Page 39 of Serving the Maestro

“Good afternoon, Mr. Dixson.”

“Hey, Howard.” I believed that was his name. “How are you?”

“I’m well, sir. And you?”

“Good, thanks.” Walking over to the windows lining one wall, I stared outside.

“Wonderful. Sir, you have a visitor—Ms. Avery Gilmore.”

“What?” I frowned, wondering how she’d tracked me down. “Okay, send her on up.”

What in the hell was Avery doing here?

I hadn’t seen her in...I did the mental math, then scowled as I realized it had been over a year. I’d known Avery for more than a decade, ever since I took my first step into the world of BDSM. She’d introduced me to a whole new world I’d never even imagined. We hadn’t been together for years, but we were still friends. And she was, until recently, the only woman I couldn’t say no to.

What was she doing here?

I was still trying to figure it out when the doorbell rang.

Avery beamed at me from over the threshold, and when she stepped forward to hug me, I automatically opened my arms to accept. “Avery, hey.”

Her scent was familiar, as were the lush curves, the soft curls, and the smile she gave me after stepping back.

There had been a time when just the sight of her was enough to bring me to aching readiness. A hundred memories were stirred by the scent of her, and how she’d looked stretched out on a bed, with her round, curvy ass flushed red from a spanking.

Not now.

“Hi, Trent.”

“Avery.” For the first time in years, I felt...awkward. Although Jazz wasn’t home, I had to fight the urge to peek out the door toward her apartment.

What the fuck?

Guilt.

What in the fuck did I have to feel guilty for? Jazz and I weren’t in a relationship outside of my agreement to help try to impregnate her—and her agreement to be my sub.

We’d never even discussed exclusivity. That was for a monogamous romantic relationship. We definitely didn’t have that.

“Trent?”

Forcing a smile, I shook my head. “Sorry. Brain’s still in work mode.”

“I figured.” Lips curving in a fond smile, she kissed my cheek. “You’re so talented. I don’t know how you slip into this...creative state and do what you do.”

“That’s a nice way of saying I lose track of everything and everybody while I’m working on projects,” I said with a smile. I stepped back and gestured for Avery to come in. “What brings you to New York?”

She sauntered in, her head swinging back and forth as she took in the apartment where I’d been living for the past month. It wasn’t until she reached the sitting area of the open floor plan and sat on the edge of the couch that she answered.

“You do, baby.” She crossed her legs and gave me a slow smile filled with sensual promise.

I stood by the door, feeling stupidly awkward. Turning away from her, I took a deep breath and slowly closed the door.

“Yeah?” Facing her again, I started for the sitting area. I took the fat armchair across from her rather than the couch, hoping she wouldn’t notice my intentions to steer clear of her. “And why is that?”

“I thought maybe you could use a friend.” She offered a playful, warm smile. “I’m hearing from some mutuals you’ve been in a funk lately.”

I had a feeling it would be something like that. The scene we both belonged to wasn’t necessarily small, but it was small enough, and I’d spent a lot of time with Avery. Next to Stephan, my relationship with her was the only one that had lasted more than a few weeks.

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