by Karen Nappa
Kate didn’t have the same problem it seemed. “We had a one-night stand. It was nice.”
Chris forcibly tried to rein in his emotions. “Nice? That’s all you can say? Really, Kate?” Chris gritted his teeth and hoped he hadn’t broken a molar. The best sex of his life and it had been ‘nice’ for her?
She lifted one shoulder to her ear but refused to look him in the eye.
Bob sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Great,” he muttered, “couples counseling on my day off. Give me a violent vet with PTSD any day.”
“There’s nothing to counsel, Bob, we’re not a couple.” Kate’s voice was lifeless, and her eyes were dull. Is she as tired as I am?
“Hush, Kate.” Bob tilted his head down while he made eye contact with her. “You’ll get your chance to speak, but for now the two of you are going to listen.”
Chris remembered being called to the principal’s office in high school when he and James had changed the timers on the garden sprinklers at school. They’d noticed their English teacher used the shortcut through the grass instead of taking the extra steps on the sidewalk. The same teacher had reported multiple students for doing the exact same thing. He and James figured it was appropriate retribution, but the principal had given them detention anyway.
“Chris, are you listening?” Bob’s question reached through his memory and pulled him back to the present.
“Yes, Bob. Sorry. You reminded me of somebody.” Chris couldn’t contain his smirk.
“As I was saying,” Bob emphasized the words with a stern gaze. “You two have been circling around each other for months, if not years. Apparently, you did something about it last week.” Bob shot a stern look at Kate as she opened her mouth and continued before she could interrupt. “Some of us have been talking about starting a pool on when you would act on the crazy attraction between you.”
Kate looked over to Bob with an open mouth.
“Come on, Kate. You’re not the only Domme/Dom couple in the world, you can work around it. If you want to.”
Chris cocked his head as he considered Bob’s words. They were correct, of course – he hadn’t been dominant that night. Hadn’t wanted to be the Top. He’d never enjoyed bottoming during his training, but he liked submitting to Kate. He needed to talk about this, but now was not the time or the place. He narrowed his eyes on the bearded figure who stood over them. Bob was a switch. Chris rubbed the back of his neck. Not only a switch but also a therapist. If someone is going to understand me it’s him.
Chapter Two
Four months had passed since the wedding and their one-night stand, and Chris was no closer to Kate than when they’d had their asses handed to them by Bob. He sat alone at the bar of Club Indigo. He had no interest in playing or even talking with a submissive. At the other end of the bar Jim sat with a glum expression on his face. Did the other Dom have woman-troubles, too? Bob watched him from behind the bar, his usual spot this time of night, and he walked over to Chris. “What can I get you?”
“Nothing to drink. Can I ask you a question?” Chris couldn’t shake the tense feeling. Would Bob agree to help him?
“Sure thing, what’s up?” Bob leaned forward and braced an elbow on the bar top.
Chris opened his mouth, closed it again, and drew random patterns in the wetness his beer had left on the countertop.
“Do you want to make an appointment?” Bob pressed his lips in a fine line and looked around the bar for possible eavesdroppers. “There’s no one here.”
Chris rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess.” He shifted his weight. “I …,” he sighed and looked Bob straight in the eyes. “Can you tell me about switching?”
“So that’s what this is about." Bob straightened. “It’s taken you long enough," he teased and narrowed his eyes. "It’s a very broad question and I could go on for hours. Care to be more specific?”
Chris closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. “Okay, it’s like this. I never considered bottoming myself, not when I was training or any other time. I was always the Top and expected to stay that way. But my experience with Kate was spectacular. I submitted to her completely, and I didn’t think twice about it.” Chris finished, but if Bob had an opinion, he didn’t voice it. How to broach the subject? What to say? He squinted at Bob but the guy had on his poker face – or was it his therapist face? Chris bit the bullet. “How do you decide if you’re going to top or bottom?”
Bob was silent for so long Chris wasn’t sure he was going to answer. “I’m not exactly sure. I don’t think it’s something I decide because that would mean it’s a conscious thing. It’s not. For me submitting or dominating depends on the partner I’m with. It also has to do with my mood and how my day went.”
“So, the person you’re with makes the most difference?” Chris inquired.
Bob didn’t say a word but inclined his head.
“Does it seem strange to you that I want to submit to Kate?”
“Not at all! She’s a hell of a woman and a force of nature as a Domme. I’ve enjoyed playing with her on numerous occasions.”
Bob’s rapid reply instigated a burning sensation in his chest. His jealousy must have shown on his face because Bob held his hands in front of him in a placating gesture.
“I’m not involved with the woman, and I won’t ever be.”
He let out the breath he’d been holding and the burning subsided. “I know, it’s just…”
“You’re confused. Not about your feelings for Kate, which are obvious to everyone in this club, but about being a switch.”
“I am? Until Kate, I’ve always been dominant.”
“Every person is different. I’d say you’re about eighty percent dominant and twenty percent submissive. Don’t you realize all the times you’ve played with James and a sub, you’ve dominated the woman, but submitted to James?”
“What?” Chris exclaimed. His skin tingled and his attention narrowed until it seemed like only he and Bob remained in the room.
“Remember the last time the two of you tag teamed Laura? Who was leading the scene?”
“James, of course.” He tried to catch up with Bob’s line of questions.
“Of course?”
“Yes, he’s her Dom after all.” Chris’ mind raced, looking for answers that weren’t there.
“True, but think about it.” Without another glance, Bob resumed his bartending. Chris chewed on his words – eighty percent dominant but also submissive. Bob took his lukewarm beer and poured it down the drain. He wiped the countertop and placed a fresh bottle in front of Chris. Dominant with others, but submissive to Kate and James? It was a lot to wrap his head around.
Chris slapped his hand on the bar. “You might be right. I don’t always dominate, and I have no problem giving control to somebody I trust.”
Bob seemed pleased by his insight. “Does this answer your questions for now?”
“Yes, it does. Thanks, man.” Chris downed half his beer in one swallow and relaxed for the first time that night.
“Why don’t you grab one of the subs and do some topping?” Bob cocked his head to where Ruby and Sandra stood.
Chris shook his head. “Not in the right frame of mind.”
Bob nodded and didn’t move for several beats. “Are you up to manning the bar for a bit? Peter is due to relieve me at ten.” Bob looked at his wristwatch. “That’s only fifteen minutes.” Bob’s gaze went to Ruby again.
Chris followed his line of sight and chuckled. Both Chris and Bob had played with Ruby, and she was a delightful submissive. Easy to communicate with and her responses were open. She was also a handful and more trouble than Chris liked.
Bob grinned in return and cocked his head.
“Sure thing.” Still chuckling, Chris rose to his feet and headed behind the bar. The switch apparently had his Top-hat on tonight.
“What now, Tante Wilma?” Yvonne van Dijk tucked a strand of hair back into her ponytail. She and her Aunt Wilma spoke Dutch s
ince the only customer in the shop was out of earshot. She had only been in Kansas City for three weeks and had barely left her uncle and aunt’s house. Her Uncle Cameron was recovering from a bad case of pneumonia following open-heart surgery, and Yvonne had come from the Netherlands to help for a few months. Her aunt’s husband didn’t like strangers in the house and was much more comfortable with her help.
Tante Wilma was a skilled designer, and although her husband had retired, she still enjoyed running her business. The shop served several purposes. It gave Wilma an outlet for her love of clothing and design. She was incredibly talented, especially when it came to remaking older out-of-style clothing into contemporary wonders. Another purpose was to give Wilma an opportunity to dispense advice to all who came in. Her customers were like the children she’d never had, and they all seemed to understand Wilma’s need to help. Lastly, it helped Wilma keep her fingers on the pulse of the area. More than once, it had provided her with information on charitable opportunities the McGruders had become significant sponsors of.
Wilma had started her in the back, unpacking new fabrics, and dresses but since lunchtime she helped in the main space with the slow but steady stream of customers. Although customers – they seemed more personal friends of her aunt. Today seemed a general clothing and advice day. Right now, Wilma fitted a partially finished dress onto a slim, forty-something woman she seemed to know well.
“I think this dress will be perfect for you. Not too frilly, more elegant. You’ll look like Audrey Hepburn. You know she was Dutch, don’t you?”
“No, I didn’t know that.” The customer turned in front of the floor to ceiling mirror, and Yvonne noticed how well the dress fit and suited the woman. “I learn something every time I come in here. I don’t think even one of your dresses will make me look like Hepburn, though. She was one of a kind.”
“True, but you have that same something about you she did, don’t you think so, Yvonne?” It wasn’t the first time Wilma had tried to include Yvonne in the conversation. Although Yvonne liked the interactions, she was self-conscious about her accent. Besides, she didn’t know half as much about clothes as her aunt did.
“I don’t really know, Tante Wilma. I don’t think I ever saw her movies, except for My Fair Lady, and this doesn’t look anything like her clothes in that.”
“Spoken like a diplomat. I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” The other woman smiled her way. “I’m Suzie Carmichael. Your aunt and uncle go to the same church as my family does. We’ve missed them both since his surgery. I’m so glad he’s doing better. You were the answer to many prayers when you arrived to help.”
“I… I don’t know what to say. I’m not a church-goer. But thank you, I guess.” Taken aback and unsure of the appropriate response, Yvonne fixed her gaze on her shoes and tried not to fidget.
“That’s all right, dear. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Suzie patted Yvonne’s arm.
“Suzie, when I tell you to stand still, you will please do so,” Wilma interrupted.
“Yes, Wilma. I’m sorry.” Before Suzie could properly resume her position, the muffled sounds of Imagine Dragons’ Whatever it Takes started coming from her purse. Suzie groaned. “I’m sorry, but I have to get that. It’s my partner, and she wouldn’t be calling on a Saturday afternoon if there weren’t a problem.”
Wilma sighed. “If you must, you must.”
Suzie got to the phone before it rolled into voicemail. “What’s up, Sonja? Everything was fine when we left each other two hours ago.”
She paused, and Yvonne could hear bits of the other woman’s voice sounding anxious as she explained the problem.
“What do you mean, we need another server? Wasn’t Krystal going to cover the party?” Suzie massaged her temple while she listened to the other side. “Damn. And you’ve called everyone else?” She started pacing. “Of course you have, I’m sorry.” Another pause from Suzie. “I know, I know. We’ll find someone. Relax. Take a deep breath. I’ll see who I can think of. We’ve got till Friday. We’ll find someone.”
She ended the call and sighed. “I’m sorry, Wilma. Sonja just found out that one of our servers has broken her wrist, and apparently none of the others are available. She was wondering if my kids were mature enough to help out yet. As if. We’ll find someone. I know a caterer who can probably loan me some help. I bailed her out last month when she over-booked herself.”
“What about my Yvonne, here?” Wilma patted Yvonne’s hand and Yvonne’s heartbeat sped up. “She’s been trapped in the house since she got here. It would be good for her to get out, and it would give her a chance to meet people. I don’t need her in the evening.” She turned her attention to Yvonne. “What do you say? You waited tables when you were younger, didn’t you?”
“Ja, Tante Wilma. I did. B-but Suzie already knows who she’ll ask. She doesn’t need a stranger.” She turned to Suzie. “I’m sorry, but my aunt likes to make everyone’s plans for them.”
“No, you’d be perfect, Yvonne. You’ve had experience, you say?” Suzie squinted her eyes.
“It was years ago. I’ve mostly been a shop assistant, but I think I can manage to serve tables again,” Yvonne cleared her throat. “What kind of affair is it?”
“Normally we’re only open for breakfast and lunch, but Friday night we’re catering a party. It’s not that fancy and the service will be easy. You just have to pass hors d’oeuvres and drinks around and pick up the empties. We’ll pay you, of course. Let me get you a card. Here is the name and address of the café. Why don’t you drop by one day this week around 2:00 pm and we can discuss what you’d be doing?”
Before she knew it, Yvonne found she had agreed to help at a party for a café full of strangers. Maybe her time in the States would have a little more excitement than she’d expected.
The next afternoon at a quarter to two, Yvonne entered the café holding the card Suzie had given her. A confident-looking dark-skinned woman in a beautiful red dress greeted her. “You’re just in time for lunch. Table for one?”
Yvonne shook her head. “Umm, no, I’m sorry, but I’m looking for Suzie. It’s about the job.”
The woman squinted. “I didn’t know Suzie had planned a job interview.”
Yvonne shook her head again. “It’s not really a job. I’m supposed to…”
“Oh, good, there you are, Yvonne!” Suzie’s voice had them both turning her way. “I see you’ve already met my partner, Sonja.”
Yvonne started to laugh. “Well, not exactly. I was trying to explain why I came in.” She held out her hand to the woman, who must be Sonja. “I’m Yvonne Van Dijk, Wilma McGruder’s niece.”
Sonja took her hand and opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Oh, Yvonne!” she exclaimed as the puzzle pieces clicked. “You’re going to help us out on Friday. Good to meet you.”
Suzie ushered Yvonne to a small office at the back of the café. Sonja would join them after the lunch crowd had cleared out, and the servers could deal with the few die-hards.
Suzie explained how she and her husband Connor had bought out Sonja’s former partner in The Savory Table. “I love to bake and try new recipes, and Sonja wanted to expand and add breakfast to the menu. When I met Sonja at the mun …” Suzie broke off and amended, “when I met Sonja, I was working in a lab developing new products for a company that makes frozen food. Sonja gave me a chance to become a partner. So, with the added sweets, The Savory Table isn’t a great name, and my Connor came up with the new name, The Sweet and Savory Table.”
Yvonne smiled at Suzie’s excited explanation. It was apparent to her Suzie loved her job. “And what is this party?”
Suzie slapped her forehead. “Here I go prattling on. Friday night, we’re celebrating the new name with friends, family, and regular customers. As I told you yesterday, one of our servers injured herself. Will you help us out?”
Yvonne had taken an immediate liking to Suzie and found her enthusiasm contagious. “Sure I will, but wha
t does Sonja think? You don’t know me.”
“Sonja thinks you’re a gift from heaven.” Yvonne jumped at the voice coming from behind her. She turned in her chair with her hand to her chest.
“That was a very sadistic thing to do,” Suzie reprimanded her partner.
“Nah, I leave that to Connor.”
Yvonne turned back to Suzie, who had turned bright red, and cocked her head. Do Suzie and I have something in common? She studied the woman carefully, as if she could see on her face if Suzie might be a masochist like herself. Even so, it would be strange for Sonja to know such an intimate detail about her business partner. Yvonne dismissed the idea – Girl, your imagination is running away with you.
On Friday night, the café buzzed with people, and Yvonne was light-headed and slightly nauseated. She wore an apron with The Sweet and Savory Table in bold letters over black pants and blouse and had been going non-stop since she’d arrived. Yvonne hadn’t seen this many people in weeks, and she and the other servers were run off their feet. She’d always loved serving people, and as wait staff that’s what she did, but this crowd was too big to enjoy. Yvonne preferred groups where she could make connections with people. She placed the tray with empty glasses on the kitchen counter and wiped her brow.
“This is crazy,” Yvonne sighed.
Mrs. Hadassah Green, the chef, chuckled. “I bet Sonja and Suzie never expected this crowd.” She slid a big tray with hors d'oeuvres in front of Yvonne and turned to stir the scrumptious smelling sauce on the stove. “Luckily, we have plenty of food.”
Yvonne had to laugh. They had gone all out, and from what Yvonne had tasted it was delicious, too.
Roger bumped his hip playfully against her. The electrical and computer engineering student at UMKC was also a temporary hire for the party, and Yvonne enjoyed his sense of humor, but he drove Mrs. Green crazy with his antics.
“Stop playing around, kid,” the chef warned him and shoved not one but two trays his way. Yvonne scooped up the one tray in front of her, caught the playful scowl on Roger’s face, and turned back to the main room.