Control (Songs of Submission #4)(2)

“I want to curl up next to you and go to sleep.”

“Have I told you how amazing you are? You please the hell out of me.”

She didn’t answer right away. My little goddess of Echo Park must have been smiling. “Wait until you see the underpants I just made a mess of. They’re gonna please you plenty.”

“Buy everything.”

The next pause wasn’t as pleasant. “I want to talk about this.”

“We can talk tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at five.”

“Are we going to lie in bed and watch the Dodgers lose game six?”

“You’re not supposed to ask a man where he’s taking you.” She grumbled. My goddess was a big baseball fan. She probably thought I hadn’t noticed or had forgotten.

After she’d left the previous morning, when I drifted off to sleep with her humming and stroking my hair, I leaned back in my office chair, looking out the window and thinking of her. Hours later, I called her and asked her on a date.

“A real date?” she’d asked. “Like dinner or a movie or something?”

“I know a nice place. We’ll have some wine. Good food. You know, like people do.” I’d looked out over the Hollywood Hills. I had to see her again. I had an ache for her that phone calls and texts wouldn’t satisfy. It started the minute she left and had grown to uncontrollable levels in the hours since.

“Well, that’s fine and all,” she’d said, “but just so you know, I don’t f**k on the first date.”

I’d been laughing when my assistant came in. I indicated she should sit and took the schedule she offered me. “I need you to get something to wear,” I said into the phone.

“Oh, not again.”

“Again and again. I’m in a meeting.” I looked over my schedule for the next day. “Can I text you?”

“You’re avoiding my refusal.”

“I won’t be late. So be ready. Dressed and ready.”

“Thanks for the clarification.”

“You’re welcome.”

I’d tossed the phone aside, glanced at my schedule, and glanced at Kristin. “I have a meeting with my ex-wife at six thirty?”

“You said to take any meeting she wanted.”

“I did. Cancel the meeting and cancel the standing order. She goes on the schedule like everyone else.” Kristin shook her foot and nodded, her body a barrel of emotional tells. She was so transparent, I had no idea how she’d gotten through Vassar without those bitches eating her alive. “Yes?”

“Are you making your lunch with Eddie tomorrow, or do you want to meet Gerald Deritts from Council 12? He called and had an opening on the mixed-use ordinance.”

“Cancel Eddie.”

“Sheila’s stuck on the 405. She’s added this to the agenda.” She’d handed me a folder.

“Ah, our trust,” I’d murmured as I flipped through it. When we got engaged, I set up a trust for Jessica that provided for everything she needed. Though she had taste and social standing, she couldn’t manage a dollar. When we divorced, I’d intended to revoke her benefits, but never had. I’d been such a pu**y. I’d told myself she hadn’t taken a dime from me because I needed to believe it. The withdrawals didn’t hurt me, but she’d continued to take money from the trust, and I owned the building her studio was in and didn’t charge her rent. There were other incidentals I’d probably forgotten. “Tell Sheila I want to review all my financial entanglements with my ex-wife. Book that for next week.”

Kristen had pursed her lips. I could have asked her what was on her mind, but it wasn’t worth a conversation. Her crush was cute when I’d hired her, but it was getting less so. I’d said no, I didn’t want to sleep with her. Further conversation about that, or why I wouldn’t bend over backward to see Jessica anymore, would be unproductive.

After dismissing Kristin, I’d tried to get back to work, but my thoughts were consumed with Monica. In anticipation of our date the next day, I opened an account at Bordelle for her. When I texted her the info, she shot back…

—An account? For all the girls?—

—Just opened it. Go. For me.—

The next day, she called me from the dressing room to thank me, and I couldn’t help it. I had to have her, and I did. She got on her knees when I told her to. She slipped easily into play and out again, becoming her witty, intelligent self seamlessly. She wasn’t intimidated by me. She teased and challenged me. She kissed like she meant it, and from the very first night, she enjoyed f**king without reservation or shame.

Monica was, in a word, perfect.

CHAPTER 3.

MONICA

I was bag laden as I walked to the café. Jonathan had called Bordelle and told them to wrap up everything I’d put in the dressing room. So I went to Nordstrom’s and got my own goddamn dress. I hoped he liked it because it set me back two weeks’ tips, a lot of money for something that would end up draped over the chair on his porch. But I needed to feel right with myself. I accepted him as a dominant in bed, and that worked out very well for us. In the outside world, I was my own woman.

Except for the eight hundred dollars in lingerie.

I rushed to the entrance of Terra Café. Yvonne sat at a patio table with her fourteen-month-old, scooping ice cream out of a cup.