“What the hell did you do?”

I blinked. “Have we progressed past civilized greetings now, Jean?”

Her voice didn’t soften any. “When you do exactly the opposite of what I ask you to do, yes, I move past being civilized.”

I was thoroughly confused, but I took a moment to watch the town car disappear around the corner before turning away from the window.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I picked up the wine glasses and carried them to the sink while I waited for an explanation.

“You have no idea why I got a call from your assistant slash model telling me that you’ll need a new assistant, and that she doesn’t plan to sign the release papers for the photos you’ve already taken?”

I frowned. “What?”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

Her words ran through my brain again, but I didn’t understand them anymore this time than I had the first time.

“I’m serious, Jean. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I’d intended to clear the table while I was on the phone, but now all I could think was that something had gone terribly wrong.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” I suggested.

Jean let out a huff of air. “Sine McNiven. The assistant you didn’t want. The one I told you to behave yourself with. The one you decided to turn into a half-naked model.”

“I know who she is,” I snapped.

“Good,” Jean snapped right back, “because I was starting to wonder if you’d hit your head or been on drugs or something.”

A little flare of panic went off. Jean had always been tough, and she’d never put up with any shit from me, but I’d never heard her like this before. She was genuinely pissed at me.

“What happened to Sine?” I found my fingers tightening on my phone.

“She called me about twenty minutes ago and said that she wouldn’t be able to work for you anymore, that she was sorry, but you would need to find a new assistant. When I asked her why, she said that she realized it’s not a good fit.”

Not a good fit? What the hell did that mean?

“Then she said that she had second thoughts about posing for you, that her religious mother would have a heart attack if she ever found out about it.”

“And you just let her hang up after that?”

Silence.

I backpedaled. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”

“Yes, it was.”

“This is all just catching me off-guard,” I admitted. “I wasn’t in the studio today, and she called in sick yesterday.”

“Where were you today?”

“My parents came to the city to surprise me.” I ran my hand through my hair. Was it possible that less than fifteen minutes ago, I’d seen them off? It seemed like a lifetime had passed. “I put a note on the studio door. I figured that Sine would appreciate another day off since she wasn’t feeling well.”

“So, you didn’t do anything to piss her off?”

“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.