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“Deacon?”
I realized I’d completely missed what Celeste said to me. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I asked if you’d be open to a couple of questions about your experience with Charlotte.”
“Why?” I asked.
“You were Charlotte’s first client and her first foray into exploring her kink. In these situations, Catherine and I often like to have a small chat to glean more information for her next client. It would be helpful for Charlotte and her new clients if we could give them more detailed information about the level and intensity of Charlotte’s praise kink.”
“Charlotte booked with another client?” I asked as a hot wave of jealousy washed over me.
“She’s dropping by Wednesday evening to review the client list again. We have some new ones, and I’m confident one or two will match her needs. So, would you classify Charlotte’s praise kink as mild, moderate, or intense?”
“I’m booking Charlotte for Wednesday night.”
There was silence, and then Celeste said, “I’m sorry?”
“I’ve changed my mind. I want to book Charlotte for Wednesday night,” I said as that hot jealousy bumped and thumped through my veins.
“Oh, I… well, all right. I’ll text Charlotte and check her availability,” Celeste said. “Your usual time, I assume?”
“Yes,” I said. “Thank you, Celeste.”
“You’re welcome.”
I ended the call and tossed my phone on the table before staring at the simmering sauce. What the fuck was I doing? I couldn’t see Charlotte again.
If you don’t, someone else will.
That bitter jealousy reared its head, and I paced the kitchen. Why the fuck did I think Charlotte would stop working at the agency when I stopped booking her? The thought of her being touched by another, of her being called a good girl by someone who wasn’t me, of her soft pussy and perfect breasts being touched and tasted and…
I sucked in a deep breath. Okay, booking with Charlotte was a gut reaction on my part, but I could still salvage this. Tomorrow I would talk to Charlotte and convince her that working at the agency wasn’t in her best interest. Once she agreed with me, I’d cancel the Wednesday night booking. Aiden paid his admin staff good wages. What possible reason could she have for needing the extra money?
CHAPTER 21
Riley
“Sweetheart, we didn’t get the extra money yesterday. Why didn’t you send it?” My mother’s voice sent a wave of weariness over me.
It was noon on Tuesday, and while Deacon had spent the entire morning in the boardroom with various finance team members, I’d spent the morning with nothing to do and my brain refusing to shut up about Deacon booking me for Wednesday night.
I had no idea what was going on and desperately wanted to talk to him about his change of mind, but even if he hadn’t been in meetings, I couldn’t use working hours to discuss my personal life with him, even if it involved him.
“Riley?” My mother’s voice turned sharp. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” I said, turning my chair around to somewhat muffle the conversation from anyone in the hallway. “Sorry, it’s busy at work today.”
“You’re on lunch,” she said. “You don’t have time to talk to your own mother during your lunch hour?”
“I do,” I said. “How are you feeling?”
“The same,” she said. “Exhausted and in a lot of pain. Could you send the extra money today? We need to pay the utility bill.”
“I didn’t get a shift on Sunday,” I said. “It’s why I didn’t send you money yesterday.”
If my mother thought it was weird that I worked a retail job that paid me after every individual shift, she didn’t mention it. She sighed and said, “I guess we have candles if they shut off the power.”
Guilt ran rampant through my belly. I’d held back the hundred dollar tip from my last session with Deacon. My headaches were getting worse, and I needed to get the glasses but faced with the prospect of my parents sitting in the dark, what did it matter if I had to squint to read?
