Dan scoffed humourlessly, “Fair enough.” He unstrapped the armband and passed it to Claude, his attention still elsewhere.
“Daniel, forgive me, but I really can’t ignore my friend being in pain. Would you let me-”
“You’ve done enough.”
Claude didn’t pursue the matter. He couldn’t, really.
The fridge door in the bar’s concealed utility room slammed shut, rattling the bottles within violently. Matilda stepped out, freshly off reception, a bottle of wine in her hand. She glared at the Masters at the bar then went to find herself a clean glass.
“What’s your problem?” Dan asked.
Instead of replying, Matilda kissed her teeth and poured herself a generous glass of wine. It was at this point that, unnoticed by Daniel, Claude made himself scarce, because he knew the signs of a furious Matilda and he wasn’t keen to be on the receiving end twice in a week. Daniel, however, was shoulder deep in self-loathing and had no such functioning self-preservation skills.
“Spit it out, Matilda.”
“You’re a damned fool,” she said, fixing him with a hard stare.
“Good to know.”
“You need to fix this, Daniel. You’re not doing anyone any good moping this way, least of all your own sorry self.” Matilda’s accent definitely got stronger when she was cross.
“I can’t. You know I can’t. I made a mistake and that’s the end of it.”
Matilda regarded him for a moment then sighed and passed him the bottle. “Join me.”
“Only if you stop nagging,” he said, hesitantly picking a glass from the rack.
“Never.”
Dan shook his head and poured himself a glass anyway, “I didn’t have any choice, Tils.”
“Don’t call me that, Danny boy. And you did, you had the choice to not be a damned fool.” The determined angle of her eyebrow was enough to deter most from continuing the argument at this point, but Daniel was at least as headstrong as Matilda and probably less patient.
“You were here when Alicia left; would you put yourself through that again?”
“Five years. It’s been more than five years since that girl waltzed out of here with your heart. Are you going to let her keep it ‘til you’re dead or just until you’re too old to care anymore?”
“Matilda-” He tried to interject, but she’d warmed to her theme.
“You might be waiting that long for a woman as right for you as Maisy anyhow! You think chemistry like that grows on trees? I got news for you, big man: it doesn’t.”
Dan huffed resignedly, sensing he wasn’t going to get the upper hand any time soon. “Look, she was ashamed of us, ashamed of me, it would’ve ended the same way. I heard her on the phone the other day, swearing blind she had no idea what sort of business Claude ran here and that she had nothing to do with us - it.”
“You mean when she was on the phone to that rancid boss of hers?” Matilda’s incredulous expression tilted her eyebrows to the point of being anatomically implausible.
“I don’t know who it was. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”
She tutted, “You heard Claude when he came back from that meeting. The man is an ass. I wouldn’t trust him with a pet rock, let alone with any private information, you see, genius?”
Dan nodded begrudgingly, “Right, but that’s not the only thing and you weren’t there the other time so you can’t just shrug it away.”
“Alright then, big man, you tell me what she did, hm? What did that sweet girl do that made you believe she’d stab you in the back?” Matilda folded her arms and regarded him confrontationally.
“We were out in public-” he began.
“Right.”
“I pulled her hair-”
“Mmhmm,” she interrupted again even as he began his next word.
“And she said-”
“Yes?” Her derisive stare could freeze lava.
“Would you stop doing that?” Dan bristled. Matilda hadn’t been there at the shopping centre, but she was making his well-reasoned argument sound ridiculous.
It wasn’t ridiculous. Maisy had denied the nature of their relationship at least twice and he just couldn’t take the risk.
Unless she was on the phone to her boss, he supposed, that would be a legitimate reason to be discreet. And maybe, just maybe, introducing Daniel to an irate brother as the man who ties her up and fucks her until she cries in a public dungeon wouldn’t have been the most tactful decision. Oh.
He sounded less certain when he spoke this time, “Still, I can’t take that risk again, Matilda, I can’t -”
She held her hand up to silence him and interrupted a final time, “I’ve said my piece. I’m done. Drink your wine, hm?”
Dan regarded his glass glumly. Having Maisy in his life and in his home, however briefly, had been remarkable. Having her around for longer would undoubtedly be an experience worth having, but what could he do? Could he really put his neck on the line for what could be and risk a repeat of what had happened five years earlier? He’d had so much more to lose then, but what he had now was precious and fiercely guarded. Could he survive losing everything a second time?
Before he could think any further about Maisy and the decision he’d made so hastily, Claire came hurrying towards them from the dressing rooms.
“Matilda! Glad you’re still here. Listen - Oh. Hi, Master Dan.”
“Evening trainee,” Dan looked at Matilda, who shrugged to indicate she was none the wiser either.
“How can we help you, Claire?” Matilda pushed her glass to one side and sat up taller, automatically more a Mistress in the presence of a sub.
Claire glanced at Dan nervously. His presence seemed to be giving her some reason to hesitate. He considered excusing himself to allow Claire to speak freely, but she gathered herself and began, “You should probably hear this too. I just overheard Jenna on the phone in there and I think she’s up to something.”
“Up to something?” Dan scoffed, “Is she planning a heist?”
Claire rolled her eyes and shifted all of her attention to Matilda, “Seriously, Ma’am, I’m worried. I don’t know who she was talking to, but she mentioned Maisy by her full name and gave the starting time for the anniversary party.”
“What did she say about Maisy?” Dan asked, suddenly much more interested.
Claire ignored him in favour of Matilda, who was also looking concerned, “It might be nothing, but I trust her as far as I can throw her, you know?”
“I know, sweet thing, you did well telling us.” Matilda stood and took Claire’s hand. “We’ll talk to the boss man, hm? See if we can’t keep an eye on Jenna this weekend.”
They started towards Claude’s office. “Matilda!” Dan called after her. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “Thank you,” he said.
She nodded sagely and continued on her way, leaving Dan staring blankly at an untouched glass of wine.
Chapter 35
Trespass
Maisy tugged her bronze armband up for at least the twentieth time. It had been Claude’s idea to give her the armband for event night, so the trainees and staff would know who to take orders from. It was a fine idea, but Maisy wished she’d realised how uncomfortable the damn things were.
The Masters and Mistresses milling about doing last minute jobs still wore their black bands. Maybe you get used to them if you wear them for long enough.
William came out from behind the bar with a case of champagne under each arm. Maisy bit back the desire to tell him to be more careful. Last time she’d given him an order he’d called her Mistress Maisy in front of everyone and now they were all saying it, much to William’s delight.
Just a metre or so to the left, at the same height as William’s head, an impatient foot tapped. The violinist it belonged to had been the first member of the band to arrive, the first to set up, and the first to begin exuding symptoms of extreme boredom.
If truth be told, Maisy was glad she was wearin
g the armband when she approached this sour faced man and his band mates, it certainly made her feel more confident in her authority.
“Okay, guys, thank you for your patience. Would you begin the cocktail hour set, please?” The swing band struck up a medium tempo number, something to get toes tapping, but not so loud or fast as to distract from conversation. That set was for after dinner when, hopefully, there would be dancing.
Maisy took the last opportunity of the night to step into the middle of Club Drift’s main hall and take in her work all at once.
The band, neatly dressed in vintage style tuxes that matched the staff uniforms, were the focal point of the room up there on the oversized bar. Maisy had remarked to Claude that the bar was finally worth whatever money he’d paid for the ridiculous thing. Claude had raised an eyebrow at her 5’2” frame, but said nothing. Maisy wasn’t the first diminutive submissive to object to his bar.
The stage-come-bar was opposite the main door. Maisy could just about hear voices coming from reception. They were almost ready to begin. The bulk of the room was empty and ready to become a dance floor. Maisy had been absolutely thrilled when Claude allowed her to install a huge chandelier. It would have been such a shame to settle for a glitter ball in a room like this.
Her light technicians had set the atmospheric lighting hours ago, soft orb like reflections from the obscenely expensive crystal chandelier covered the room in otherworldly light, as if a thousand tiny moons from a thousand tiny worlds had been borrowed to illuminate the great event.
Large round tables were arranged in a semi-circle facing the bar. Maisy automatically counted chairs and glasses from her vantage point in the centre of the room.
Her favourite company to hire dinnerware, tables, and chairs from always set up before the event anyway. Getting the event set up within Club Drift’s exacting privacy standards had been easier than she’d expected. It’d been a close call to get everyone out though, with Maisy’s old friend, the florist, only leaving fifteen minutes before the first eager guests arrived.
The red carpet had been laid behind the tables, so that people entering from reception were guided around the room and funnelled into the central dance floor instead of immediately sitting down. William’s staff were waiting with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.
All the service staff were house Masters, regular employed staff, or trainee subs and all of them had volunteered. There wasn’t a St. Andrew’s Cross or a whip in sight. There was equipment set up back in the tunnels as usual, but to stumble across anything untoward an unwelcome guest would have to wander very far indeed. That is, unless they saw the guest’s outfits first.
Maisy signalled to Matt, the bearded American Master, who threw open the reception door with a flourish.
First through the door were Xavier and Mistress Chloe. Even though she’d been expecting some magnificent outfits, especially from these two, Maisy’s jaw dropped. Chloe was stark naked, her coffee coloured skin covered by thousands upon thousands of stick on diamonds. From a distance you might think she was wearing an elaborate ball gown, but up close there was no mistaking the nature of her non-existent dress. She grinned at Maisy’s astounded expression, she knew she looked radiant. Maisy immediately regretted not organising a best dressed prize.
Xavier was even more naked, he wore only black gems stuck on around his throat in the shape of a bow tie with some shockingly tight latex under things. Luckily for him it was warm in the Club tonight. Behind them she saw glimpses of collars and leads, tassels and handcuffs, latex and lace.
Maisy resisted the urge to stand and watch all the guests arrive. She’d have plenty of time to see their interpretations of Fetish-Formalwear later. Besides, at some point Dan was going to walk through the door and she’d rather not be gawping at it when he did.
Instead, she sought out the service volunteers not currently weighed down with trays.
In the end, Claude had decided on a sit-down meal and Maisy had been left with the task of providing full catering services without any external staff needing to see inside Club Drift. It had seemed an impossible ask at first, but the solution had become obvious the moment Claude mentioned that they had a car park out the back.
Having always arrived by foot, Maisy had never known it existed. She could bring in the same travelling caterers she used for rural weddings in woods or fields.
The catering truck could work out in the car park and she’d have the service volunteers ferry food through to the main room. So long as they were speedy, the food should arrive to the tables hot.
And if someone forgot to take their uniform handcuffs off before going out there? Well, maybe the chef would think it was a new fashion thing. Collars have been going in and out of vanilla fashion for years, after all, handcuffs aren’t that much of a jump.
Maisy gestured at her gang of workers to follow her. “Let’s just run through the route one more time, check for obstacles, then say hello to the kitchen, yeah?”
The all followed her without question. In fact, none of them had questioned her authority all day, which was a relief. She’d thought that as a newcomer and a submissive she’d be laughed at when she took control, but it hadn’t been a problem.
Of course it hadn’t, she chastened herself for the thought. She’d been a submissive when she was here with Dan, but tonight she was working. Tonight she was just Maisy Bennett, event planner extraordinaire, about to knock it out of the park with her first solo contract.
“Grab that for me, please,” She gestured with her clipboard at a box that’d been left in their way. Someone picked up the box and flattened it ready to go in the recycling bin on the other side of the car park.
As they approached the back door that led the patch of asphalt where their caterers were currently located, Maisy saw that it’d been left ajar.
“Bloody hell,” She muttered, glad that Claude wasn’t here to see, “Don’t forget, everyone, keep the door closed or guarded at all times. Okay?” They all murmured their assent, several of them frowning at the open door. They were all members and workers here, they valued the club’s privacy as much as Claude. What clumsy arse had left the door open?
Maisy led the group out to the kitchen to check on the first course. She didn’t notice Jenna watching the open door from the nearest tunnel.
Chapter 36
The Main Event
When she re-entered the main room it was heaving with the sound of laughter and corks popping. These must be nearly all the guests on the list by now.
She glanced to the reception door again. When either everyone who’d RSVP’d had arrived or the sit-down meal was due to begin, Matilda would come and join the party, leaving security to deal with stragglers.
Carl whizzed past with a tray of smoked salmon bites. Maisy did hope the black glitter in his roots was secure, nobody wants glittery salmon. His uniform was more glitzy than usual too, the usual amount of sparkle on the male trainee uniforms being none at all. She couldn’t wait to see what Claude made of his alterations.
The door to reception swung open and Matilda strode in wearing a spectacular red latex evening dress with a plunging back. Before Maisy could cross the floor to meet her, she was stopped in her tracks by the swing band striking up a loud rendition of ‘Waltzing Matilda.’ There was a moment of shocked silence, then the gathered guests fell about laughing.
Matilda, icy faced, scanned the room to find the source of the prank. As far as Maisy could see, Carl and William were the only people not laughing or playing an instrument. In fact, both men were extremely focused on their work. Always suspicious from either of them.
Matilda fixed the band with a hard stare and they decided unanimously to revert to their swing set. Maisy saw the Mistress glance at William, but if she suspected him she let it drop and continued on her path to Maisy, who was very careful to keep an extremely straight face.
“You have done so well, Maisy.” Matilda kissed Maisy on each cheek, “I think everyone is here a
lready. Shall we let Claude begin his speech soon?”
Maisy nodded, ignoring the fact that ‘everyone’ didn’t seem to include Daniel. She’d wondered if he’d turn up after everything. If truth be told she would have liked him to be there, however awkward it might become. Maisy was proud of the work she’d done for tonight. Dan would have been proud too, back when she was someone for him to be proud of.
“Ready when you are. We’ve got about half an hour until the dinner service starts. Think he’ll be done by then?”
Matilda gave her a sly smile, “I will make sure he is done, I am starving.” She turned and sought out William, found he was deliberately not catching her eye, tutted, and turned to Matt instead. Matilda gave him a discreet thumbs up and the event began in earnest.
The servers who’d been circulating with trays went to fetch fresh bottles with which to furnish the dining tables. Matt and William began offering their arms to ladies and leading them to their assigned places Matilda floated through the crowd, smiling and shaking hands, gesturing at the rapidly filling tables.
Soon, everyone was seated and Claude was left alone in front of the bar. The staff, including Maisy, filed behind the tables so they could hear the owner’s speech.
She thought the line looked sparse. Who was missing? Carl? Jenna? They definitely weren’t all there. The musicians stopped their background music. Club Drift fell silent.
The door to reception creaked conspicuously as Daniel arrived, his hair in a typically dishevelled state, but not a line of his suit out of place. Realising immediately that he was interrupting, he held up a hand in apology and started to make his way around the staff - towards Maisy.
Maisy looked dead ahead. Determined to focus on the task at hand. Frustratingly, Claude became distracted by watching Daniel’s progress. This did mean, though, that when Dan reached her side Maisy was able to catch Claude’s eye and signal for him to get on with it.
“Right then,” Claude gathered himself and smiled benevolently at his guests, “Here we are. For fifteen years we, Club Drift, have had this place as our home here in London. And what marvellous years they have been, non?”
Maisy's Keeper: Club Drift, Book One (The Club Drift Series 1) Page 22