Page 78 of The Dommes

“Where are we going?” Kathleen asks, dangerously close to me. “You were so adamant about private that I doubt we’re going to the corner café.”

“Hell no.” I flag Vivian and hand her my work materials. Not dragging those to lunch, and I don’t trust anyone else around here enough to leave them in a corner. I wait for my assistant to walk off before addressing Kathleen again. “I can get us a private booth at the restaurant down the street from here. The lunch place.”

“Can you now?” She almost looks impressed. Almost. Kathleen comes from money. She’s rarely impressed.

“Indeed I can. Shall we? Let’s walk. I need the fresh air.”

It’s a five-minute walk. Along the way, we pass the bustle of the city at noon, with taxis nearly mowing over pedestrians and people yelling at each other from across the street. Not unusual, but downtown is what you get. There are so many people on the sidewalk this time of day that Kathleen hugs her purse close to her chest and herself closer to me. I’m her protector? I doubt in this part of town many people would try something, but we reek of money. I don’t quite put my arm around her, but I do put my hands in my coat pockets and open it wide enough to block the view of her purse from the other pedestrians. If she notices, she doesn’t let on.

Fine with me.

We stop at one last busy intersection. I see the restaurant from here, but this light is notoriously long. The fresh air is doing wonders for my mind. Clearing it. Keeping me from overdosing on Kathleen’s elegant perfume.

Someone bumps into her.

“Excuse me!” An elderly gentleman holds up his hand. “I got bumped into you, it seems.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.” She covers the zipper of her purse anyway.

“My, what a handsome couple. So nice to see a good-looking pair like you around here.” The man tips his hat and goes along his way.

Kathleen clears her throat. I suck in my breath.

“That man thinks we’re a couple.”

I wish this goddamn light would change already. “Well, we are about the same age. Old guys tend to think I’m a man. We are often pegged as being together.”

The light finally changes. We cross the street, my strides matching Kathleen’s.

“Are we a couple?”

I stop in the middle of the street. Someone behind me curses, and I’m forced to step out of the way. “What?”

Kathleen keeps going. “Never mind!” she calls.

I follow. This is going to be a trip of a lunch.

Chapter 31

Kathleen

We’re supposed to be talking, but there’s hardly any time between being seated and half the staff trying to serve us breadsticks and water. While on the one hand, I’m grateful I’m given time to breathe and collect my thoughts, the other hand says to get this over with.

I’m also embarrassed that I blurted out that question in the middle of the street like that. Excuse me! That man totally threw me off. What was I supposed to say?

He thought Ira and I were a couple. Did we look that comfortable with each other? Although she and I are… yeah… I don’t know if I would say I’m super comfortable around her yet. Partly because of this weird mind-fucking shit going on.

“Tuscan salad, please.” I hand the waiter the menu I barely perused. “Italian dressing.”

I don’t hear what Ira orders besides a glass of wine for herself. “You want anything?” she asks. “The red here is great.”

Wine? Yes. Yes, please. I’ll need it. At least we’re in public, where I won’t get relaxed enough to suggest she collar and take me like a Domme right here on the table.

Ugh. Fuck me. She looks so good today. A little flustered, but so damn in control and oblivious to the problems of the world. Ira Mathison only cares about her work right now. The woman’s in some of the best-looking jeans I’ve seen on a woman. In case that’s too casual, though, she’s in a smart blue shirt and a designer business jacket on top. Her hair looks recently cut, combed just right over her eyes and ears. Sort of a rugged bad girl look but easily tamed without much difference.

I want her to kiss me. I want to kiss her.

Except I don’t know where we stand. When I so foolishly went to her and asked her to… God, what even was it? What was I thinking? Why haven’t I called her to cancel? This is what we’re here about, isn’t it?

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