by Cox, Chloe
“I do,” Ford said quietly. He leaned back in his desk chair and watched her for an uncomfortable second. “I have to ask, Cate—Jason?”
She stiffened, then forced herself to relax. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She hadn’t.
“I’m divorcing him,” she said.
“Amicably?” Ford asked.
Cate gritted her teeth. “Anything but. And Ispanp h. And Im handling it.”
“I have to ask for the sake of the club, Cate. Anything else,” he said, his eyes drifting toward the door Soren had left slightly ajar, “is not my business.”
Cate sighed. “It’s a difficult situation, Ford. Jason…” She paused, surprised that she still couldn’t bring herself to say it, even to a man who probably already knew. “Jason turned out to be a bastard. I appreciate your discretion.”
Ford looked at her for a moment, his face unreadable. She was asking him to hide her marriage from people, at least implicitly, at least by omission. It wasn’t a fair request, but Cate didn’t have the luxury of caring about that.
“Of course.”
Cate studied him. Had she ever really known Ford very well? She had heard rumors, back in law school, of a woman who’d hurt him, something with his family. But he’d always been so put-together, so remote, and Cate had had her own things to hide, it was as though they’d understood each other enough to give each other a wide berth.
And now she was trusting him with so much. They were trusting each other. It had been a week of trust falls, basically.
“You don’t seem surprised by what I said about Jason,” Cate said.
Ford got up and out of his chair, a faint smile playing across his lips, and walked over to where Cate stood.
“That’s because I’m not,” he said, and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Just remember that everyone has rules for a reason, even Soren. Welcome to Volare.”
chapter 6
Soren was waiting for Cate.
He hated waiting. It made him feel…charged.
And it made it damn hard to focus on this conversation that was going on around him, even though it was about him.
“Maybe it wasn’t so bad,” Molly said quietly. “Maybe nobody pays attention to press conferences. I mean, they have to know the other side is going to lie, right? That lawyers lie?”
The forlorn quality to her voice got Soren’s attention—no one ever wanted any of their friends to sound like that. Plus, she wasn’t her usual bright self. Instead she was slumped in one of Volare’s comfy chairs, distractedly picking at the label on her beer bottle.
Declan shot him a look that said, Fix this now.
“Jesus, Molly, stop it,” Soren said. “Right fucking now, stop it. This is not your fault. We always knew this was coming,/fon right? They were going to do a press conference, they were going to tell lies. It’s not your fault.”
“Would there be a lawsuit without my book?” Molly countered. She looked miserable. “Can you honestly tell me this would have happened if I hadn’t written that book?”
“There totally would have been.”
They all looked at Brian, who was speaking up for the first time since arriving at Club Volare. Prior to this the man appeared to have lost all ability to speak, gaping around in wonder and delight at all the beautiful women and all the shiny equipment.
“What?” Brian said, wide eyed. “Soren whored around a whole bunch, in public, and he did it with whips and stuff while getting insanely rich. Someone was probably going to try to take advantage of that eventually. No offense.”
“None taken,” Soren said, leaning back and training his eyes on the entrance. He wasn’t going to miss it when Cate arrived. They hadn’t seen each other since the night he’d signed the retainer agreement, and Soren was in withdrawal. He’d been thinking about her nonstop. He’d known she would feel good, but he hadn’t known how good.
Goddamn, no one could be prepared for how she’d felt under his hands. He could barely think without wondering what it would feel like to bury his cock inside her.
Besides, Brian had a point. A man in his position, with his tastes, might as well have painted a target on his back. That it hadn’t happened before the publication of the book was just dumb luck.
“It’s not your fault, Molly,” Declan said softly. “You wrote the book we wanted you to write. You wrote the truth. And you brought the band back together. Stop beating yourself up.”
“God, it was just so…” Molly ran her hand through her blonde hair and looked at Soren again. She seemed constantly surprised that he wasn’t more broken up about the things people said about him on television. “Soren, it was brutal. It was hard for me to watch them say those things about you, I can’t even imagine…”
Soren just shrugged. Molly didn’t have to know he was used to it.
“I have a thick skin,” he said.
Declan gave him a hard stare. “Then what’s getting to you?”
Damn.
“I, too, am curious,” Brian said, his eyes wandering briefly over a latex-clad lady. “Spill, bro. We’re in this together.”
“Perceptive sons of bitches,” Soren muttered.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Molly said. Even Molly wouldn’t pick up on something like this. You had to have been there with Soren from the beginning to get a feel for this kin
“Sonya’s been calling,” Soren said.
“Your sister?” Brian said, dumbfounded.
“You have a sister?” Molly said.
Declan was quiet. Thoughtful. “What does she want?”
Soren met Declan’s eyes. He didn’t need to say it. Sonya, Soren’s sister in blood only, had been Julia’s best friend back in high school. The Julia. The only woman Soren could claim to have loved, if he really had, if he’d really been capable, and the one he never spoke about. The one Declan had helped him get over.
Sonya had been the world’s worst sister. She used to encourage their step-father when he went after Soren, and since Soren had hit it big she only ever wanted money. There was no reason to think she’d changed. And now she was contacting Soren again out of nowhere after his name was in the news for a BDSM-inspired lawsuit?
“Does she want money?” Declan asked.
“No idea,” Soren said. “I don’t take her calls.”
Soren had always thought he had finally become completely numb to his family’s bullshit, that he’d finally scarred all the way over, that it had no way to affect his life. And now he was finding out that even he didn’t want to believe that Sonya would threaten to sell Julia’s story—or some made-up version of it—to a lawyer. Or the press. Or anyone. He was finding out that he still had expectations. Or worse, hope.
They still had ways to hurt him.
Goddammit, not Julia.
“You should find out what she wants,” Declan said.
“You have a sister?” Molly said again.
“Maybe we should stay out of it,” Brian mumbled.
“Look,” Soren said, loud enough to draw some attention. “If Sonya or anyone else wants to come after me, they can come after me. I’ll take it. But I’m not playing anyone’s bullshit games, you understand?”
Silence.
“See?” Brian said.
Declan was suspiciously quiet. The only person who could match Soren for stubbornness was staring right back at him, and Soren knew he wouldn’t drop it, not while he perceived Sonya as a potential threat. Which infuriated Soren. He didn’t need protection from anyone.
“Soren…” Molly said.
Oh, man, Mowid>Oh, mally getting involved. Molly and her soft spot for sisters.
“She was older than me, Mol, and a horrible person,” Soren said. “You can relax. She’s nothing like Lydia.”
“Speaking of which…” Molly trailed off, her face lighting up as she looked at her phone. That meant it was Lydia calling—Molly’s pregnant little sister. Lydia had decided on an open adoption and was about to spend the weekend with the adoptive parent
s, and Soren could have sworn it was like Molly was sending her kid to the first day of school or something.
He smiled and wondered if Declan knew how much that woman was meant to be a mom. Not too long ago, the idea of being a dad would have been a non-starter for Declan—just like Soren, Declan’s childhood sucked, and he had always said he would never have kids. Now, though?
Man, did things change.
Well, for some people.
Watching Declan and Molly grow into a family all on their own had been a weird experience for Soren. He loved seeing them happy, but he could never imagine himself in a situation like that, making his own family. Soren always orbited on the outskirts of his own found family of friends, but that wasn’t the same thing. That wasn’t quite belonging to someone. And that’s how Soren was built: freestanding.
It made him wonder, though, about when he’d almost thought that was something for him. About Julia. And it made him wonder about what he really was now.
Until he saw Cate come through that door.
Soren stood up, watched Cate move through the club, all lithe grace and hints of both insecurity and strength, felt his blood pump into every last part of his body, and knew exactly what he was. He was the Dom who was going to bring that woman out into the light. Right fucking now.
After all, he hadn’t made all those plans for nothing.
~ * ~ * ~
Cate held out her hand, saw that it was trembling, and cursed. Silently, in her head, she cursed a blue streak.
What was wrong with her?
She’d had too much time to think—that was the problem. Thinking was what she was good at, but she didn’t know how to quit, and if she didn’t have something to distract her, her mind would just think itself into…well, apparently into a very bad place.
She’d ridden a high for a little while after she’d met with Soren, after he’d signed the retainer agreement, after he’d made her come against a wall. After he’d made her ride his leg in the middle of a club, wih, f a cluth people around, in sight. After she’d done it because he’d told her to, and had done it gladly. Giddily.
Yeah, she must have been high on some kind of brain chemical. And now she was coming down.
She was convinced that this was insane. What was she doing here? Club Volare? What had she been thinking? Her mind came up with all sorts of rational reasons for her to be worried—what would Jason do when he saw her on television responding to Mark Cheedham’s press conference on behalf of her brand new client, Soren Andersson? How could she think getting involved with a client was a good idea, no matter what the circumstances?—but in the end, they were all just labels for this feeling of fear, and none of the labels really quite fit.
The truth was that she had never been so raw as she had been in Soren’s arms. And that was freaking terrifying. For a woman who spent most of her life making sure she was well protected, it was unfathomable.
And here she was again, in the very place where it had happened, the very place that had made it possible. Club Volare.
What the hell was she thinking?
“Post-initiation freak out?” someone asked.
Startled, Cate looked to her left to find a smiling face. A pretty face, but not vacant; self-assured. And apparently also fairly perceptive.
“Who are you?” Cate asked.
“My name’s Adra,” the woman said.
And then Adra’s sunny smile was interrupted. Something passed over Adra’s face in the split second it took for Cate to realize someone else was joining them, startling her from the other side—Ford.
“I had meant to introduce you,” Ford said. “Cate, Adra is—”
“I’m a sub,” Adra interjected. “And Ford thought it might be good if we talked. So did I.”
Ford. What the hell was Ford doing?
“Oh my God, this is beyond embarrassing,” Cate muttered. “No offense, Adra, but we don’t know each other, and—”
“We do, actually,” Adra said gently. Somehow she was so…kind. And easy to talk to. Or she would be, without Ford standing on the other side of her.
“Or at least we have a few important things in common,” Adra went on, raising one sly eyebrow. “Bet you’ve never had a friend to talk to about any of this, right? People usually don’t before they come here.”
Cate could feel herself turning red. Adra was, of course, totally correct, but something about having this conversation in front of Ford, who was still, technically, a colleague, was sending her into a panic. An angry panic. Ford was putting her on the spot, and Cate was in no way ready for it.
“Ford, this is one of those times when you should politely excuse yourself,” Adra said.
And then she gave Ford what could only be described as a knowing look. A look Ford returned for altogether a little bit too long.
Whatever passed between Adra and Ford was powerful. It was charged. It practically made Cate’s hair stand on end.
“Understood,” he finally said, nodded at them both, and walked away.
Cate wasn’t proud of it, but the fact that she’d just witnessed some obvious personal drama somehow made her feel slightly less embarrassed about the idea of Ford discussing her own life with strange women. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling raw and vulnerable. It was written all over Adra’s face.
“You know, whatever that was shouldn’t make me feel better,” Cate said in the kindest way she could, “But it does. Are you ok, person who I don’t know at all?”
“Yeah,” Adra said, though she didn’t look it. She sighed. “Ford and I are probably a pretty good example of why it’s good to have someone to talk to about your new D/s relationship so you don’t screw it up right away.” She shrugged, grinned. “You know, teach by example.”
Cate grinned back. She liked this woman. This woman seemed to…get it.
Even so, Cate had come here for a purpose, and every second spent wondering how her meeting with Soren would go was another opportunity for her crazy mind to twist a little tighter. She knew if she held out her hand, it would still be shaking.
“Adra, I’m here to meet someone,” Cate began.
“Right, I know. Soren. Just give me five minutes,” Adra said. “Humor me. Ford can be kind of clumsy in that way that men are, but he’s not wrong. Just…five minutes, ok?”
Cate looked around anxiously. She didn’t see Soren immediately, but there were more people in the main room today. She didn’t have a clear view.
“Five minutes, or Ford will be on your ass about it anyway,” Adra said.
Cate gave up and laughed. This was a club full of people who were at least as headstrong as she was, and if she were being honest, the reasons she wanted to run from this conversation probably weren’t healthy ones. She had feeling no one would let her get away with it.
“Well, that’s the last thing I need, another lawyer on my ass,” she said. “G’head.”
“I know your situation is more complicated than most,” Adra said, leading Cate to a little corner of comfortable chairs. “With the case and everything, I don’t pretend to know anything about how you should handle that. Not my wheelhousee="y wheel. But I can tell you this: whatever you have going on with Soren, whatever the arrangement—”
I have no idea what our arrangement is, Cate thought suddenly. She sat down, for once oblivious of her surroundings, the enormity of that thought taking up all her concentration. They hadn’t worked it out yet. She thought she knew the basic boundaries, but wow, that was kind of a big thing to be unclear about.
“No matter what the arrangement,” Adra continued, taking the opposite seat, “exclusive, no strings, whatever, a D/s relationship is still a relationship on steroids. You have to talk to each other. Cate, seriously, look at me. You have to.”
“That seems pretty obvious,” Cate said. “No offense.”
“Well, so is not leaving the toilet seat up, but look how often that happens.”
Cate looked at her.
“Sorry,”
Adra said. “I’ve had my nephews staying with me until this week. That’s maybe why you haven’t seen me around. It was…” She shuddered. “I had no idea what little boys could do to a bathroom. None.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Ok, so talk to each other, check,” Cate said, realizing that she already had failed to do that, which was maybe one of the reasons why she was freaking out. “Easier said than done, but I assume that’s par for the course.”
“It can screw everything up if you don’t,” Adra said quietly. “You don’t want that.”
Cate studied the other woman. Saw the slight worry lines in her forehead, the concern in her eyes. Adra was all together too serious about this for it to just be friendly advice.
Cate had been so distracted, looking out of the corner of her eye for Soren, freaking out in general, getting embarrassed, that she hadn’t put two and two together until now. Ford had wanted Adra to talk to her because he was worried about the Jason situation. Because he was worried that Cate wasn’t telling anyone about the Jason situation. Because he was worried that Cate wasn’t telling Soren about the Jason situation.
She felt terrible, but it didn’t matter. Talking about it meant being that person in a way that maybe only Cate understood, but it didn’t matter—she couldn’t go back to that. It was like coming up against an immovable wall.
“Ford must realize,” Cate said. “You must realize, and Soren must realize, that total honesty is…not that simple. People aren’t that simple. There’s stuff I don’t even have figured out yet, you know? And if my whole problem is being afraid of…”
Cate let herself trail off. She sounded defensive. Weak.
“I get it, believe me,” Adra said, leaning back and looking back towards the bar area. “It’s not easy. I’m just saying, be aware, and try to figure it out as you go. You can talk to me. I want to tell you to trust your own instincts, but…”
“But what?”
“Well, maybe just don’t trust my instincts, and you’ll be fine,” Adra smiled.