Page 10 of Love Bank
“Oh, um, I’m not Mr. Sutter.”
My hand floated back down to my side. “Who’s Mr. Sutter?”
“The warden.” Unspoken was the “duh” I could see practically float through her brain.
I pasted on a renewed smile. “Oh, pardon me. I didn’t know who the warden was.”
“Mr. Sutter.” She nodded at me slowly.
I nodded back. “Yes, Mr. Sutter.”
What was going on here? Why were we talking in circles? I needed to pull this conversation back on track in a hurry or else I’d still be here late into the night confirming Mr. Sutter was indeed the warden.
I pulled myself up tall and used my business voice. “I’m here to see Mr. Sutter, please.”
“Oh! Sure. Right this way.” She jumped into action, spinning around and walking toward the door behind her. She swung it open and then quickly left, leaving me by myself to face the warden.
I took a step forward, sucking in a deep breath and collecting my thoughts. I needed to be direct. Kind, but forceful. Explain the situation calmly and get the warden’s assurance it would be managed better in the future.
My gaze panned across the room, seeing the wide window view showing my clinic and the Cat Society next door quite clearly. I kept sweeping until everything slowed down into some time warp mind bend cartoon where everything goes horribly wrong and you can pinpoint the exact second the shit hit the fan.
This was my second and the shit spreading across the room took the form of shame and embarrassment of epic proportions.
Sitting behind a giant desk in a leather chair was my spank bank obsession.
Specimen #264 in the flesh.
Hello, sperm. Meet your father.
This time, his jaw was relaxed, his eyes were open, and he most definitely saw me.
“What can I do for you, Miss Eureka?”
Oh, you’ve already done it.
I blinked hard, but he was still there, a smug little smile on his face while I stood there like a mute child about to pee her pants. A weird fluttering sensation took up low in my gut. I’d never peed myself before, at least not as an adult, but maybe I’d finally reached that age when it started to happen. Shock could do that to a person.
“You okay? Doin’ a lot of blinking over there.”
I froze again, realizing I’d been blinking at the man repeatedly like I’d lost a contact somewhere in my eye.
A bray of laughter erupted and I smoothly walked farther into the room to have a seat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. The laughter, or maybe it was the stiff-legged walk on heels that suddenly felt five inches high, must not have come off as convincing. He frowned at me, reminding me of how intense he’d looked just the other day, his head tossed back on my sofa.
I rubbed my sweaty palms on my skirt and had a seat, plopping down unceremoniously just as my knees gave out on me. Jesus. Getting older sure was hell on the body. First my bladder, now my joints.
“Hi!”
Well, for nugget’s sake, I could come up with something more than that. I sat up straighter and tried to get the visual of him spread out on the couch, cock in hand, out of my mind. I cleared my throat and tried again.
“Your inmates are whacking off at my place.” I gestured out the window, but quickly pulled my hand back down when I saw it was shaking. And then I realized that wasn’t quite the way to lead into an introduction. Why were conversations with humans so difficult?
The warden didn’t even look out the window. His brown eyes widened for a split second. I blinked and they were normal again, so maybe I just imagined it. Maybe people came into his office all the time talking about spanking the monkey. How the hell would I know what’s normal in a jailhouse?
“Oh, you must be from next door, right?” His face went slack like he was bored of the conversation already.
His implication finally penetrated my addled brain. He was going to act like he’d never stepped foot in my clinic when I knew for a fact he’d slapped the salami less than forty-eight hours ago in my back room. I’d eyed his swimmers just this morning.
Okay, fine, I’d play along with him.
