Fiona zipped them into the city. From the backseat, Shelby closed her eyes a couple of times against the terror that came from seeing the risks her friend took. “Next time I’ll drive.”
“You could have picked us up.”
“I know.” She held up her hand. “If I’d answered my phone. Lesson learned.”
Fiona met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Good girl.”
The three laughed at the intentional BDSM purr in Fiona’s voice.
“We missed you at the Quarter the other night,” Hannah said, turning in her seat.
She’d missed being there also. All night, she’d wondered what her friends were doing. Having dinner. Moving toward various equipment. And that thought had sent her reeling, remembering Trevor taking her upstairs to a private room and all the delicious things he’d introduced her to. “I wasn’t feeling well.” She shouldn’t pursue this line of conversation any further. Even though it wasn’t smart, she couldn’t stop herself. “How was it?”
“Meaning? Was Trevor there?”
Shelby’s pulse galloped.
Fiona braved the silence. “He was.”
“He didn’t scene.” Hanna turned again to look at Shelby. “He spent the evening in the bar, not drinking. From what I saw, a couple of women approached him, but he turned them down.”
She dug her fingernails into her palms. He had every right to play with as many women as he wanted, yet she was ridiculously happy that he hadn’t.
“David joined him for a bit, and he says they talked about plans for the law offices.”
So that was moving forward. The made her smile a little. At least something good had happened as a result of the wild, ridiculous bet.
“Mason also talked with Trevor, but he refused to tell me about their discussion. I’m positive he’s doing it just to annoy me.”
Shelby shook her head. “Surely not.”
“Anyway, he left early.”
Had he asked about her? Was he curious at all?
She should shove aside those questions, but the loss of him from her life left a hole in her heart so big that she was sure the world could see it.
“Are you ready to talk about it?” Fiona asked after she whipped around another car so fast that her vehicle rocked.
Maybe that would help. Since her friends were in relationships with BDSM dynamics, they would no doubt understand some of the things she experienced with Trevor—physically, and maybe emotionally as well. If nothing else, they’d listen without judgement. Keeping her emotions to herself wasn’t helping her get better. “Over drinks?” That would buy her time to think about what she wanted to say. And after being Fiona’s passenger, there was no doubt Shelby would need fortification.
For the rest of the drive, Hannah chatted about the reality show she and Mason were filming and plans for their upcoming wedding.
Fiona, however, despite being so bossy with Shelby, said very little about her own life.
When they pulled up in front of the Maison Sterling, adrenaline poured through her. Everything about the building, from the elegant green awning to its liveried doorman who doffed his top hat, reminded her of Trevor.
Inside, her loneliness became worse. Entering with him and being zipped up to his room, then later the next day walking through the lobby wearing his collar.
“Are you okay?” Hannah asked as they walked toward the bar, their heels loud on the polished marble floor.
“You’re pale.” Fiona’s accusation seemed to echo of the historic walls. “Stop that. You’re ruining my makeup!”
Fiona’s ridiculousness made her laugh.
“That’s better.”
They found a table in the old-world bar, away from other patrons. The lights were dimmed, and a candle flickered on their table. Light jazz spilled from unseen speakers, contributing to a luxurious ambiance.
She sank into a soft leather chair, then picked up the happy hour menu. Not that she had any doubt what she was having.
Moments later, the server arrived with a crystal bowl filled with premium nuts. This place was among New Orleans’ most expensive, but there was a reason for that. Not a single detail was ever overlooked.
“Are you ready to order, or do you need a few minutes?”
Since she knew the conversation ahead might be difficult, Shelby went straight for the most potent thing on the menu. “Cat Five.” The hotel’s renowned, lethal hurricane, was made from the sweetest juices and rum from Barbados.
“Floater on top?”
She frantically shook her head. There was enough alcohol in the drink without adding an extra shot.
“Margarita. Frozen. Extra salt on the rim,” Fiona said, fishing a cashew from the crystal bowl.
“Same,” Hannah agreed. “But light salt.”
They made small talk until the beverages arrived. After the first sips, they all sat back in the chairs. Hannah and Fiona faced Shelby, saying nothing, just waiting. Beneath their scrutiny, she squirmed and leaned forward to play with her colorful paper straw.
“Okay. I’ll start.” It wasn’t a surprise that Fiona took charge. “When we came out to the lake, you were wearing Trevor’s collar. And you seemed happy.”
“I was.”
“And…” She sighed. “Don’t make me drag it out of you.”
“It was never supposed to be permanent.” Every day, part of her missed its weight and reassurance. “I told you that.”
“I’ve been to Madame Giselle’s shop. All of her items are expensive. That was a lot of money for a one-week fling.”
“I gave it back.”
“What went wrong?” Hannah asked.
“Honestly? Nothing.” This time she took a much longer drink. “I mean… God.” She gave herself a minute to think. “We agreed to spend a week together. And I was really starting to fall for him.”
“It seemed mutual,” Fiona said. “You two worked as a couple on the boat. Andrew and I both noticed Trevor wanted to throw us overboard so he could have you to himself for a while.”
“That obvious, huh?” Shelby smiled, and that relieved a million of her burdens.
“You think?” Fiona licked some of the caked-on salt from the rim and followed it with another nut.
“He’s not just an excellent Dom; he’s a good man.”
“Now it makes total sense why you’ve been moping for two weeks.”
Shelby glared at her friend.
“I know how complicated it can be,” Hannah said. “Did he turn you down?”
“No. But he didn’t offer anything more either. Like it was at its natural conclusion. And when I was leaving… He didn’t seem pleased. I guess he thought I’d stay for the entire day, but it seemed pointless.” She toyed with one of her loose strands of hair. “I didn’t want another scene when I was already feeling emotionally vulnerable.”
“You didn’t want it to be over?”
Shelby sighed. “It needed to be, though. Before I got hurt any worse.”
“So you two never discussed it?” Hannah asked. Then she leaned a little closer. “I’m not one to judge. After the weekend I spent with Mason, he wanted me to stay, make it permanent, move away from Austin, which also meant quitting my job. It was sudden…fast. Too fast. And I didn’t really know how to ask for more time. Couldn’t figure out how to make a long-distance relationship work. The drive would be nine hours or so. Or the constant flights. And not ever enough time together. But uprooting my life after forty-eight hours together seemed insane. So I left.”
Shelby hadn’t heard that much of Hannah’s story before. She knew Mason had bid on her in a Quarter slave auction event, and she knew the two were together, but she hadn’t known how rocky their beginning had been. “Trevor never said anything like that. I think maybe he assumed…” She pursed her lips. Assumed what? That they’d keep seeing each other? Date? “But it doesn’t matter. The truth is once I started falling for him, I needed to get away.”
“It’s your stupid job,” Fiona proc
laimed, picking up her glass and taking an enormous drink. “And your dumb fuck of an ex.”
“Another round, ladies?”
Oh God. The server had overheard them? And she was too professional to reveal anything. “I think we’re good,” Shelby said. After all, they had dinner plans too.
“Don’t worry,” the woman said. “I have one of those too.” She smiled. “Will this be on one ticket? Or would you like separate bills?”
“I’ll take this one,” Fiona said. “When I break up next week, one of them can pick up the bill.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When they were alone again, Shelby turned to Fiona. “What? Are you and Andrew on the rocks?”
“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “It was a joke.”
But Shelby wondered. There’d been moments of tension at the lake, and this wasn’t the first hint Fiona had given about there being trouble. Not that it was an entire surprise. She’d never had a relationship that lasted very long, and Andrew wanted to move to the next level, something the free-spirited Fiona might struggle with.
“And this is about you. I’m not letting you off the hook. You spend all day, every day immersed in divorce cases. Disaster after disaster. That would take a toll on anyone. And not all men are cheating jackasses like Joe.”
“I know that.” Or master manipulators like her parents.
She thought back to the stories Trevor told her about his upbringing. Needing to be the man of the family and help out financially at age ten. And again, that indelible memory of him with the child at the law center returned to play with her mind. And as he’d said, he wasn’t the type of man to abandon his wife or children. Trevor Lawton was unlike anyone she’d met. And still, she was haunted by the betrayal of her former husband.
Logically she knew Fiona was right on all counts. Maybe spending all day immersed in ugly custody battles and acrimonious matrimonial dissolutions wasn’t in her best interest.
“I’m also going out on a limb here.” Fiona waved her straw as if it was a battle flag. “Hiding away isn’t helping one little bit, is it?”
The server returned with the bill, saving her from answering.
Before they left to go to the restaurant, Fiona got in a parting shot. “Trevor seemed every bit as lonely as you are. Just for the record.”
They left the car with the hotel’s valet and walked to one of their favorite restaurants about three blocks away where they had another round of drinks to go with their enormous Creole sampler plate.
“Those tea leaves are going to be really interesting,” Hannah said.
Fiona nodded. “Agreed.”
A few minutes before nine, they entered the brightly lit shop. Even though it was Shelby’s second visit and she knew what to expect, the storefront still seemed at odds with the other world that lay beyond the obvious.
“We’re here to see Madame,” Shelby told the woman in front of the cash register.
“She’s expecting you.” She waved toward the threshold. “Please. Go up the stairs.”
Hannah and Fiona exchanged glances; then they followed Shelby through the curtain crafted from tinkling strands of silver circles.
Unlike last time, the door to the private shop was closed. As they ascended to the second level, the sounds from below faded, and their shoes echoed off the ancient wooden planks.
At the top, there was a yellow door with a large brass knocker in the shape of a grotesque replica of the horned, winged gargoyle famously perched atop Notre Dame Cathedral. She took a breath and raised her hand toward the odd-shaped head, not quite sure how to best grab it, but the knob turned, and Madame stood in the opening.
Her smile was warm, and the hand she waved extended to all of them. Her numerous bracelets slid together in a momentary beautiful symphony. “Welcome.” This evening, as expected, she was barefoot. Her long diaphanous gown was varying shades of green, mostly emerald, but with swatches of forest, fading to mint in the delicate pleats. “I’ve looked forward to this day.”
She glanced at Shelby’s throat. Then, seeming to notice the absence of the collar, Madame nodded before embracing Shelby. For maybe thirty seconds, she stayed where she was, grateful for the woman’s intuitive understanding of the comfort she needed.
When she was stronger, Madame patted her shoulder reassuringly before releasing her.
She turned to her right. “You’re Fiona.” It wasn’t a question. “Fierce, oui? Protector of all. It’s my pleasure.”
Fiona blinked. Shelby was stunned that her friend had no immediate comeback.
“And Hannah. Strong and creative. Perhaps more than you’d ever realized?”
“Uh… Uhm…”
“She is,” Fiona supplied loyally.
“And a heart that is big,” Madame continued, still addressing Hannah. “Perhaps a little guarded yet?”
“Do we even need the reading?” Hannah asked. “I feel as if I’ve already had it.”
“Yet you have questions that linger.” Again, Madame Giselle made a pronouncement. “S'il vous plaît.” Madame stepped back to invite them in.
Her apartment was as unique as she was. Large antique pieces dominated the space, but it was wide open and bright. Fresh flowers adorned almost every surface.
They followed her into a kitchen with floor-to-ceiling white cabinets. The oversize industrial appliances hinted that she enjoyed entertaining. And on the marble countertop was a dizzying array of matching cups and saucers. There were also numerous teapots. Some were whimsical. Others were made from stout stoneware. Several were delicate porcelain. Behind them was an orderly row of tins, each labeled with the name of a different tea.
Madame silently crossed to the stove and turned on a burner to heat the kettle. “Who would like to be first?”
No one volunteered.
“I suggest Fiona, oui?”
Fiona pursed her lips together, surprising Shelby. Since Fiona was bold, up for anything, her hesitation was unusual.
“No need for nerves.” Madame’s voice soothed. “Begin by selecting a cup and saucer you like.”
Now that she was given a task, Fiona seemed more confident. Her hand shook only slightly as she selected a bright blue cup with matching saucer.
“Perfect.” Madame didn’t seem surprised by the choice. “Now measure a teaspoon of tea.”
Fiona reached for oolong and waited while Madame poured hot water on the loose leaves.
“There’s an art to this.” Madame placed the kettle on the stove, and again her bracelets tinkled. “You’ll enjoy your tea and leave a little at the bottom of cup. When we get to the reading, you will be looking for symbols, letters and such. Clear your mind and be open to whatever appears.”
As Madame spoke, Fiona finished her beverage.
“Good. Good. Now consider what you want. Do you wish to know some general things? Or is there something specific you desire guidance on?”
Fiona frowned in deep concentration.
“Take the handle in your left hand and silently ask your question. When you are ready, rotate your cup counterclockwise three times.”
Transfixed, Shelby watched.
“Gently turn your cup upside down over your saucer. Then we’ll leave it for about a minute while it drains.”
Fiona exhaled and followed the instructions.
When Madame nodded, Fiona picked up the cup.
“As I mentioned, have a look to see what images might be there. Sometimes it’s helpful to look at larger patterns first.”
Shelby glanced over. Most of the leaves had drained onto the plate, but plenty remained. Some at the base of the cup, others clinging to the sides.
Fiona shook her head. “I don’t see anything.”
Before responding, Madame turned the burner on once more. “Allow the leaves to reveal themselves. It’s helpful to have an open mind, especially around the question you were having.”
Fiona met Shelby’s gaze, and they exchanged shrugs.
�
��Some confusion is normal,” Madame assured them. Though her back was to them, she’d spoken as if she’d seen the exchange.
Trevor had been right. Madame was good.
“Trees.” Fiona stared into the depths of the cup. “An entire forest of them.”
“And where are they located?” Madame turned down the burner before rejoining them.
Fiona scowled. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“Anything close to the handle reflects the present. To its left can signal what is leaving your life; to the right can indicate what may be coming.”
“I’m screwed.” Fiona returned the cup to the saucer with a clatter. “They’re everywhere.”
“Ah. And to you, what does the forest represent?”
Shelby studied her usually unflappable friend. Fiona was frowning, and her hand shook.
“Not being able to see clearly?” Fiona guessed. “That old adage, can’t see the trees for the forest. Or the other way around.” She shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Also the unknown? Mysteries of the unconscious?” Madame’s words were gentle. “Tell me about the bottom of the bowl. What’s coming to pass eventually.”
“This could be wishful thinking. But it could be a sun.”
“May I?” Madame glanced at the leaves but didn’t touch the cup. “The sun. Yes. And over here. Rotate the cup toward you. Perhaps that’s an ankh? The Egyptian symbol?”
“I see it!” Fiona nodded.
“Sometimes it’s a symbol of protection? We know how fiercely you take care of your loved ones.” Madame paused, and everyone studied her. When she spoke again, her words were part curiosity, part steel. “Who does the same for you?”
Fiona shivered. “That’s a little unsettling.”
“Hmm.” Madame’s tiny response was noncommittal. “The question will return when the time is right. Is there anything else there for you?”
“I think I have what I needed.” Fiona placed the cup on the table with a loud clatter.
“Your intuition can be trusted. More will reveal itself in due time.” Madame rested her hand on top of Fiona’s shoulder, then gently patted a couple of times. “All will be well.”
His to Love (Titans Quarter Book 2) Page 18