by McCoy, Megan
“I do know. Now you have a decent dinner and then go to bed early, long day tomorrow, you know, and then Saturday we are moving your stuff here.”
“The movers are moving my things,” she said and then giggled, “well, I’ll pack my underthings. No one needs to see those but you.”
You better be packing more than your delicates he thought but said out loud, “Just mine.”
“Forever,” she agreed. “Love you, Logan, good night.”
Good night, Sir, he almost corrected but stopped himself. While sometimes a Sir slipped out, usually right before he blistered her cute butt, she was not required to call him that. Not yet. After their session tomorrow night, he might be requiring it, though, depending on what she was doing.
He had a thought, and got on the computer. When they first met, she’d had an altercation with the police she thought he didn’t know about. Did that have anything to do with this? What had happened with that and why hadn’t he thought much more about it in the last few months? She had never brought it up and he’d pushed it to the back of his mind. But now, he was curious. If she’d gone to court, it would be a matter of public record, and he pulled those up. A few minutes later, he sat back and crossed his arms. Well, well, well. So now he knew. And little miss thought he wouldn’t find out. So was ‘doctor’s appointment’ code for ‘court’ and was ‘follow up tests’ another word for ‘community service hours’? And was ‘sitting comfortably’ a thing in her past? He was certain the answer to all those was ‘yes’.
Chapter 6
“So what are you going to do?” Lucas asked as they walked toward their vehicles in the parking lot.
Logan shot him a grin. “The only thing I can do. Teach the girl a lesson she won’t ever forget. I’m not going to have this happen again in our lives and if she thinks not telling me things is the easy way out, then she is going to find out how wrong she is.”
“So there is still a rest of your lives together?”
“Of course. I’m not going to give up on her because I failed to make her understand the rules. My fault. I won’t make that mistake again. She will understand them before the night is over.”
“So what did she do?” Lucas leaned against his truck.
“She and a cop had an altercation when he came to check on one of her stores. I think she took a swing at him,” Logan shook his head. “Who knows what got into her?”
“A few Long Island Iced Teas?” Lucas guessed.
“Could be,” Logan said. “Nothing in there about alcohol testing or anything, but I’m not ruling that out.”
“But you are going to find out,” Lucas stated.
“I’m going to find out a lot,” Logan said. “But right now, I want to have a great dinner with my brother and his new girl.”
“Oh God, don’t tell her she’s my new girl, you will scare her off!” Lucas laughed as he pulled his keys from his pants.
“She doesn’t know yet?”
“Nope. She will find out in due time. Right now, I’m loving finding out what a snarky sense of humor she has, and how smart she is. I’m almost in awe.”
“Don’t be too in awe. That never works out well,” Logan warned. “You know she calls me The Sensible One, right? She messed up on a phone call, thinking I was you and said ‘oh, no, you are The Sensible One’ and then tried to cover.”
“She calls me ‘The Hot One’ for whatever reason.” Lucas smiled and unlocked his car. “Don’t ask me how I know – and don’t you wonder what she calls Ronnie?”
“Nope, not for one little second.” Logan got his keys too. “Go get your girl and I’ll go get mine and let her enjoy a last supper before The Reckoning. Wanna go dancing after?”
“Damn straight.”
“George Strait?”
“Got my dancing boots. See you in an hour at the restaurant.”
Logan drove to Ronnie’s thinking about what he’d found out. What a burden it had to be on her, not telling him. It was all public record. How did she think he wouldn’t find out, sooner rather than later? What was she doing for community service? Did it happen to have anything to do with the phone call she’d made to Thomas about the newest assistant manager he’d hired? Where had they met? Picking up garbage together? He believed in second chances, so that wouldn’t bother him, if so. Thomas would have made his own decision, knowing he didn’t work for Ronnie, but for him. What did a person do for community service? He didn’t think he knew anyone who had done any. He frowned. Yeah, he did. He was engaged to one.
Not that she’d told him.
Now, though, he was going to have a great supper with his brother, his brother’s girl and the girl he would marry. Then he was going to dance the night away, and take his girl home and find out what the hell was going on in her pretty little head. What color would it be tonight? He hadn’t seen her for two days after all, so who knew?
Looking at her as she opened the door, he hadn’t thought of green. It was green. “Your hair is green,” he said before he thought. Why were blue, pink, and neon red real hair colors but green was different? His thought process was obviously off.
“So are my earrings and my dress and wait until you see my shoes!” she gushed. “I have the cutest new shoes!”
Of course she did. She always did. “We’re going dancing after dinner. Are they dancing shoes?”
She threw him a kiss that he pretended to catch. “All my shoes are dancing shoes!”
“Feel like being an elf today? Little early for Christmas,” he said, watching her put her earrings in. She was beautiful. And her green would go well with her red butt later.
“St. Patrick's Day is around here somewhere, I think. And our wedding is six weeks from today,” she told him. “Time to start pounding down on the details. I want everything to be perfect.”
“I don’t care about a perfect wedding.” He stood up, and took two steps over to her, then pulled her close. “I just care about having a great marriage.”
“First things first,” she told him, wrinkling her nose at him.
Logan looked into her eyes and almost decided to have it out with her right now, but remembered he’d promised Lucas dinner and since Lucas was going to be helping Ronnie do all the things she should have been doing this week, like packing, he’d not upset their plans.
“Shoes,” he reminded her.
“Oh, yes! I wouldn’t forget my shoes!” she said, and went into the bathroom and came out a few minutes later with a silvery sparkly jacket and her equally as sparkly emerald green shoes. “Food, dancing, and the handsome man I love, what could be better?”
Logan thought his tongue would bleed from biting it so hard. He just had to get through the next few hours; dinner then an hour or two of dancing would take the edge off before he confronted her. And confronted she was getting. But, he was male and his stomach growled. Steak first. A dancing workout to calm himself down, then, in a few hours, she’d be in that corner, dancing in her green shoes, hands on her green hair, sporting her red bottom. It would be like Christmas. He couldn’t wait.
* * *
“Here you are,” Lucas had seated Katrina and pulled the chair out for her while Logan was talking to someone about something.
“Thank you,” Ronnie showed him her dimples. “And what have you done all day?”
“Just hanging out with Katrina here, working on some wedding things and resting up for tomorrow when I’m coming over to carry boxes for you,” Lucas said. “How about you?”
Ronnie leaned forward, wanting to tell him, but realized immediately when he arched an eyebrow the same way Logan did, that she couldn’t. No one knew she was working at the thrift shop. No one could know how good she had been today. Apparently, Shanna had sent several of her friends over to her, to help them dress for interviews. She had a knack of pulling clothes off the racks and helping women dress for success. Who knew? All she wanted was to tell Logan. She had a skill! She was good at something! Allie had talked about getting her a specia
l room in the store, just for women who needed new clothes for interviews or even the first week on jobs.
You couldn’t wear your interview outfit every day of course. But! A room! She could pull clothes from the thrift shop and make her own little dress for success shop. It was so great and so exciting. The designer bags and shoes they had no clue what to do with – she did! She was so excited about this and had no one she could talk to. No one. Here she was, bubbling with excitement and yet if she told anyone they would know about her community service. She couldn’t say a thing. No one could know about that. No one. She only had thirty-some more hours to work, she thought. Maybe she should check. Why wasn't she more obsessed with the timeline? Because work was fun? That was ridiculous. She'd find out and then she'd decide what to do.
So she ordered a drink and waited for Logan to join them and tried to focus on Katrina talking about her wedding. Her wedding should be the most important thing in the world. It should be! It was! Her wedding… where she was marrying the man of her dreams. Who wanted her to work. Who turned her over his knee and spanked her until she cried. Was he the man of her dreams? Or did she just want his money? She had money. She didn’t have to have money. She could open her own shop and dress women. She would be good at that! She could live off the profits from her stores and work at the thrift shop and dress the women there. People needed dressed. She could help.
She looked over, Lucas and Katrina were talking. Logan was off who knew where talking on his phone or something and suddenly all she wanted was to go home and think. She needed to think about this, her life, her future. She didn’t want to be here and by golly, Ronnie Fischer did not have to stay anywhere she didn’t want to be.
She looked at her drink and stood up. Lucas looked at her and she said, “Headache, going home,” and left, hitting speed dial for Uber on the way out. Her mind raced and she didn’t even stop to look around as she walked straight out the front door. She wanted this. This. All she could focus on was her new shop. Dressing women, finding them affordable clothes to wear to get a job. She might be – was – privileged but she’d learned. Other people weren’t. Kids didn’t have brand new shoes, ever, sometimes. Women couldn’t afford shoes like she could and needed decent clothes to wear to work and get a job to support their kids. Some didn’t know what it took to look like a million bucks, but she did. She could help. It would also look good when she went to the Arts Council and the other committees she might want to be on in the future. She could be the lady with the shop to help poor women! How great was that?
A hand on her should stopped her. “Ronnie. What is going on?”
Oh yeah. Logan. She probably had to tell him something, didn’t she? She just kinda felt… out of it, yet focused.
“Logan, I need to go home,” she said.
“I’m taking you.” He took her arm and she let herself be led to his car. She should cancel the Uber or her rating would go down. As soon as she got in the car. Why could she not stop thinking? She had to tell him. She had to. She’d explode if she didn’t tell someone. This – this – was what she needed to do with her life. Surely he would understand? Maybe? Ronnie squared her shoulders. If he didn’t then what? She didn’t know. Yes, she loved Logan and wanted to be Mrs. Veronica Fischer-Jones and be a lady who lunched, but, if she could change lives by dressing women... Oh! Swirling, she looked at Logan and said, “Make-up!”
“We haven’t broken up.” He looked at her as if she had two heads.
Why did she feel drunk? She hadn’t drunk anything today that she remembered. “No, I can give them make-up tips, too!” There was so much she could do.
A sharp, smack to her bottom made her jump and squeal and she look at Logan. “What?”
“I have no idea what is going on here, but we are going to your house and I am finding out,” he said, putting her in his truck. She didn’t care. Her mind still raced. Suddenly she had a purpose. A reason. Something she was good at.
“Ronnie?” She looked up and saw they were driving. Oh yeah. Going home. Wait, he didn’t have a truck. Was this Lucas’ truck? Why did she care? She didn’t.
“Ronnie?”
Oh yeah. What was wrong with her brain? All she wanted to do was think about her new career – oh wow. Her new career. She didn’t want to work, but she wanted to do this. She needed a name. Dress for Success or was that too trite? Veronica Fischer was not trite. Ronnie’s Rags? No, she wouldn’t be associated with rags. Ronnie’s Raiment? Would people know what that meant? Ronnie’s Regalia? Dressed by Ronnie? That one had a ring to it. She’d have to think on it.
Looking over, she took a deep breath. Logan. She had to tell Logan. Didn’t she? Would he understand? He loved her, he would understand.
“As soon as we get back to the house,” he said, in a tone she hadn’t really heard before. “You get into your nightgown and get into the corner until I calm down enough to deal with you.”
He was mad? What was he mad about? That they left early?
“Logan,” she started.
“Be quiet! I don’t want to hear a word out of your mouth.” He drove as she looked at him, completely confused.
Okay, if that was the way he was going to be, fine. She settled back to try and think about her excitement of just a few minutes ago. Her little room at the thrift store, well, to start. She could see an entire store, maybe a chain of stores in the future. But her excitement felt dulled by his obvious upset. What had she done? Or didn’t do? The meeting with Katrina? Sure, she hadn’t been focused on the little details of her wedding as she should be. She’d change that and go all bridezilla if he wanted her to do that. She could do that. The wedding was soon, then she could focus on her shop. Shops? Who knew?
But why was Logan mad and why wouldn’t he let her talk? This just didn’t make any sense at all to her.
“Logan,” she started, but he held his hand up, flat in a gesture she knew meant, don’t speak.
Who was he to tell her not to speak? He was not her boss and if he wasn’t careful, who knew what he might be? Out of a job working for her, that’s what. She had Thomas now, she didn’t need him. Thomas knew what he was doing. He could run her stores, and make her money while she started her new business. Couldn’t he?
Well, the last thing she wanted was to argue in the truck, and so she settled back, knowing they would be home in just a few minutes. What had he said? Nightgown and corner? She was tired of standing in the corner, and just wasn’t going to do it. She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead. He couldn’t make her do it. She didn’t want to, she was a grown woman, and she didn’t want a spanking either. Well, who would? That made no sense at all. Why did he think he had the right to spank her? Why did she let him? It wasn’t fair. She wanted to be all excited and happy, he should be happy! She’d found what she wanted to do. He was always telling her she had to do something, after all! Planning a wedding wasn’t keeping her occupied! She’d always thought she’d wanted a huge big extravaganza, her perfect day, but really, it wasn’t as much fun as she thought it would be. She had no family, had moved from all her friends who had all faded away in the past few years, because she’d been too busy to keep in touch. What was the point of a big wedding if there wasn’t anyone to be jealous of her? A little smile touched her lips, well, that sounded a little narcissistic, but well, it was the truth. That was what every bride wanted on their wedding day, to be envied and admired, after all. It was just fact.
She would be admired on her wedding day. Oh, she needed to make an appointment to get her hair and nails done. Maybe a nice bikini wax too. Why not? She deserved pampering.
Her truck door opened, before she even realized they’d stopped. Logan held out his hand and she put hers in his, so he could help her out. “Nightgown, corner,” he said, again, in that tone she didn’t care for one little bit. But fine, she’d put her nightgown on. She owned one of those, she was certain, that wasn’t sheer and see through and lacy. Yes, she did. The one she bought in case she ever had
to go to the hospital and would want covered. It was still in her drawer, but it would work.
Her brain would not shut off or even slow down. She wanted to think about her new focus. She didn’t want to think about why he was mad. She didn’t want to think about standing in the corner and she didn’t want to think about why he was so mad, because that was confusing. Was he upset about the class, again? That was getting old.
“Change. I’m going to walk around the block and when I get back, I better see you in that corner, showing off that butt I’m going to blister until I get some answers. Some truthful answers.”
Walk around the block? Why? None of this was making any sense at all to her. She whirled around to ask him, but he’d already slammed the door behind him. Fine, just let him go walk. She knew she should be nervous about her upcoming spanking, about him wanting to spank some truth out of her. Stupid class. It was the only thing she could think of that he’d be mad about. Maybe she’d just sit down tomorrow and pound it out. Who cared what kind of grade she got on it. She was a grown woman about to be married to a totally rich guy and why did she care if she got a D in a class? How would that affect her future? It wouldn’t. Why was he making her take this class anyway? Stupid contract. She should have read it. Why hadn’t she read the contract?
Hanging up her dress, she kicked off her shoes and went to the dresser to see if she could find her nightgown. There it was, all soft pink flannel with tiny little flowers over it. She would look like a grandma, but she’d be covered. That had been the goal when she bought it. She’d had her tonsils out, and the doctor told her she might have to spend the night at the hospital. She hadn’t, thank goodness, but she was not going to wear that hospital gown one minute longer than she had to wear it. Sliding the nightgown over her head, she marveled in the comfort, so much softer than her usual night clothes. She might wear this more often. A higher neckline and reaching her legs mid-calf completed the soft granny look. Shoes? She had no slippers but for her high heeled ones that simply didn’t go with this, so she pulled out a pair of neon pink knee-high socks she saved for under boots, and put them on. Brushing her hair out, she then gave herself a small spritz of perfume.