by Amarie Avant
“When? When was this place built and hmmm, I detect a ‘control freak’ statement coming on. Don’t get me wrong, this place is … is wow!” she says, astonished.
“Damn, I wish I could say it was the very palace Emperor Constantine built for his sister, but it’s not. After the Turks fucked shit up, Constanta was taken by Romania in 1877 subsequent to the Romanian War of Independence. This beauty was built then, so to answer your first question, it was the first and only jewel before King Carol I.”
“Do you know that I could spend every hour of every day learning something new about you, Daniel? Planes, helicopters, traveling the world.” Desire plays quite the domme, as she presses her soft body against mine. “So, what’s with this one room? Why not have the entire mansion reconstructed at the same time?”
“I had my hand in some of the changes. Much of the modifications included restoration to its original grandeur, besides the hidden kitchen and other slight tweaks throughout. But to answer your question, one room is all mine. Nobody touches it but me. If that makes me anal then I’m a fucking control freak.”
I turn the knobs behind me, and open the double doors to the bedroom. “I purchased the place a few years back. Though I’m unable to venture to Romania much, I say it will probably take another year or so for me to finish this room.”
I take Desire’s hand. “You are my most valuable possession. Watch your step.”
Her eyes sparkle as she follows me inside. There are master suites in all four locations. This one is my second favorite, the room we share being the first and thus the reason why I chose to make modifications myself.
The room is a little under 2,800 square feet and runs alongside a creek. The windows are bright.
“It’s all bare bones and crown moldings,” I tell her.
Desire picks up a hand saw that’s stationed on a cart in the middle of the room.
“That’s too big for you.”
“Humph, says the man who has called me hammy and ham hock.”
“Just those thighs, sweetheart. Just those thighs.”
“But can I help you? This is the room you’ve decided nobody has a hand in.” She licks her bottom lip. “Will you allow me to help?”
No. “Sure.”
“Okay, what do I get to do?” Desire brightens, placing the saw back.
“Take off your shirt.”
She gives a sideways glance before doing as told.
“Remove your jeans.”
“Daniel,” her voice is testy.
“Shall I place you over my knee and give that ass a good thrashing?”
“Fuck you, Daniel.” She folds her arms. “You said I can help. If I’m naked, how much of a damn help can I be? Besides, you are my dom in our bedroom only. So how the hell can I be of assistance while half naked?”
“First, I didn’t desire you half naked. I wanted you fully disrobed, laying across the window settee, pussy wide open while I worked. Now that’s all the assistance I need.”
Desire stuffs one arm and then the other back into the shirt. “You’re working on crown moldings?” She glances at the cart again, searching for the appropriate tool.
I reach past her to pick up the gouge chisel.
“Where are the rest of those?”
“This gouge chisel?” I cock an eyebrow, though it isn’t necessary for my current task.
“Don’t answer a damn question with a question.”
“This is a one-man job,” I tell her. There are more than ample tools, yet I only set them out one at a time. But she’s attempting to bogart her way in. I’ll let her in. I just love to watch the frazzled look on her face. “Look, sweetheart, I hadn’t anticipated working on the home during your first visit.”
“But this is important to you.” The longing in Desire’s eyes tells me she craves a place to belong. Damn, after the encounter with her parents and her argument with Lauren, this might be the busy work that she needs.
I hand her a sheet of sandpaper. “Oh, don’t look so down my little apprentice. You have to work your way up.”
Desire smiles at that.
Desire
Daniel told me that the last person to live here had applied wallpaper over the moldings. He was nurturing in the way he taught me the process of how he removed the paper and used a putty knife to scrap off the excess material and residue. He gave me the job of cleaning the molding with a wire brush and Brillo pad to remove the rest of the wall paper residue.
Each day he asks me if I’d rather be lounging at the beach, and I tell him how content I am working on this project with him. My cell phone has been off for all of ten days. I haven’t had any contact with the outside world and at night we either have mad, crazy sex, or I play his sub. But twenty-four-seven, Daniel satisfies me, mind, body and soul.
“How could you ever go back to doing this by yourself?” I ask him while fine-tuning one area of the molding I’m working on.
Daniel stands at the top of the ladder, which must be at least two stories high with how tall this room is, and his biceps bulge as he removes the old trim from around the moldings. “You’ve learned rather quickly. Next time I visit Alaska, on a mission trip for church, I’ll have to take you with me.”
Perched on the floor, I glance up at him. “What? You help build houses and centers? I recall Pastor Hayes mentioning the last trip to Alaska during one of his sermons last month.”
“I went on that trip, yes. Not all of them, though, work keeps me too busy. But these hands were meant for history. Flying. Building things. The edification of Desire Taylor.”
“Humph, the edification of slapping my ass.” I smile brightly and rub a hand through my hair. “Guess you can’t really pull my hair.”
“Yeah, your hair frames such an angelic, baby doll face, Des. And you love when I grab the back of your neck while spanking your ass.”
###
The days blur into weeks. We finished the molding after the first week. The next task would be polishing the marble fireplace. At that time, we split it between venturing out to the beach and completing that task. Now it's late July. The sun has coated my skin in pure caramel, not one bikini line due to the private beach behind Daniel’s palace.
In a pair of cotton shorts and a camisole, I sit on a lounger on the balcony outside of our bedroom, and the black sea stretches before me. I power my phone back on. There are missed calls and messages.
Not from Riley.
Not a single one from my mom.
Three from my dad. The first one was a few hours after Mom went postal on us. By that time, I had already gotten into my second argument with Lauren.
There are a slew of messages from Azalea. Since we talk weekly, her calls become more anxious by the second.
But Elite and Mr. Kroger take the cake and pretty much left my iPhone voicemail at full capacity. At first, there were voicemails from Lacy and Mr. Kroger, respectively. They’d taken turns calling to congratulate me. Then Mr. Kroger calls again gloating about how our business has made it on E Entertainment, trending on Twitter and more.
Then his voicemails aren't so nice.
“There are hordes of clients calling, requesting you. I need you to answer your phone, Miss Taylor.” Much of the rest of the voicemails follow the same lines. Every third word is punctuated with intensity.
I rub a hand through my hair. The roots need a perm and my bangs need clipping. I swipe right on the iPhone to delete all the messages and call my dad first.
“Princess! Where are you? Are you all right?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I reply, aware of how much turmoil I’ve caused him.
“Don't you ‘Daddy’ me. I'm worried. Azalea has called me a thousand times!”
I bite my lip. “Has Mom asked about me?”
“She's going through menopause, princess. She'll get over herself.” That pretty much settles it.
“I assume the answer is no.” My lips quiver, eyes burning, but I'm too ornery to shed a single tear. Dad and I talk
for a few moments more.
“So, you're in Constanta? Does he make you smile?” He sounds concerned.
“Of course. I'm in love.”
“I know. Your mom almost had a heart attack. She doesn’t trust Azalea, and there’s no end to what’s going on in Monique’s head about Azalea, her company, and Daniel. But I looked in Daniel's eyes. He's in love with you too. We all have a past, princess.” Dad pauses. “I made it out of Compton. I took… I took your mother with me because the two of you deserve a better life.” My poor dad is so goofy, I can hear the hesitance in his voice mentioning his past. “Darn it, you're probably the squeakiest clean person I know.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I've spoken with your mother about her behavior. I will keep at it until she gets off that high horse of hers.”
I again thank him but my dad cuts in, “Hush, princess, that’s what dads are for. I always have your best interest at heart, never forget that.”
He jots down Daniel’s cell phone number and the address to where we are. I promise to keep him updated on where we go before hanging up.
I take a few quick breathes before trying my mother’s cell phone. The call connects. It rings once. Twice. Mid-third ring the automated voicemail prompt turns on.
A sharp knife slices through the center of my heart. She purposefully ignored me!
I dial work.
“Desire, how ya doing?” Mr. Kroger grunts as if he’s leaning back in his chair. I can imagine his belly protruding, hands folded over it as he crosses his feet on the table
“I’m fine, Mr. Kroger. I’ve been a little under the weather…” which isn’t far from the truth.
“Oh, sorry to hear that. Look, we’ve got a gaggle of potential clients knocking at the doors, and every single one of ‘em is interested in you!” He sounds like he’s trying to sell me on Vaudeville with the upbeat tone of his voice.
Daniel comes out with a cup of coffee for me.
I smile my thanks. He turns around to allow my privacy as I say, “Mr. Kroger, I’ll probably be in the second week of August, it’s my birth—”
“The second week of August?” My boss’s amplified voice causes Daniel to stop and stay put. From the frown on his face, he's aware that Kroger is shouting. “Desire, what the hell are you talking about? You don’t sound sick to me! I need you here now. Like fucking yesterday!”
“But—”
“No fucking buts, Ms. Taylor. Azalea has shrugged me off one too many damn times so that ship has sailed.” He stops for a cleansing breath. Daniel mouths for me to place the call on speaker. I silently grumble while acquiescing.
“Now, I’ll have my assistant pencil you in for four pm. I have room at that time so we can meet then. Or hell, you busy now? I’ll move some things around.”
I frown. “Mr. Kroger, I’m not even in—”
“Desire,” he cuts in with a hard chuckle. “It’s been ages since I’ve asked if you like your job. Should I?”
My mouth sets into a line. I get ready to cuss his ass out, but Daniel snatches the phone from my hand. “Try it, Kroger. I fucking double dare your ass to make such an idiotic inquiry!”
“Daniel!” Mr. Kroger’s voice is dripping with shock.
“Wentworth Daniel Rutledge the third to you! As a matter of fact, Desire is done with this call and she’s done with you. Had I known you spoke to her in such a disrespectful tone, I would have stolen her from the job prior to offering her a contract.”
“But Mr. Rutledge…”
“Desire doesn’t work for you, so lie through your motherfucking teeth for these potential clients all you want. By the end of the week, she’ll have her own brand on all social media outlets. A commercial—” Daniel pauses, “Des, would you like a commercial?”
My blood pressure is rising at how quickly Daniel inserted himself into the conversation. “I…”
Daniel continues, “She’ll have her own fucking business and Elite will be back at the bottom of the fucking barrel. How about that!”
Daniel clicks the off button, and tosses the phone into my lap.
“Okay, wanna tell me where the alpha animosity came from?” My eyes widen. I'm bewildered at the entire play by play just now.
“He sounded too damn comfortable disrespecting you, Des.” Daniel paces back and forth.
“But my own company?”
“Of course. You should make every penny for your hard work, cut out the middle man, sweetheart. I’ll send an email to my team. They’ll prepare your brand—I might have been premature with saying by the end of the week, but they’ll work overtime.”
“Who is ‘they’?”
“My promotional team, Des. The folks you met when we did my commercial.”
I frown. “So, you didn’t even need me to plan an event for you?”
“Fuck yeah, I did. Elite presented an opportunity to get to know you.”
He reaches down to grab my thigh and I shove his hand away. “Yeah, whatever.”
Daniel sits next to me. “Where’s the anger coming from?”
“First of all,” I use my fingers to count, “I don’t need anyone creating my brand. I’ll be in charge of me.”
“All right, but we’re on vacation. I didn’t think you’d want to be bothered with all the aspects.”
“Secondly,” my head cocks to the side, “you just quit my job. My job. I am a grown ass woman, Daniel. How do I look having someone else resign for me?”
He offers a blank glare.
“Next time a major move is to be made that involves me, and only me, I would like to be in the damn center of it. How about that?”
“Okay, albeit no move you make involves just you, Desire. Not since you became mine.”
“Whatever, Daniel.” I push away his attempt at a kiss.
He clasps my jaw. “Don’t make me take off my belt.”
“You’re only my master in the bedroom. We’ve already shook hands on it.”
“So what?”
“We aren’t married.”
“We will be,” he assures.
“Okay when?” I’m bluffing. How can one person be so self-assured at all times? “Marry me tomorrow.”
“What about today, Des? I’ll marry you this instant.”
“No! My parents must attend, my mom,” I gulp, “will be a very vital part of the planning activities. Look, I need to call my aunt.”
Daniel’s mouth smacks against mine in a hearty kiss. He rises and leaves me to my own devices. I lick the taste of his lips from my mouth and sink back into the chair. It’s a momentary reprieve from reality. Then, I fidget with my fingers and bite on the tip of my thumb nail in contemplation of calling Aunt Azalea. She is the closest thing to me and once was the first person I sought out when turning to my parents as an adolescent would cause them to be disappointed in my decisions… damn, like now.
I make the call and it connects a second later.
“Thank God, Desire! James just called to give me an update. I was about to call Daniel.” She sounds even more distraught than my father. Though my aunt speaks too swiftly to get a word in edgewise, her tone slows. “I haven't slept in the past few weeks. Whitley stopped me from filing a missing report so many times. Are you still angry with me?”
“No, Auntie. Why would I be mad at you?”
“I just thought…” Azalea says, and I recall our heated conversation. We’ve had a few, which is a few more than I’ve ever had with my mom. But I know Azalea’s arguments are always out of concern for me.
“Although, we have our moments, I love you, Auntie.”
“Aw, I love you too! So, I’ve had to undergo an additional skin peel. You’ve had me so distraught, I swear I had a few wrinkles,” she joshes. “I’m all for nature taking its course and priding in my gray hair, but damn it, I’ll have to be referred to a botox technician for the next time you place me through this stress and worry.”
“You’re beautiful, Auntie. And when time catches up with your fla
wless skin, you will still be beautiful,” I say truthfully.
“Oh, Desire. Since you were three years old and picking flowers for me, you've always been my best flatterer. A little bitty thang, gorgeous in your own right, telling me just how beautiful I was! Humph, the moment you came into this world I became obsolete.”
I smile, aware how much Azalea will go from conceited to humble. When I was young, she’d be humble before men, but conceited before their wives...because married men were the best. Or so she’d say.
“You’re in Romania?”
“Yes.” I bite my lip.
“Constanta is one of the most beautiful places in the world. You must visit Sibiu. No other place on earth compares. And it’s not overflowing with tourists, each one ready to propose at the top of the Eiffel Tower, as if that’s original. I see why Daniel took you there, after your mother…”
“Dad told you about that too?”
“Yes. It takes a village to raise a child, Desire. Why not?”
“Why does my mom hate you so much? She hates Daniel because of you and your—never mind, that answers it all. Mom hates him for being your client, that’s reason enough.” I huff.
“My career is a touchy topic. Thus, anyone associated to me is an enemy of Monique.”
“Can you talk to her about it? Tell her that Daniel—” I feel a flush of heat prickle on my skin in the worst of ways. “Tell her that he didn’t fuck every employee on your rooster. My mom screens my calls, so tell her something. Please!”
“Desire, Monique’s hatred of me stems from further back than my agency. Do you recall that time your mother was very sick? You were about seven years old.”
I bite the nail of my thumb again.
“You had to move in with me, your father was completing residency at Kaiser Hospital, and I took you in. We were so close, Desire. You’ve always been the daughter I prayed for.”
“I don’t remem…” My eyes narrow somewhat as I reminisce on a time my mother was in the hospital. A vivid image of tubes and a breathing machine overloaded around her beautiful face flashes before my eyes.