Page 139 of The Dommes

“Don’t call me that,” I finally say. “The woman you call Katie isn’t here.”

She approaches my bed, dressed in her usual work clothes of crisp pants, a red tucked-in shirt, a black and red striped tie, and a heavy charcoal jacket that looks too warm for this summery weather. Her hair is ruffled from the breeze, giving her a hint of a disheveled bad girl look in her otherwise pristine outfit.

I hate that I want her in my arms.

“Are you sure?” Ira puts down her briefcase. “I’m looking at her right now.”

Our eyes meet, mine bloodshot and covered in goop. The hazel of her eyes is particularly sharp today. It’s like everything I find physically attractive about her has come out in full force. The only way this could be worse is if she takes off her clothes and shows me the physique she works hard in the gym to achieve.

I wonder how fucking sexy she is bench pressing and jogging on a treadmill while reading a book or watching the news, sweat seeping through her clothes.

“You can’t flatter me,” I say. “You need to leave. I’ll call security.”

“I can’t leave until we talk through this.”

“What the fuck, Ira? I said everything I already had to say. You’re the one creepily breaking into people’s houses and acting like you’re entitled to something.”

“I don’t think I’m entitled to anything. I would, however, like to talk.” She gestures to the foot of my bed. “Can I sit?”

“Oh, you’re asking me for permission? It must be my birthday.”

Like the entitled asshole she is, Ira sits on my bed, her hand dangerously close to the crease where my feet are.

“I’m sorry, Kathleen.”

I let the silence simmer around us. All you can hear in my bedroom is the ticking of a wiry clock and the slight hum of the air conditioner. My soundproofed windows keep out the street noises, but I imagine there are cop cars, kids laughing, and adults yelling at one another. Birds chirping. Dogs barking. Life.

In here, it’s two people awkwardly interacting.

“Sorry about what?” This should be good.

Ira rearranges herself so she’s facing me, her tie slapping against the bed and her shirt wrinkling to meet her poor posture. “I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. That was rude of me to say, and not even how I really feel.”

Not how she really feels? Then why the hell did she say them? For fun? I wouldn’t put it past her. “You embarrassed me in front of our families.” Granted, I hadn’t improved the situation with my further comments, but I’m leaving that out. I was pushed to say them, after all.

“I want you to know something.”

She waits for me to reply. “What? Make it good. I have no patience and you’re about five seconds away from getting the official boot.”

You’d never guess I said those words to her just now. She’s too complacent. “When you walked away from me yesterday, I worried that I wouldn’t see you again. Funny, isn’t it? I know I’ll have to see you for work, even if we’re too pissed to work closely together. Yet I had it in my head that you were going to become some enigma from my past. The kind of woman who haunts me when I’m trying to sleep.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. Where did she learn this speech? Some how-to site? “Also the woman whose name you call during sex. Even if you’re not fucking her at the time.”

“That too.”

I settle into my pillow, staring at her through clouding eyes. If you walked into this room, you’d think I was the type of Sleeping Beauty who slept with her eyes open. Open and without any makeup. Shit, does that make Ira the Prince Charming come to wake me up from my slumber? Anything but, please.

I’d rather be awake for that.

“This is hard for me to say, let alone articulate…” Ira’s hand creeps dangerously close to my feet beneath the bed. “I like you. Very much.”

She’s kidding, right? “Like me. You like me.”

“Very much.”

“Boy, you weren’t kidding when you said you couldn’t articulate it well.”

“I’m serious, Katie. Don’t ask me to put better words to my feelings right now. Yet I definitely feel something for you. You’re more than a woman I casually hook up with. You’re even more than a friend. I’m not sure what you are. That’s the problem. I’ve never felt for someone what I feel for you, and that’s new for me. I need some time sorting it out.”

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