Page 64 of Slave

“I’m going to be later getting home than I planned. Don’t worry about dinner tonight. We’ll get something out and then go to the store.”

“Okay,” she said, still sounding relaxed and happy.

“I’ll call you when I leave so you can be ready.”

“Yes, Master.”

Our called disconnected a few seconds later, and I pushed my way through the rest of my work. It was after four by the time I was finished, and as promised I called her when I reached my car to let her know I was on my way.

When I arrived home, she was waiting for me as always just inside the door. Reaching out to her, I did what I’d been longing to do all day and ran my fingers through her hair. A breathy sigh escaped her lips as she leaned into my hand.

“Good evening, Brianna.”

“Good evening, Master.”

I took a step back and reached out a hand to help her stand. She took it and stood before me with her eyes cast down. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” she answered. Taking her by the hand, we got back into the elevator and headed to my car.

I took her to one of my favorite restaurants and asked for a booth in the back. This was going to be another first for her, and I didn’t want an audience should something go wrong.

We got a few curious looks from the hostess as she waited for us to take our seats. Brianna was doing well so far. While she had stuck close to me ever since we exited my car, I had not felt her stiffen as she had this weekend. I did have to acknowledge, however, that neither the sidewalk nor the restaurant were as filled with people as the mall had been.

The hostess handed us our menus and left us, saying our waiter would be with us shortly. It didn’t take me long to decide on what I wanted as I’d been here many times before. When I set my menu down I noticed that Brianna had not even looked at hers. “Do you know what you want?” I asked her.

Brianna’s eyes widened slightly at my question, but I just continued to wait. She knew I expected an answer.

First she looked down at her menu and then back up at me. “Am I allowed to choose?” she asked quietly.

“Of course,” I said trying to keep the surprise out of my voice.

A small smile tugged at her lips before she picked up her menu and began reading in earnest. I watched every movement she made. The smallest things gave her joy, and I was pleased to be part of giving her that.

I was still watching her when our waiter approached. There was no doubt as to when Brianna noticed him because every muscle in her body went rigid. Reaching for her hand, I linked our fingers and turned my attention to our server.

Roger, our waiter for the evening, set two glasses of water in front of us while introducing himself. After a few pleasantries, I ordered an appetizer and asked for a few more minutes. With a small bow he left us alone once again.

As soon as he was out of sight, I turned to Brianna, moved our linked hands down under the table, and brought my other hand up to turn her face toward me. “Number, Brianna.”

“Four,” she whispered.

I nodded. Truthfully I had been expecting her to say something higher. However, looking at her closely I could see that her breathing was still fairly steady and her color was good.

I rubbed her cheek gently with my thumb. “He won’t hurt you,” I said with conviction.

It took her a moment to respond, but when she did I saw her square her shoulders and nod. Her strength constantly amazed me.

I kept my hand in hers as I asked her if she’d made a selection. “The chicken parmesan,” she said, but it came out as more of a question.

I gave her a reassuring smile as I squeezed her hand. “That is an excellent choice.”

I noticed our waiter across the room at another table and got a sudden burst of inspiration. Angling my face so that I was not looking directly at her but could still see her reaction, I said, “When the waiter comes back to the table you will tell him what you want for dinner.”

There was nothing for a long second before I both felt and heard her reaction. Last week I would have jumped in and tried to comfort her right away, but tonight I wanted to see if she could get a hold of herself. She had the number system I’d given her and the safe words. Now I needed to see what, if anything, she would do with them.

I watched her panic continue to rise as our waiter walked to our table. He stood before us and smiled. “Are you ready to order?”

Neither of us responded for a long moment. I was almost ready to speak up since Roger was already eyeing Brianna with slight concern when I suddenly felt her grip on my hand tighten almost painfully and a small voice beside me say, “Chicken parmesan. Please.”

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