Page 57 of Daddy's Rules

Chapter Fifteen

Jordan

I watch Owen walk on the beach with Hope and Crash. Hope is falling behind sniffing at a chunk of seaweed that’s washed up on the beach and Crash is kicking sand all over as he tries to pull Owen forward faster. I smile, thinking of how much they’ve grown in the last six months, especially Hope, who I’m sure is going to be huge. She’s already more than seventy pounds. I return my attention to the two women sitting in our living room. Windows surround three sides of the room flooding it with light. I’m wondering if that’s why I suddenly see every flaw on Kari-Anne’s eager face.

“More tea, Belinda?” I ask the CEO of one of the largest investment firms in North America, who looks perfectly at home sitting on our cozy navy sofa with dog toys scattered around her designer shoes.

“Oh, no, I’m still working on this one. Thank you. I’m so fascinated by your story, I keep forgetting I have it in front of me.”

“She is fascinating, isn’t she?” Kari-Anne pipes up. Belinda’s intense gray eyes shoot to Kari-Anne’s face before she turns back to me with a patient smile.

Belinda’s husband owns a very successful magazine and Kari-Anne is quite obviously using me to network, but I’m good with it. After all, it benefits me as well. And I only promised to take this meeting after she did something for me.

Kari-Anne, who, I hate to admit, is a pretty great writer, wrote a fantastic piece on Fine, Furry, and Fabulous, which effectively got my business and conservation efforts some serious attention. The article also managed to paint our BDSM lifestyle in a favorable light so we could go out in public again without too much judgment. Kari-Anne’s editor, a trailblazer, also loved the piece so much she wanted to do another focusing on the lifestyle. Although, Owen and I hadn’t agreed to being a part of it yet.

Belinda clears her throat. “Before I make an offer,” she says, folding her hands on her lap and leaning forward. Her eyes narrow and I feel the weight of her stare as if it’s physical. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” I say politely, sitting on the window seat, holding my nerves and excitement in check.

“You’re a submissive?”

My eyes flit to Kari-Anne’s and she blushes, but I’m not self-conscious about it anymore. “Yes, I am.”

“Do you think you can handle yourself in the business world?” She’s deadpanning me and instead of feeling even the slightest bit intimidated, I cross my legs and stare back with confidence.

“I can, without a doubt, handle myself,” I offer seriously. “Being a submissive is a choice, a personal decision, a lifestyle,” I look back at Kari-Anne and continue, “one I am not ashamed of. And has no bearing on my business.” I stand, effectively ending our meeting. “Does your sex life affect yours?”

“No, of course not,” she replies, a flicker of sheepishness playing on her features before she regains her composure. I’d done my research on the woman. She and her husband had been recently outed as members of a swingers club.

“Then neither of us has any need to delve further into each other’s personal lives, yes?”

She smiles, nodding and it’s not what I’m expecting. “You’re definitely not a pushover, Jordan and I like that about you.”

“Fax me your offer, Belinda and I’ll consider it.” I reach out to take her hand, shaking it with a firm confident grip.

“Thank you for taking a meeting with me. I’ll get you that offer within twenty-four hours.”

Belinda leaves first, but Kari-Anne hangs back a moment. “Jordan, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course,” I say as I pick up the cups from the living room.

“I owe you an explanation for the way I’ve been targeting you all these years.”

“Oh?” I’m incredibly curious to hear her reasons but I don’t want to show her any eagerness. I don’t want her to know how much she hurt me. Giving her that would be giving her power and that’s the last thing I want her to have.

“It was the show.”

I wrinkle my forehead at her words. “The show?”

“The sitcom.” She huffs impatiently. “The one you got because your dad said he wouldn’t star in the producer’s next movie unless you got the role.”

“Oh.” I hated thinking about that stupid sitcom. Or any of my time as a child actress. “What about it?”

“I had the part before it was given to you.”

“Honestly, I didn’t know. I’m sorry you lost it because of me.” I look down a moment. “I didn’t even want it.”

“I needed that role, Jordan. My mom was sick and couldn’t work. I was going to help her get treatment and keep food on the table for me and my younger brother, Andy, with that sitcom. But you got it instead and when I overheard why, I hated you.” Her shoulders fall. “Especially when I heard how much trouble you caused for the director.” She swallows. “I thought you were a spoiled brat all these years.”

---