Page 31 of A Good Girl's Guide to Dominance
I roll my eyes before sipping my wine. “Ugh. I don't even know where all of that came from. Sierra has always been very robotic, but she and I have never had drama like the shit she came into my office with.”
“It came from you,” Rome says. “She must've had a thought or feeling about you before now, but your pitch, and my reaction to it, was enough to push her over the edge. Your presentation was perfect. I understand her concern for being replaced. Although it’s unwarranted, your talents being on display made her question her own. I don't like it, but I get it. You were phenomenal.”
My smile is filled with blush that reddens my cheeks. “Thank you. Jeremiah and I are a good team.”
“I see that. Did the two of you discuss how you would present the pitch if you actually won?”
“Not really. I figured we’d cross that bridge when we got there, and there was no guarantee that we ever would.”
“True, but now you're here, about to cross a very shaky and unpredictable bridge. Are you ready?”
I nod. “As ready as I’ll ever be. You'll be there with me, though, right?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Because we both know Nix’s reputation, and it wouldn't surprise me if he’s rude when he doesn't like what he hears. I imagine someone like him has no fear of acting ridiculously when he isn't a fan of something. Who the hell would ever tell him to stop?”
“I would,” Rome answers quickly, his gaze trained on me. “While I am aware of Nix’s reputation, I would never allow him to disrespect you in any way. You don't have to worry about that.”
With wide eyes I ask, “You're going to stand up to Nix Malone?”
“If I had to, to make sure you feel safe? Yes.”
A smirk crawls onto my mouth as I look at Rome for signs of joking, but he never shows any. His face doesn't twitch and he definitely doesn't laugh. He gives no indication whatsoever that he’s kidding, only a stone face and a fiery gaze.
“You're serious?” I ask.
“Of course. Why wouldn't I be?”
“Because it’s Nix Malone. He and Solomon King are the most feared people in this city. Why would you think you could stand up to them?”
“To make sure that you feel safe,” he says again, this time with emphasis to make sure I get it. He even lifts his eyebrows and stares at me, really pushing the point.
Rome is as serious as a heart attack. It’s so incredible that he would be serious about this that all I can do is giggle. It just keeps coming, doesn't it? The looks. The demeanor. The Dom vibes. He clearly has money since he bought Sandcastle and we’re currently sitting in a restaurant that his father owned. He’s polite and doesn't shy away from complimenting me, then turns around and tells me how he would defend me against the city’s most notorious villains. He is practically piling on the unfairness at this point.
As I laugh at my thoughts and shake my head, Rome’s head tilts as the waiter comes to the table to take our orders. We breeze through our selections and have our glasses of water and wine refilled, and the second we’re alone again, Rome smirks.
“What was so funny?” he asks.
I shake my head again, still in disbelief of it all. “It’s just … you. It’s … I don't even know how to explain it—or if I should.”
He watches me without speaking, waiting patiently for me to continue, and the silence makes me feel obligated to keep going.
“Look,” I say, my brows raised. “It’s like I told you in the breakroom the other day. I’m a submissive, and you just carry very Dominant vibes. I’m sure you're not into it or whatever, but saying that you would protect me from known gangsters and then gazing at me with that look on your face is just unfair. You're too much, and Sierra has already caught me staring at you, and I have been through the ringer with men in my private life. I … ugh … let me stop. I should've never ordered wine before dinner.”
Rome lifts his brows to the top of his forehead, a tiny smirk tempting his lips. I’m so embarrassed at how I just let all of that out, all I can do is lift my wine glass and knock back what’s left of it, wishing it could make him forget everything I just said. If only being wine buzzed came with magical powers of amnesia. Unfortunately, it doesn't, and Rome looks at me with an amused expression on his face.
He shakes his head slightly, thoughts clearly running rampant in his mind, and I’m convinced that he is about to get up and walk out. Surely this is over, and it wouldn't surprise me if he decided that I shouldn't pitch to Nix after this humiliating display I just put on. I should spare myself the embarrassment and walk out before he has a chance to say anything that will make me feel worse, but I sit and wait, my body on the tracks in front of an oncoming train.
“That’s twice that you've said that to me,” he says. “You're a submissive. What does that mean to you?”
I eye him cautiously, wondering what road he's about to take us down. I've never been asked that before, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
“What does being a submissive mean to me?” I repeat, baffled by the question. “Do you know what a submissive is?”
“Yes,” he replies flatly and with no hesitation. “I know what it has come to mean to the rest of the world, and I know what it means to me, but I want to know what it means to you.”
My brow furrows because … why is he asking me this? Even more importantly, what is my answer?
