Rebecca

Death destroys everything.

It happened in an instant. A sudden sharp pain in the chest, gasping for breath, and then a heart stopped. I wished mine had stopped beating with his. I wished I could take back the words I’d said just seconds before he clutched his chest and crashed to the floor.

“Do you even still love me?”

Having signed the last bit of my shares from Exclusive over to the board, I pushed the document away. I was no longer COO of Exclusive, the makeup and luxury skin care products my husband and I built from the ground up with seed money from his parents and our life savings. A new man stood at the helm, and I couldn’t stomach seeing someone else sit in Joshua’s chair. He couldn’t possibly fill the void, and I simply wanted to disappear. They said time heals all wounds, but it didn’t. They bury themselves in the skin, deep where they can’t be seen, and shovel dirt over it until only itchy scars remain with phantom pains of remembered loss. I still scratched at them, after two years since Joshua’s death, hoping they’d bleed me dry, and just maybe I wouldn’t have to hold everything together.

Smiling at Arlon as he shook my hand, his firm grip warm in my hand, I kept that same smile as he directed me to the door. Goodbyes were sort of like death; there was so much left to say, not enough time, and you would always have just a touch of regret. It should have been easy for me, but it wasn’t. Because I had to hold everything at bay—the screams and tears, along with the pleasantries I wanted to paint with acerbic fuck yous. How did they know how I feel? How could they ever hope to understand?

“We will continue to stick to the vision you and your husband created, I promise,” Arlon swore.

I blinked, emerging from my fog. I had to perform now. “Of that, I have no doubt. You’ve been with this company since we gained our first fifty employees, and you’ve worked your fingers to the bone. That sort of dedication is to be rewarded.”

“Not in the way I had hoped.”

His eyes were soft with pity, and I want to scratch them out of his skull and stomp them into the ground. I didn’t want pity. I wanted to fly away, into the sun, and never look back. I wanted to never have to make a decision again, not even one as simple as when I brushed my teeth. But Arlon wouldn’t understand that. Not in his trim Armani suit and dazzling, bright smile. I’d made him a multi-millionaire, and it showed. He’d received the ultimate pay raise, and I knew, deep inside, he wondered if I ever had the chops to run this company together in the first place.

“This company was designed with two owners in mind. My husband handled the men’s department, while I added my touch to the women’s. It’s not the same now.”

Each step I took echoed loudly in my head like gunshots, turning the marbled flooring of the executive offices into a tomb hoping to close me in. I walked a bit faster, my heels morphing to rapid-fire artillery as we passed the reception desk, past the bright-red logo of Exclusive, and toward the private elevators.

“If you need anything …” He let his voice trail off.

“I’m fine,” I replied.

But I wasn’t. I was a shell. A woman half of what I should have been and nothing like I wanted to be. Joshua’s death hadn’t just taken the love of my life away from me; it stole my will to live in a world where I commanded everything. I slipped into the elevator and held my breath until the doors closed, then I fell back against the wall. The Mandarin collar on my white silk blouse was too tight, cutting off my air. The simple, black pencil skirt I wore was itchy against my skin, and my garter belt seemed inappropriate. As the elevator moved down, I was gripped with anxiety. The outside world was too large, and I didn’t know if I could handle it as I searched my bag for my phone. Blindly, I dialed the only number that mattered anymore.

“Becca?”

“Can you meet me at the office?” I wheezed out.

“I’m on my way. Just wait a few minutes.”

If I didn’t have Wren, I’d probably lose my mind. In the almost two years I’d known her, she’d calmed me when things got too rough, threatened to jump off the bridge with me if I thought I’d go alone, and was there when I called. Considering she worked from home writing gorgeously filthy romance novels, it made it easier for her. I’d met her just when Joshua died, when I’d moved out of our home and into a condo in the Galleria area of Houston. She’d just moved in with her boyfriend, and they’d opened their home to me when there were nights I couldn’t be alone.

The elevator doors opened with a quiet whoosh and I stepped out. The entrance to Exclusive had always been my pride and joy. Joshua had let me talk him into a Him vs. Her design, and we went as far to put a line down the center of the room to enhance the drastic change. On the left side of the room, the furniture consisted of black, streamlined seats with chrome and glass tables. The lighting was housed in chrome faux scones, and handsome men in suits and ties decorated the walls. On the right side, the design was drastically different with colorful, overstuffed couches, warm, wooden tables, and soft, yellow light. Joshua and I went with a focused look at the female form with portraits on white backgrounds with women of all different races wearing their premier matte lipstick line. At the center of it all was a dual-sided reception desk, designed to match the décor, with a male and female receptionist. The look warmed me, despite the heaviness of my heart. No matter what came, Joshua and my mark remained on the health and beauty industry.

“Come on, girly. Let’s blow this joint.”

I turned to find Wren, signature red lipstick and smoky eyes in place, waiting for me near the front. She wore an overlong black sweater with white leggings and black kid boots to close everything off.

“Thank you,” I whispered, not trusting my voice to say much more.

“Always. I vote for beer, really dark beer, or wine. Looks like you need it.”

“I’m game.”

“Did you drive here?”

I shook my head. “No. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel after everything was done.”

“My car it is.”

Her car was a two-seater silver BMW i8 parked just off to the side in the loading area. I slid against the supple seat and buckled my seatbelt.

“How bad did it get?” she asked as she got in.

“Worse than I hoped, and not much better than I expected.”

“You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. It’s been two years, Becca. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but every time you step near your old world, you lose it. What are you going to do to take care of yourself since you sold everything to separate from your company?”

“I hadn’t thought that far. I … couldn’t. Everything roars so loud for attention, and I don’t think I’ve had a chance to come to terms with it all. I just don’t’ want to do anything for myself anymore. And living in that big condo all by myself seems so empty. I can’t explain it.”

Wren didn’t answer, and I didn’t try to explain as we weaved through light traffic. We hit Westheimer, and I knew where she was taking me. Allowing the valet to take the car, we headed into Saks Fifth Avenue for a private lunch at 51fifteen. The ultrachic restaurant was quintessential Houston, and I loved it the moment I first saw it. Nothing said a good time like cocktails and delicious food. My stomach cramped as we got inside, though; I didn’t know if I could handle too many people.

“Relax. I had an area reserved for us. I know how you are right now,” Wren said.

The waiter showed us to our table and we received our menu options. It only took a few more minutes to get our wine and food ordered before the waiter was gone again.

“Spill,” Wren told me.

I sighed. The restaurant was empty on our side, and I knew the lunch rush hadn’t made it in. “It’s too much. All of it.”

“Honey, you have to live. From what you’ve told me, Joshua wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

“But I don’t know how to live without him. I just don’t want to do all of this anymore.”

“What is this?”

“Decisions.” I blinked, not sure if I could explain what it was I was feeling. “I’ve been in control of every little thing for so long. My emotions. I kept a smile on my face for the board and the interviews. The news outlets have finally left my story alone, but I’m sure the changeover in power will spark the stories again. I just want to be … cared for.”

“You want to start dating again?”

“I wouldn’t call it dating. I haven’t let a man touch me since Joshua died, and I don’t know if I can give my heart to anyone, but I miss company.”

The waiter returned and we thanked him for our soup and salad. The poblano bisque soup and sliced iceberg wedge salad were staples of 51fifteen. Wren dug into her salad and chewed, studying me.

“What?” I asked.

“You were born here, right? You dad was a psychiatrist and your mother a neurosurgeon?”

“Yes. What’s this about?”

Wren nodded, as if I hadn’t asked her a thing. “Where did you go to school?”

“University of Texas. Why?”

“Top of your class, or somewhere in the middle?”

“I graduated summa cum laude, but you’re not answering my question.”

Wren took a sip of her wine first. “What if I had a way for you to get the companionship you needed, without the hassle of dating, and maybe you could find a way to give up all that control?”

“I’d say you’re crazy.”

“Seriously, Becca.”

I frowned at her around a bite of salad. “I don’t get what you mean.”

“I want to help you, like I was helped. You’ve been so sad, but this is the first time you’ve ever talked about wanting someone in your life.”

“I don’t need any blind dates.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. You need a Dom, and a good one at that.”

“A what?”

“A Dom. Did you ever notice how I am with Blake?”

I thought about it. Typically, when Blake was home, Wren lit up like a Christmas tree. Her face glowed with some timeless knowledge and I felt like an interloper at moments.

“You’re giddy happy,” I commented.

“Deeper than that.”

“Well, you wait for him to tell you if something is okay before you do it.”

“Yes,” she said with soft smile. “I allow him to give me direction.”

I was still confused. “What does that have to do with me?”

“It takes one to know one, is what I’m saying. You want to be a submissive. That’s that urge to be controlled, to give your life into someone else’s hands. Their control means you don’t have to have it. It’s been part of your life for so long you don’t know how to give it up, but now that things have spiraled, you crave it.”

I thought about what she said, not too sure, but intrigued. Having someone have that sort of say over my life was appealing in a way I hadn’t realized, but I didn’t think I could give it to a total stranger.

I shook my head. “I can’t do that with someone I don’t know.”

“But that’s part of the give, isn’t it? Imagine giving up all of that. You don’t need to think about who, just what they want from you. Why get up when they want you to sit? Why worry about your pleasure, when it’s his that matters? All that stress in your everyday life can be gone with a simple command.”

Slightly tart, the pinot grigio I sipped slid down my throat and calmed the sudden heat spiraling through my body at her words. What would it feel like, fading into that sort of life? Wren looked happy, and Blake adored her.

“But I don’t do well with—”

“Don’t think. Do. That easy. It’s the thoughts that leave you lost.”

I bit my lip, fascinated and more than a bit turned on. “What would I have to do?”

“I can trust you, Becca? Like, really trust you. What I’m going to tell you can’t go beyond these walls. Even if you don’t agree, this conversation never happened.”

A thrill shot through me, quickening my heart. I hadn’t felt this way in so long. Death might destroy everything, but life could bring it back.

I nodded at her. “What would I have to do?”