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“Not that I know of.” I racked my brain, trying to think of anything I could have possibly done to make Sine want to quit. “We were fine the last time I saw her.”
“When was that?”
“Friday afternoon, when we left the studio.” I didn’t even have to think to know the answer.
After our Thursday session...encounter...whatever label I gave it, I’d worried that Friday would be awkward, but it’d felt fine to me. I’d been tempted to push my luck and kiss her again, coax her into sleeping with me again, but she’d looked exhausted, so I simply smiled and told her to rest up.
“And you said she was sick yesterday?”
“Most of the weekend, based on the voicemail she left me. She looked tired on Friday.”
Jean sighed. “And you didn’t talk to her directly? Not since Friday. When she started feeling sick. Seriously, Alix?”
She had that same sort of exasperated sound that my mother got when I did something stupid.
“Do you call all of your employees at home if you think they’re sick?” I asked, disliking the defensive tone in my words.
There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. This time, however, her voice was soft. “She’s not just any employee though, is she?”
My chest tightened. Jean was right. Sine wasn’t just another model, or some random person hired to organize things for me. She wasn’t my girlfriend, but she deserved to have someone look after her. And I hadn’t done that.
Fuck.
I knew better.
The very core of being a good Dom was taking care of my submissive, and I hadn’t done that. It didn’t matter that we’d only been together a few times and that we weren’t a couple. She was more than some random fuck at Gilded Cage, or some girl I hired to pose for me.
“And she didn’t say why she was quitting?” I ran my hand through my hair. “I mean, she didn’t say that I did something...wrong?”
“No,” Jean admitted. “But I figured you must have because I didn’t believe for a minute that she hadn’t thought it all through before signing.”
“Shit,” I muttered.
“So, you did do something.”
Yes. I fucked her. More than once. In kinky ways. And I wanted to do more.
“No,” I lied.
“Then you better get your ass over to her place, apologize, and get her back.”
I scowled even as I looked for my shoes. “I said I didn’t do anything.”
“And I’ve turned forty-five for the past decade.”
I couldn’t remember Sine’s address. “Shit.”
“I’m hoping that’s because you know you screwed up and not as a commentary on my age.” Jean’s voice was dry, but didn’t sound pissed anymore, so that was good.
“I’ll take care of it,” I said. “I just have to find my phone. I have Sine’s address in it and now I can’t–”
“You’re talking on it.”
I closed my eyes. “Yes. Yes, I am. Sorry, my parents showing up just really threw me.”
“If you want to pretend that’s what it is, I won’t stop you.”
“Jean...”
“Let Sine know that I won’t be calling around for any replacements unless she comes in to see me herself.”
The call ended, leaving me staring at the phone and wondering when the hell my life had completely spun out of control.
