by Gina Kincade
“Yes I did.”
“Do tell. What did you get may I ask?”
Maggie smirked a wry but playful grin.
“No you may not.”
She couldn’t tell if he hummed or growled before he replied. It was too low.
“Coy looks good on you Maggie. You wear it well. So does the blush, which only makes me more curious as to what you chose.”
“I daresay I seldom have the opportunity to make others curious Thorne, do indulge me to savor the moment won’t you?”
Maggie swore there was a low hum or growl again before he spoke.
“As you wish.”
His smile was bright and wide. A moment longer and she would have spilled, but he broke the silence before her will snapped.
“I have some business with our friend Ava here, but perhaps you will allow me to treat you for dinner after I’m done?”
Ava. Crap! Maggie had completely forgotten Ava was in the room. Glancing between them, Thorne watching her for her answer and Ava being less than inconspicuous nodding for her to accept, she vacillated and stuttered. “I-I-I...”
“If you have no plans, it would be my pleasure. I’ll be a bit, so you have time. Is mandarin okay?”
Maggie couldn’t think of a single reason to decline. She really wasn't sure she wanted to decline either. She could not however get ‘yes’ past her lips.
“I...sure.”
Ava looked more relieved than Maggie felt once she finally acquiesced. Maggie watched as Ava deftly shifted the slip for the leather suit to the bottom of the pages and closed the folder with her name on it as they finished. Thorne spoke next.
“I’ll get your address from Ava when she and I are done then if that’s okay with you. I’ll see you in a bit. Completely casual.”
Her mind was a tilt-a-whirl on full throttle but she managed to eek out ‘okay’ without her voice cracking.
“Don’t forget your package” Ava called as she left.
“Oh right. Thanks.”
MAGGIE WHIPPED INTO her parking space and took the stairs by twos and threes. Ho-ly crap on a cracker, hurry Mags hurry. She wasn’t expecting him to come up, but she hadn’t expected the invitation either. She threw the few dishes from the sink into the dishwasher rack, wiped the counter and straightened the rest of the main room.
She threw the bag with her wrapped corset onto the wardrobe shelf and put away the bulk of her remaining cash keeping out an odd fifty dollars. He’d said his treat, but she never went out unable to pay her way just in case. Even though she had showered before, she ran through again for good measure. Not sure if he was going to change or not, she put on a pair of tan slacks and a light blue sweater set. It was June, but it was also Chicago.
She put her hair up in a low ponytail, even knowing one good blast from the city’s namesake and the pieces at the front would be loose. She opted for a pair of tan slides and left the make-up and jewelry for another time.
One last walk through had her grabbing the book and video from the living area and transferring them to the wardrobe drawer where the massager was stored. She had no desire to have him see her research project. That was all she had time for.
The buzzer sounded as she closed the wardrobe doors, he had come up. Just in case, she checked the peep hole, it was him. She debated grabbing her bag and walking out but decided it would be rude. She took a breath, put on a smile and opened the door.
“Looks like you found me,” she said with more enthusiasm than she had managed to work up. “Come on in.”
As he walked in he set a bag on the island counter. Maggie didn’t miss the moment confused.
“You brought dinner?”
Thorne smiled. “Oh no, no. We’re going out.” He retrieved the bag almost as he set it down and handed it to her instead. “Happy Birthday.”
Maggie was shocked. More than shocked, she was embarrassed.
“Thorne I couldn’t possibly... Dinner is more than gracious enough. I really can’t accept this.”
“If you don’t like it or don’t approve, then return it. Selfishly, the dinner company is for me anyway, so a Happy Birthday gift is due.”
He handed the bag to her again. He didn’t speak until she accepted it then grinned and said nothing.
Maggie moved to the sectional and sat down. Thorne stood behind the other arm of the unit and waited. She knew by the wrapping where it was from. She hesitated opening it, looking up at him unsure.
“Go on. I promise it doesn’t bite. I might, but it won’t.” he added teasingly.
She opened the outer and inner wrapping. She knew before she removed it what it was by the bright shock of pink fabric.
“I can’t possibly accept this.”
“Again, return it if you wish. It is a gift. One I daresay was a guess, based on Ava’s desk as you left. If I have guessed wrong, return it.”
Maggie sighed and looked back at it in her hands, debating what to do. Thorne was quiet. As she looked up she knew two things and they were the same. One, what she had not thought to put away, and two what had his attention and silent contemplation.
On the small wall shelf above the television was the red cane and the Cat. Maggie didn’t make a sound as the math came together. She looked back down at the corset and let out a long silent groan. Greeeeat.
She spoke before looking up this time giving him a chance to change his gaze.
“Thank you.”
He went from looking out the slider to looking at her.
“You’re welcome.”
After a pause he continued. “You weren’t joking about not having space for that table.”
Maggie laughed and relaxed a little.
“No, I wasn’t. It’s a small space, but it’s just me. I don’t need a lot of space.”
“Still, you’ve used it well and made it interesting. I doubt sincerely the red leather wall was here when you moved in. It pops.”
Maggie loved that wall. It had turned out so well. With the black spackled café set in front of it, the room jumped to life with color and contrast. She was pleased he noticed and approved.
“Since we have previously determined that we both have a good eye, I will take your assessment as a great compliment.”
“It was intended as one. I really like the way that looks. I may have to steal your idea Maggie.”
“It’s all yours to steal.”
“Excellent!”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly six-thirty. The crowd is out. You still want to go for it, or we can order in, which may be faster, what do you prefer?”
As with when they met, in spite of the extremely personal gift, she did not feel threat or aggression from him. His face as he had noticed the shelf had been different, but that was gone. She had not attempted going out to sit down anywhere since Bubba Gump’s the day she had moved. The crowd ‘being out’ was a reference she lacked definition for.
She didn’t know exactly what role he played in the game, though she had a notion. She was confident however that ‘serial killer’ or rapist weren’t in the mix. Knowing Ava, and from their first meeting conversation about him, she was going to trust she was safe for dinner, regardless of the location and let him choose.
“Seller’s prerogative.”
He laughed openly.
“Well that’s an interesting way of putting it. Let’s just order. It can be delivered or we can carry out if you’d rather go to my place.”
Maggie wasn’t sure she wanted to be in his element just yet.
“Delivery is fine, but I’m taking my shoes off then.”
He laughed again. “Your house, your rules. Who do you like?”
“Meaning?” she called from the bedroom as she stashed her shoes.
“Carryout? Delivery...who around here do you like?”
“Ohhh.” She emerged on a long tone. “No idea. Other than the Panera around the block and down, I seldom eat out or get carryout or delivery.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding. Wait, why do you say it like that? I might have gotten a pizza once maybe.”
“Wow. Do you know how unusual that is in this city to not eat out?”
“Never really thought about it.”
She grabbed a phone book from the drawer and tossed it to him.
“Do your thing city boy.”
They both laughed out loud then.
Cantonese something or other arrived forty minutes or so later. The menu became the first of its kind in the drawer with the phone book and spurned a new line of questions about survival eating in the urban jungle. He commented repeatedly about how she was a rare bird. They had covered domestic responsibilities while they had waited. He had a dog and a housekeeper. She had herself. She couldn’t tell from one minute to the next what he thought.
He had walked through the entire flat, poking his head into the bedroom on a trip to the washroom. He remarked again at the size but had followed up with being impressed at how she was using it and the seemingly impossible way the whole thing was coordinated. He had never seen a color scheme through and entire residence before which led to a conversation about some he knew where everything changed room by room and nothing went together at all.
When the food arrived, as the dishes and glasses came out, he laughed loudly.
“Dishes too? Does everything go together? I have never seen this before.”
Maggie thought for a few moments on a bite of something spicy.
“As I think about it, I actually think everything might go together.”
He looked aghast. Just then, she snapped her fingers.
“No...wait. My hairdryer is blue.”
“I don’t think I believe you.”
She retrieved the blow-dryer from beneath the vanity and brought if for him to see with a wide grin. He shook his head laughing as she set it on the island and returned to the table, sounding incredulous when he asked, “So, your kryptonite is a blow dryer?”
She laughed and shook her head back at him. “No, I just haven’t had to replace it yet.”
He groaned. “Let me guess, red or black?”
She could only shrug, who knew, it was a hair dryer.
“I guess we’ll find out when it happens. I have no need to toss one that works because of its color.”
He spluttered a mouthful laughing. Without thinking, Maggie grabbed a napkin and went to wipe his chin. He grabbed her hand. The charge at the contact made her catch her breath. He let go.
“I’ll get that.”
He eyed her as he wiped his chin. More than curiosity crossed his face, but he recovered quickly to neutral.
“You are quite the conundrum Maggie.”
“How so?”
“You are coy and charming, entertaining, and even shy at times, but you like your world ordered just so. Everything has a place and you like it controlled.”
“I hardly think...”
He held up his hand to stop her so he could finish.
“It was a mere hour between when you left Ava and I at the store and my arrival here, not nearly enough time to clean a space that wasn’t and shower, and be ready to go out after getting through five o’clock traffic to get home first. I do not mean my comments to be critical or an insult. I’m fascinated. You remind me...of me.”
Maggie was out of her depth. She had dated, boys. Thorne was no boy. He was articulate and aware, and now fascinated by her. She had no idea how to respond. Sensing her flailing, he continued.
“You are young and yet you see with a worldly eye. You stammered at my gift, yet you display pieces with far more extensive implications. We met as you inspected my table, but you hedged to tell me what you yourself had bought.”
Maggie launched for the opening to change the direction of the conversation. “So you did buy it!”
Thorne didn’t miss the tactic, acquiescing gracefully, if only for a moment before putting her back under his microscope.
“Yes. I bought it. I was there today to make arrangements for it to be delivered now that my modifications have been completed. I’d love to see you on it one day.”
Maggie spluttered this time without a drop or morsel in her mouth.
“Yes, I said that.” He added.
She did not recover as quickly or as gracefully as he had and her mask slipped. “Why would you...”
He cut her short with a long “Ahhhh” of realization. “There it is.”
Maggie felt like she was swimming in waves without floaties.
“There what is?”
Thorne held up a hand of supplication. “My understanding.”
“Which means what?”
“Oh my dear, sweet conundrum... I understand now what I did not before.”
She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear this but couldn’t help herself. “And?”
“And...you are exquisite. You were not born to this lifestyle nor ushered in by someone who wanted to train you. Nor have you gotten to a point where another has taken over with their own agenda in mind. You are on a quest to find it aren’t you? Where you fit, who you are, what you are. You are not a rough canvas as your boundaries and edges are clearly defined, but the image is not rendered. You know what you like, but you don’t necessarily understand all the pieces or the players yet. You follow your instincts, which are quite good, but you err on the side of caution unless you’ve let your guard down as you have tonight. I am newly amazed, fascinated and now also, honored.”
Maggie was lost. She had followed his monologue analogies and assessment until he said he was honored.
“Am I so easily read then?”
Thorne shook his head.
“Oh no my dear, quite the contrary. You are not remotely easily read, which is why I did not fathom it sooner. I would say have you figured it out yet, but I think from what I do know of you the better question, the more appropriate one to ask, is have you decided what your part will be?”
Maggie deflated and her shoulders sank. He read it all so clearly and was right on every count.
“I am no closer than when I began. Is anyone ever truly certain?”
Thorne moved around the table, took her hand to get her to rise and led her to the sectional to sit. Dinner was done unless they were counting her moving pieces around on her plate and he wasn’t. He cleared everything to the kitchen counter before sitting next to her on the sectional facing her.
“Yes Maggie, we are. You will also. I daresay you will not feel any level of comfort until you do. I will state also, clearly and for the record, that if you decide on sub, I am staking my claim right here and now.”
Maggie’s eyes flew wide. “You...”
“I am staking my claim. I said it just as I said I’d love to see you on my table. I meant them both.”
“Thank you?” Maggie wasn’t swimming, she was drowning.
Thorne let out a deep hard laugh.
“Yes Maggie, you would thank me. The proper reply right now is to acknowledge my claim.”
Maggie hedged. “But I’m not a sub.”
He bit back a smug smile. “Are you certain of that?”
Maggie paused to think picking at a piece of lint on the cushion. She didn’t look up when she spoke.
“I’m not certain of anything.”
He nodded gentling his voice.
“Then my dear, you should acknowledge the claim, add the caveat if you wish for ‘if’ you would decide on sub or perhaps even switch. I will hold you to it either way.”
Maggie fidgeted. She had no frame of reference for this conversation. Her hesitation didn’t faze him at all. He waited quietly while she processed.
“And if neither is the decision?”
“Then the claim really means nothing doesn’t it?”
He said it so calmly and matter-of-fact she couldn’t decipher it.
“Let me put this another way. If you want to try the sub lifestyle, I want to be your Dom. I don’t want to un-teach you someone else’s instructions. You are like a new see
dling right now. I can train you to grow one way, someone else another. What I am asking you to consent and affirm, is that in that scenario, you choose me first.
There are roles, rules and agreements between players, but each sets them when they begin. I would rather begin than have to start backwards from someone else’s middle. Do you understand?”
Maggie was fighting not to put up walls. She was failing. It was the first open, honest conversation she was having beside the Q & A with Ava and she was scared.
“But what if...”
Thorne put his hand over her mouth.
“Hear me clearly Margaret. I’m not asking you to decide right this second for forever. I am saying, when YOU decide, I want you to remember this conversation. If you choose to commit yourself to a relationship as a sub, I want the job opposite you as the Dominant. Do you understand?”
It was easily the strangest conversation she could remember ever having and she’d had some doosies. With the ‘when’ part clear and that it was her decision, it was easier to reply.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good.”
His smile was not predatory or territorial as she had thought she’d see. Once again, he was just Thorne, the guy who liked the woodwork on the same piece of furniture.
“And I will acknowledge your claim IF.”
The growl was back before he got out his one word reply with a nod.
“Understood.”
‘Within you...’
His sport coat had been over the arm of the desk chair since they decided to stay in. Thorne rolled up his sleeves and moved to the kitchen to put things away leaving Maggie to wrestle her thoughts. Not much had been said after she acknowledged his claim. She had been re-running the conversation through her mind and he had watched her process without interfering.
Before she finished her replay of the words and her attempts at catching all of the nuances, he was done and back on the sectional. Dinner had been put away and the dishwasher hummed softly the start of its cycle. Maggie was instantly embarrassed at the realization.
“Oh Thorne, I’m so sorry. I should have done that.”
He hushed her with a wave.
“Birthday dinner remember?”
Maggie glared.