by Jen Silver
“Nothing is likely to happen for a few weeks yet. Solicitors work at their own pace and there will be a lot of legal shit to wade through. So tell them not to sweat it.”
Penny left the studio none the wiser. Other than knowing that Dani was evidently seeing someone who was giving her satisfaction.
Declan called out as she passed his desk. “Hey, Pen. Want a bacon sarnie? Dani brought them in for us and Gary’s is getting cold.”
“No thanks. You have it.” She thought Declan looked like he could do with putting weight on.
Walking down the hall back to her office, she was struck by a sudden thought. Dani’s daft comment about the toothpaste jingle had sparked an idea. She needed to capture it before it disappeared. She had been struggling for a week to find any creative ideas for the toothpaste copy.
†
Camila had made a sizeable dent in the pile of reports that required her immediate attention and was sitting back with a fresh cup of coffee when her phone rang. She hoped it wasn’t another call from Chris. She’d binned the six message slips that had awaited her that morning. However, the receptionist, Kylie or Kelly, she could never remember, told her Mr Callaghan was on line two.
She had expected a call but not quite this early.
“Hi, Dad. How was Paris?”
“Expensive and full of French people.”
Camila laughed. It was what he always said after a visit to the city.
“We will need to move to a bigger house. Your mother’s filled all the wardrobes in this one.”
Another regular statement. When Camilla spoke to her mother, she made the same remarks only about needing a bigger wine cellar.
“How was Strasbourg?”
“The same as Paris, only on a smaller scale.”
“Your mother and I have been thinking…”
Here it comes.
“You know we only want you to be happy. Do you really think this Dani person can make you happy?”
An image of Dani in the shower flashed through her mind. “Yes. She already does, Dad.”
“We thought you might eventually want a family.”
Meaning you want grandchildren. Well, tough. “But that was never part of my thinking.”
“A career isn’t everything.”
She had to give him credit for trying.
“Your mother thinks this is a passing phase.”
“Dad, I’m thirty-nine.”
“Exactly. You need to think about starting a family before it’s too late.”
The Internal Call light on her phone was flashing. Saved by the light. “Sorry, Dad. I have an incoming call. Love to you both.”
†
Minutes later she was sitting in Eric’s office in one of the easy chairs arranged in the alcove by the window. The room bore more resemblance to a hotel suite than a place of business. The only thing missing was a bed.
Eric sat opposite, legs crossed, Carl in his familiar pose, standing by the window. Now she knew why. She didn’t think Dani would be sitting down today either.
“Congratulations to you both. It’s a bit early for champagne, so we will have to make do with tea. Carl, would you be mother?”
Camila waited while Carl poured tea into china cups. She only drank tea when she was with the Redmonds, but she knew it was a morning ritual for them.
“Carl says the panel was impressed with the thoroughness of our report. They couldn’t pick any holes in it. And I believe that’s down to your hard work.” He raised his teacup in a mock salute.
After discussing the way forward for their newly approved product, assigning a brand manager, and looking at extra staffing requirements, Dani’s name came up.
“So there won’t be any problem with Dani working on the packaging spec?” Eric looked over at Carl for confirmation.
Camila crossed her legs, aware of a gathering warmth.
“I shouldn’t think so. Whatever happens with MBE, she will carry on doing work for us.”
“Shame we couldn’t persuade her to come on board.”
Carl winked at Camila. “Somehow I don’t think that’s really on the cards now.”
She smiled weakly.
Eric turned his gaze on her. “Ah, yes. So how did it go last night?”
Camila looked from one to the other. A week ago she wouldn’t have dreamt of sharing details of her sex life with either of them. Now, though…who else could she talk to?
“It was harder than I thought it would be. I don’t think I was as domineering as she would have liked.”
Eric grinned at her. “Takes practice.”
“Fine. Do I need to go on a dominatrix-training course?”
Carl joined in. “Another business opportunity we’ve overlooked.”
After their laughter died down, he added, “But seriously, Camila. You just have to do what feels right for you. It will come.” He smiled at their expressions. “Sorry, poor choice of word.”
“Is it, perhaps, the words that bother you, Camila?” Eric leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. She recognised this as his “closing the deal” pose, which she had seen him use on many prospective clients. “Dominance, submission, erotic pain…they can sound intimidating to a novice. Personally, I like to think of SM as sensuality and mutuality. It’s a prearranged agreement, a contract, if you like. You’re our expert on negotiating contracts.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “I’m sure you and Dani will be able to agree to personal terms satisfactory to both parties.”
Camila looked from one to the other, as both gave her reassuring looks. She was grateful for their support, but unless they changed the subject, she was going to need to go home for a change of underwear, at the very least. She smiled back. “Speaking of contracts, I would like to recheck the numbers on the American one.”
They both grinned as if she had said something funny. Eric switched back into business mode first and said, “Yes, of course.”
She escaped back to the sanctity of her office and closed the door. Leaning against it, she took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm her body’s reactions to the images swirling around in her mind. Camila felt she had slipped down a rabbit hole like Alice. In Strasbourg, buoyed by the success of their mission, talking to Carl about intimate things hadn’t seemed strange. Here in the office, the place where she was in control, it was too unsettling. Shaking her head, she sat at her desk and immersed herself in the first spreadsheet she could find.
†
Several times during the day, Dani thought about going to see Gordon. She even set off towards his office midmorning with the intention of talking to him—if he wasn’t there, she could at least check out the new version of Maria—but got no farther than the door of the studio before the phone rang again.
It was Annette Harmon’s secretary wanting to set up an appointment. Dani put her off, saying she would call back later.
She overheard Gary enthusing about Gordon’s new PA’s attributes when he returned. Penny had left the door open, so she clearly heard him say, “He is so cute. The smallest mouth I’ve ever seen—”
“You can stop there. I don’t want to know where you’re going with that,” had been Declan’s caustic response.
Dani smiled to herself, gently closing the door so she could return to her own work undisturbed. She saw what Penny meant about the toothpaste drawing. It needed some modification to look less like a sex toy.
By the end of the day, she still hadn’t seen Gordon, but with each hour that passed all concerns faded into the background as she anticipated the evening ahead with Camila. She hadn’t phoned, but Dani guessed she would have a lot of number crunching to keep her busy after the Strasbourg visit.
She walked back along the river and resisted the temptation to visit any of the pubs en route. The crowds of after-work drinkers enjoying the sunshine made it difficult to walk past, though. But she found herself smiling as she walked. Everything today just seemed brighter; she felt more alive
.
†
At home she checked the state of the bedroom first. It was as they’d left it that morning, a mess. Dani picked up Camila’s discarded bodice and stockings, wondering what to do with them. Eventually she decided to lay them out on the bed in the spare room opposite. She replaced the cane Camila had used next to its twin in the box and laid that reverentially next to them.
Turning her attention to the bed, she thought changing the sheets would be a good idea. They would probably need changing again by morning, but Camila would appreciate the effort. She had just finished struggling with the duvet when the doorbell rang. Smoothing the cover over the top, she ran down the stairs to open the door.
Dani caught her breath at the sight of Camila’s loveliness, highlighted by the sun’s rays reaching down from the end of the street. She was holding a suit bag in one hand and her briefcase in the other. Dani stood aside to let her in.
Swallowing hard, Dani asked, “Are you going away again?”
“No. We’re meeting some of our American suppliers tomorrow.”
Dani took the suit bag from her and hung it on the coat rack. Camila put her briefcase down and pulled Dani into a hug.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her hands reaching around to cup Dani’s backside. “Are you still sore?”
“Yes, but it feels so good.” Dani kissed her and moaned as Camila’s tongue sought out hers while her hands increased their pressure. This was ecstasy, and her clit throbbed as a pulsating desire built throughout her body.
They lay on the floor in the living room as the sky darkened towards night. In the fading light, Dani suddenly laughed. “I changed the sheets. I think I might need a new carpet now.”
Camila stroked her arm. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t wait.”
A rumbling noise startled them and they both laughed. “Guess that’s another hunger that needs satisfying.” Dani sighed. “Sorry, it’s either toast or takeaway. Oh, but there are eggs.”
“Eggs will be fine.”
“You’ll need to cook them. I can only do toast.”
“My cooking skills aren’t up to much either, but I think I can manage eggs.”
†
Camila woke with the light streaming through the window. Dani never closed her curtains, but her bedroom overlooked the river, so unless a low-flying plane was going past, no one could see in.
She looked at Dani’s sleeping form. Her long legs were tangled in the sheets. The welts from the cane were clearly defined. Not quite sure why she felt compelled to do it, Camila moved down the bed and placed her tongue on one of the cuts. She licked the length of it and was greeted with a stifled moan from her lover. Starting on the second one, she placed her hand between Dani’s thighs and found a warm liquid trickling across her fingers.
Dani’s moans turned into loud cries and she screamed Camila’s name as the orgasm shook her whole body and the bed.
Camila drew herself up to meet Dani’s gaze when Dani turned over.
“Where did you learn to do that? I’ve never experienced anything like it before.”
“It just felt right.”
“It felt more than right. Oh, my God.” Dani’s body convulsed again.
Camila held her until her breathing calmed. They kissed, and when Dani had recovered, she made love to Camila tenderly, but with a passion that had Camila on the edge of losing her mind completely before she came.
†
Parting from Dani that morning was hard. Made harder still telling her she couldn’t see her that night. They were entertaining the Americans and Camila needed to be on top of her game.
“See you at the barbecue tomorrow. You have the address, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
The arrival of her taxi stopped her from pulling Dani into another embrace. Willing herself not to look back, she climbed into the vehicle and kept her eyes on the road ahead.
Chapter Nineteen
Dani rang the doorbell and waited. The fine summer weather was holding; it was a lovely evening for a barbecue. She had been able to smell the cooking hamburgers as she approached the house, which she had been relieved to find was within a half-hour walk from home. In fact, when she’d checked the address in the London A–Z map book, she saw it was only a few streets away from where Eric and Carl lived. She had asked what Camila’s friends did for a living to be able to afford a house there. Not surprisingly, one of the women, Deborah, had inherited it from her parents. She didn’t have a full-time job, just volunteered a few days a week at a tourist office.
A small woman, with long dark hair draped loosely around her bare shoulders, opened the door.
“Hi, I’m Dani.”
The woman looked her up and down as though she suspected her of selling something.
“Is Camila here yet?”
“No.” Her expression softened. “Oh, you’re her guest.”
“Yeah. She said she might be a bit late.”
“Come in, then. I’m Deborah.” She led the way down a short hallway.
“Deborah. That’s a nice name.”
The woman turned and looked at her again. “My friends call me Debs.”
Dani grinned at her, “Okay, Debs. This bottle is for you.” She handed her the wine she had bought at the off-licence on the way, still wrapped in green tissue paper.
“How long have you known Camila?” Deborah asked, taking the bottle.
“A few months, I guess.”
“Yes, but how long have you known her?” She placed the emphasis on known and winked.
“Two weeks, on and off.”
“Hm. That’s interesting.”
“Why interesting?” They were in the kitchen now. Deborah had unwrapped the bottle and seemed duly impressed by the label.
“We knew she had met someone through work, but knowing Camila, it didn’t seem likely she would pursue it.”
“Why’s that?”
“She’s not really been interested in anyone since Allison. Nothing serious, anyway. No one who could compete with a dead person.” Deborah gave her another appraising look. “Seeing you, though, I can see how she’s managed to overcome her reticence.”
“How am I supposed to take that?”
“However you want. What would you like to drink?”
“Beer, if you’ve got it.”
“There’s some London Pride in the fridge.”
Dani reached past her and opened the fridge door. There were several rows of cans; she selected one and popped the tab.
“Glass?”
“Nah. I wouldn’t want to ruin my image.”
Deborah laughed. “Come on, you might as well start to mingle.”
Deborah introduced her to some other women who were in the living room. The television was on with the sound off but no one was watching it. More guests were outside, some hovering by the barbecue, others sitting round tables—drinking, chatting—in the fragrant-looking sunlit garden.
The doorbell sounded and Deborah went off to answer it.
Camila appeared by her side and slipped an arm around her waist. “Sorry, the meeting went on a bit.”
Dani kissed her lightly. “Not a problem. I just got here.”
“So, Camila, is she any good…as a graphic designer, I mean?” asked one of the women in the group. They had just got through basic introductions and finding out what the newcomer did for a living.
“The best,” said Camila easily as Deborah appeared at her elbow with a gin and tonic.
†
Dani wasn’t at all what Deborah had expected. When she opened the door to the stranger, a tall, slim figure wearing a white T-shirt, black vest, tight black jeans, and studded belt, her first thought had been that the woman had the wrong house.
Watching Dani as she interacted with some of the other guests, Deborah could see the attraction though. She drew people to her with her stunning looks and confident stance. Hard to believe Camila had met her through work.
She was in the wro
ng job—she didn’t have anyone like that coming through the door of the tourist office in Kingston.
Deborah was checking Chris’s movements as well. She kept asking when Camila would be there and each time the answer was “later”, she poured herself another glass from the potent punch on the sideboard. With only a few weeks until the end of term, her partner seemed to be treating this as a start of the summer holiday party. She was definitely demob-happy.
When Camila did finally arrive, full of apologies for being late, Deborah thought she must have gone home to change first. Her office attire surely didn’t consist of a strapless summer dress that clung to every curve on her body. Chris couldn’t keep her eyes off her—the soppy infatuated look on her face made Deborah want to slap her.
She didn’t intend to make a scene now. Not in front of their guests. She should have made the change a long time ago. This was her house, the legacy from her parents along with their substantial fortune. She paid all the bills. And Chris was treating it like a hotel with all amenities to hand, including her. Deborah sucked in a deep breath. A new life was most certainly going to begin at forty for Chris…and for her.
†
The evening progressed with the eating of charred food interspersed with salads, bread rolls, and more drinks. Camila stayed close to Dani throughout. Neither of them drank or ate much. At some point they all sang a raucous, out-of-tune “Happy Birthday” to Chris, and Deborah brought out a cake with four large candles on it—one for each decade. By this time, Dani was in a high state of longing; she just wanted to go home with Camila and make love.
“Do you think we could go now?” she asked while the cake cutting was going on.