Chapter Seventeen
Daniel
I watch Ashley walk toward my office door, where she stoops down to pick up her clothing before stepping into my private bathroom. Her back to me, I admire her shapely figure. I love the way her narrow waist flairs slightly into gorgeous, well-shaped hips. Her ass is firm and tight. I could probably stick a quarter between her ass and the top of her thigh and it would stay there. Athletic, although I don’t think she’s engaged in any sports. Maybe she had an active childhood. I don’t know. Maybe—
I don’t allow my mind to wander, but force it back to the present. I feel satiated. I feel more relaxed than I have in a long time. Even my interludes with Crystal often left me feeling dissatisfied, or actually un-satiated; as if something was never quite finished, not sexually, but emotionally, or maybe even mentally.
I shake my head as I reach for the box of Kleenex in my top desk drawer and remove the condom, bundling it up inside the Kleenex, and then another, before wadding it all up and throwing it in the trash can. I tuck myself back in my pants, zip up, and adjust. I hear the water trickling in the sink in the bathroom.
I glance up at the clock on the wall. She’s been in my office less than ten minutes. No one will wonder about that. Still, I don’t want her to linger. Not because I don’t want to spend more time with her, because God knows, I do. But not here. Not in my office.
Maybe later tonight, or tomorrow—
My cell phone rings. I move to my desk and reach for my iPhone and turn it over. The light blue background of the screen distracts me from the bathroom door, behind which Ashley is probably— I glance down at the screen, scowling when I see the caller ID.
Karen. My sense of relaxation, that elusive sense of calm that enveloped me during those few blissful moments with Ashley are doused as effectively as a bucket of cold water thrown over my head. Poof. Gone. Immediate tension, annoyance, and dissatisfaction surge upward. I sigh and answer the call.
“Hello, Karen.” What will she complain about today? Probably that I didn’t show up for the cake tasting appointment yesterday or maybe because I didn’t make a final decision on the floral arrangements? I don’t have time for this. I told her—
“Hi, Daniel. What are you doing?”
For a second, I consider telling her the truth. “I’m working.”
“What are you working on?”
What the hell? For a brief second I think she might be suspicious, that her bat radar has picked up on something in my voice. Or perhaps she has a hidden camera in my office or something. I shake my head, feeling stupid. “A manuscript,” I answer. “What do you need? I’m busy.”
She makes some pouting sounds, then chuckles softly. Before Ashley, and in the early days of our faux relationship, that throaty chuckle was enticing. Sexually charged. Now it just grates on my nerves.
She gets to the point. “Fine. I know that you gave me charge over all the decisions regarding the wedding, but honestly, Daniel, I don’t feel comfortable doing all of this by myself. You are going to be part of this marriage, after all. Do you think you could work up some enthusiasm and take on a couple of the tasks yourself?”
“I don’t know anything about planning for a wedding,” I say, my gaze flicking toward the bathroom door as it opens and Ashley steps out. She’s all put together again, although her cheeks are still flushed. I gesture for her to sit in the chair in front of my desk. At least for a minute or two until some of that color leaves her cheeks. She might as well be wearing a flashing sign that says ‘I just got fucked by my boss’. I grin at her. Her cheeks blossom with color.
“It’s not like you have to plan anything, Daniel. But do you think you can squeeze enough time into your day to make some calls to a couple of country clubs in the next day or two? I’ve got the church taken care of, but I’m not sure where I want to have the reception. I’m overloaded with the florist, the baker, the wedding planner, choosing the décor—”
I sigh. “All right, I’ll try to make a couple of calls. But seriously, can’t you ask my mother to help? She knows more about this stuff than I do.”
“She’s already busy with the caterer, the menu, and working on place settings.”
I tamp down my annoyance, wondering for the hundredth time why I allowed myself to agree to this. “All right, I’ll take care of it. I have to go now.”
“I’ll see you later this evening. We’re having dinner with your mother, remember?”
“I remember, Karen. Goodbye.”
I disconnect the call and toss the phone onto my desk blotter. Ashley look at me. “My fiancée,” I explain. “Wedding planning stuff.”
“You’re engaged?”
I nod. She shifts in her chair, her back straighter and her expression blank. She has to know sooner or later, if she doesn’t already. I don’t go around talking about Karen or anybody else in my social circle, but I know how gossip moves through the grapevine, and in the publishing house.
“Congratulations,” she says. “When’s the big day?”
“Thank you,” I say softly, sitting behind my desk. “And it’s coming up.”
She doesn’t say anything more but glances down at her fingers, crossed in her lap. The color has eased out of her cheeks. I glance around my desk, grab a printed reader’s proof for a manuscript sitting on the corner, and hand it to her.
She takes it, her brows slightly furrowed.
“I called you into my office to go over a manuscript. It will look a little odd if you don’t leave my office with said manuscript, don’t you think?”
With a nod, she takes the manuscript, then looks at me. I can tell by her questioning gaze that she isn’t sure if we’re still in that Dom/sub roll. We aren’t.
“Are you all right?” I ask, indicating that our roles are over.
“I am,” she says, glancing down at the manuscript. “Well, I guess I’d better get back to my desk before anybody starts wondering…”
I nod but don’t say anything. She rises and walks to the door. I know women. I’ve spent enough of my time around them; different personalities, different attitudes, but one thing is a universal to all of them. Even my mother. It isn’t so much as a look or a facial expression as it is about their posture, even subconsciously. As if intentionally and emotionally distancing themselves from something they don’t want to accept. It’s as if a wall descends around them. While Ashley’s face doesn’t betrayed any emotion, I’ve seen something in her demeanor change.
I frown as she quietly leaves my office, shutting the door softly behind her. Surely, she understands the boundaries of our relationship, doesn’t she? Especially since she experienced my playroom. I made the boundaries clear to her, didn’t I?
If she didn’t understand them, then and now, it isn’t my fault. Still, I want to… what? What am I going to do? I’m engaged to Karen Queen, and that isn’t going to change anytime soon. Ashley and I can still see each other; that won’t change. I don’t feel guilty about that, not one iota. Karen and I don’t love one another. That too, is plainly understood. Our marriage is simply one of convenience.
Still—
My phone rings again, and I glance down at it then roll my eyes as I answered, “Hello, Mother.”
“Daniel.” Her voice sounds like it’s far away.
“Where are you?”
“On my way down to see the caterer,” she says.
Did Karen call my mother to complain, to tell her I’m not invested enough in the wedding planning? “What’s up?”
“I know you’re busy with your publishing business and everything, Daniel, but really, you could at least pretend you’re interested.”
I barely hold back a sigh. “Mom, I’ve done everything she’s asked. Yes, I missed the cake tasting appointment last night, but to be brutally honest, I don’t care what kind of cake we have. I don’t care about the frosting, or the decorations, or what kind of flowers are picked out. Why does this have to be so complicated?”
“These things are important to women,” she says, her tone voicing disapproval. “Now I certainly don’t expect you to do everything, but to be honest, I think you’re being rather rude. I’m trying to help out, but I think you need to do a few things, too.”
“She just called, by the way, which I’m sure you know, and I told her I would take care of some phone calls to find a venue for the reception. What else do you need me to do?”
“Shrimp, chicken, or sirloin?”
I space. “What?”
“For the wedding guests. Choose one. Shrimp, chicken, or sirloin?”
I blink. “Why do we have to choose one? Why can’t we offer all three? You and I have both been to enough awards and dinners. Why not offer our guests a choice?”
Nothing for several seconds. Did I lose the call? Then I hear her soft laughter.
“There are times, Daniel, when you surprise me. Thank you.”
The call disconnects. I lower the phone and stare at it a second. When is this madness going to end? Then, with a sense of frustration, I realize that it probably never will. This is my destiny? To put up or shut up? I sit back in my chair, staring at the manuscripts on my desk, wishing that I could just dive into them, but one image keeps appearing in my mind. One face. It isn’t Karen’s.