I’m a free-range puppy. You let him put a collar on you?”
Tiffany was wearing a thin silver collar around her neck that was attached to a rhinestone-studded leash. She laughed and waved off the thought. “It’s only play, D. It’s not like I’m actually a puppy. Gage and I are having some fun. I’m pretty sure that when I start chewing on his leathers I can get him to swat my ass with a rolled up newspaper.”
Sounded like a fun Thursday night. “I don’t know. It kind of freaks me out a little.”
Tiff sighed and leaned against the lockers. “Because you already had one man treat you like shit and you had to watch your mom go through it, too. I, on the other hand, was treated like a princess by Mommy and Daddy and therefore can have a sense of humor about the whole dog thing. Also, growing up my mother always had a Maltese. Seriously, they were all named Gucci and we numbered them. When my mom died, she was buried in a coffin that smelled like Chanel and we had to get special permission to inter the dogs’ ashes with her. The mausoleum my parents want me to one day join them in also houses six Maltese dogs in designer urns. Somewhere in heaven they’re yipping and eating caviar while my mom lunches with Audrey Hepburn.”
Tiffany had an odd life. A sudden thought hit Deena. Tiff adored her father and he came into Top on a regular basis, but she never talked much about her upbringing. Deena only knew it had been privileged. “Tell me you weren’t named for the jewelry store.”
Tiff winced. “Sorry, can’t do it. Have you met my sisters, Burberry and Versace? I got the easy end of that stick.”
“Why are you doing this training class and the internship? You could afford to buy a membership to Sanctum.”
“Number one, I like babies so the idea of paying my way into a membership by watching babies doesn’t bother me at all. I would do that for free. Babies make me happy. My sisters will never have them. Berry says having children would ruin her figure and she’s trying to become a supermodel. I tried to tell her that years of eating like crap already ruined her figure, but she’s an optimist, and V is living in a tent in France because she doesn’t want to leave a footprint on the fragile earth. Her words, not mine. She’ll probably have a ton of kids because she thinks birth control pills will give her cancer, so she counts the days on some weird beaded stick thing. Yeah, those beads aren’t going to stop Frenchie’s sperm, but she thinks she knows better. Number two, I don’t have a lot of money. My dad does. Would he give it to me? In a heartbeat. The trouble is he raised me way too well. He raised me to want to make something of myself. What can I say? I want to make my dad proud and that means working hard. Number three, I want to paint.”
“You can paint without starving.”
“Yes, but what would I paint? What would it mean? The world is a way bigger place than it seems. I want to see it, be a part of it, and I can’t do that if I’m behind some ornate wall designed by Karl Lagerfeld. At the end of the day everyone has it rough. That’s what I’ve figured out. Rich, poor, beautiful, or unattractive we all have something to get through and it always feels like the end of the world. It’s what makes us human.”