At Her Feet

by Rebekah Weatherspoon

  Pilar’s been in the back of my head all day, but quickly she comes rushing to the forefront. I stick my fingers down the front of my panties and take a few pictures with my phone. One comes out the way I like it and I send it to Pilar along with a text. Luv, Your Little Suzy Girl. I hate that with that one image sent the fun is over. I head back to the conference room where I find Liam eating my chips. I steal his garlic fries.

  “What the hell did you just do?”

  I unleash a devious smile. “Nothing.”

  “Oh, you did something. Tell me.”

  “No. How was your weekend?”

  “Fuck that. Lemme see.” Liam reaches over and snatches my phone.

  I stare in horror for a moment. Then I play it cool. If I panic, he’ll think he’s got something juicy in his hands. “There’s nothing on there.”

  “Like this picture of some ducky underwear and your…Your fingers! You nasty bitch, and you sent it to someone. You sent the duckies to? Who is Mami?” I feel a little better because I know he’s grossed out by vagina. Still.

  “Give me my phone back,” I say.

  “No way. You really call her ‘Mami’? That is so hot. I have to meet this woman.” He tilts my phone and looks closer at the picture. “The duckies are cute, but you need a wax, girl.”

  Suddenly my phone starts to ring. “Give it to me.”

  “Oh my God! It’s her. It’s Mami.”

  “Give me the fucking phone!” I actually dive over the table at this point and lunge for my phone. Liam bobbles it and then tosses it into my hands. I look at the display. It’s Pilar.

  I crawl off the table and straighten my clothes. I take a deep breath while giving Liam the finger, and then I answer. “Hello?”

  “Hi.”

  “How are you?”

  “I’m good, baby. We’re on lunch right now. Thank you for the picture.”

  I know I’m blushing and grinning like an idiot, so I turn around. “Did you like it?” I’m toeing the carpet like an idiot too, but that can’t be helped. I channel my happy down to my feet.

  “I loved it. I loved the doodles you left me as well. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be able to see you tonight, but I miss you. And I’m thinking about you.”

  “You are?” I know I sound ridiculous, but it’s like I’m a meth head and her words are the goods.

  “I am.”

  “Can I call you tonight?”

  “How about I call you and tuck you in over the phone?” Her rules, right.

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  “In your duck panties.”

  Liam’s chewing extra loud to get my attention. I keep my back turned and lower my voice. “In my duck panties. I promise.” God, I want her so bad.

  “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

  “Okay,” I reply. It comes out super breathy and flighty, but I don’t care. We hang up and I spin on Liam.

  “Shut your mouth. Right now.”

  “This. All this happened over one weekend?” he asks.

  “All what?”

  “You should see yourself. I’m waiting for those ducks on your underwear to fly out of the room. You’re like Disney-princess happy. You need to sign me up for that bondage matchmaking service you’re with. I want to be this hung up on someone after three days.”

  “Are you kidding? You were trying to lock Gary down after an hour.”

  “I know, but he doesn’t ask me to send him dirty pics from work.” Liam pretends to cry for a moment before he sags back in his chair with a sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy and not in pieces in her garage, but I was hoping to get a frantic call from you saying she tried to get you to fuck the tongueless gimp in her basement.” He stares at the ceiling with a dreamy expression and says, “And I did envision you running down the street naked, screaming for help.”

  “Thanks. That sounds lovely.”

  “What? You tell me you’re taking up a new dominatrix for the weekend, a boy’s gonna daydream.”

  “She’s not a dominatrix. She’s—”

  “Whatever she is, I’m glad you’re happy. And since you’re so happy, I have some news.”

  “Gary finally agreed to that threesome you want?”

  “Pssht, I wish. No, I want to take this moment when your spirits are extra high to tell you that Andre told me 21 And Up is going to launch a new paper-doll function on their website.”

  “Okay,” I say cautiously.

  “You’ll be able to mix and match outfits on a model that looks nothing like you.”

  “Sounds fun. What’s the problem?”

  “They want it ready for back to school.”

  I laugh because it’ll be at least two weeks before this project gets to me through the proper channels, three weeks considering the way 21 and Up hates to follow the proper channels. That puts us right smack in the middle of July to start building a site option that should be launching in the middle of July. A site option that could take two to three months to build, beginning to end.

  I close my eyes and think of a happier place, where 21 And Up’s main offices mysteriously explode overnight. And then I remind myself there’s only so much my team can do. If 21 And Up wants something so major in so little time, they’ll pay for it. And even then they still might not get it on such short notice.

  I pound my first on the desk and curse louder than I’ve ever cursed before. Liam calls it “The FUCK Heard Round The World.” Mitch comes running to see if I’m okay.

  *

  I’m watching crap TV, hanging off the side of my bed. Frank’s with me and he’s not judging me for my bad taste in television. I called home and talked to my parents. I ate a somewhat healthy dinner. I’m sleepy, but I want to wait for Pilar to call. I wake up drooling, in the most uncomfortable position. I pull Frank from under my neck and roll over. It’s two a.m. and Pilar never called. I’m upset. Still drowsy, but upset. I look at my cell, which I find under my stomach. No missed calls, but there’s a couple texts.

  Sorry, baby. My nephew had an accident. He’s okay, but I’m with my sister. I’ll call you in the morning.

  Now I feel shitty and I’m wondering what happened to her nephew. And I’m wondering if Pilar is okay. I text her back and tell her I’m thinking about her. I have to pee so bad, so I handle that. After that, I turn off my TV and try to go to bed on purpose. It takes a little while, but finally, I fall asleep. Frank’s in my arms. Not under my neck.

  *

  The next morning starts with almost two-dozen e-mails, followed by a conference call. No one from 21 And Up mentions the paper-doll site. I decide to give Katie a heads-up so she doesn’t think she’s about to pass on a piece of information that I might wring her neck for. I’ll tell Valerie, too.

  I steal some gummies from our stockpile of Bee’s candy and head for Katie’s desk. On my way, I stop mid-stride by a rather large bouquet of flowers on my desk. Liam, who can smell intrigue, appears behind me.

  “Are these from…” He lowers his voice. “Are these from your Mami?” He reaches for the card. I slap his hand away.

  “I don’t know who they’re from,” I say.

  “Well, then, look at the damn card.”

  “Go away first.”

  “What the fuck? No. I want to see what dirty things she has to say.”

  “No.”

  “I hate you.” Liam snatches the bag of gummies out of my hand but doesn’t budge another inch.

  “I’m going to look at this card and you’re not going to say a word. I don’t care what face I make. I don’t care if I giggle like a schoolgirl. You say a word and our friendship is over.”

  “I’m gonna laugh if they’re not from her,” Liam says.

  “Oh, God. That would suck.”

  He rolls his eyes at me. “Just open it.”

  I snatch the little envelope open and read the handwritten note.

  I think I owe my little girl more than a phone call.

  I’m a Suzy puddle again. It’s no
t even the miniature garden she’s had sent to my desk. We’ve really just met, and it’s the way she says certain things that has me desperate to make her happy.

  “What does it say?” Liam asks.

  “Nothing.” I hold the card behind my back. “I’m a very busy person with very-busy-person stuff to do. Was there something else I could help you with?”

  “Uh, no, ho. You asked me if I wanted to go out and grab a sandwich.”

  “Right. I need to get out of here. I’ll talk to Katie when we get back.”

  “You gonna drop the bomb?” Katie, the account exec for 21 And Up, the person who is supposed to come to me with these projects so I can estimate a timeline and a budget, still doesn’t know about the new paper-doll portion of the site, and the asshole client wants it in a matter of weeks.

  “Yup.” Was I ever gonna tell her? After lunch. “Let’s go.”

  I text Pilar as we walk to Hearth Cafe. The sandwiches are like forty-five bucks apiece, which is typical for the stretch of commercial real estate between West Hollywood and Beverly Hills. Just as we reach the front doors, Pilar calls me back. I take a few steps back to the sidewalk and answer.

  “Hello.”

  “Good afternoon, baby.”

  “How’s your nephew doing?”

  “He’s much better. His mother just called me. I’d love to tell you all about it tonight. When you come spend the night with me.”

  “You want me to come over?”

  “It’s been a long day and a half. I need my little girl with me.” The way she asks for something while keeping her tone so confident is extremely sexy to me.

  “I’d need to go home and get a change of clothes.”

  “Get here whenever you can.”

  I tell her I will.

  Thank God we hang up before I do something crazy like confessing my absolute infatuation with her. It would make me sound like I’m in love.

  *

  I manage to focus on work for the rest of the afternoon. Still, it’s hard. There are the flowers on my desk that everyone wants to know about. Plus, even though she sent me the large bouquet, that doesn’t excuse me from the daily task I’m to complete.

  After I share that little nugget of wisdom with Katie and talk her down from cursing out her contacts at 21 And Up, I sneak off to the restroom.

  Someone is in one of the stalls, but it’s not a big deal. Today I’m wearing a pair of light-pink panties with little white hearts on them. I slip my dress pants down just enough, then snap a few quick pictures.

  I come out of the stall and find Valerie is washing her hands at the sink.

  “That was some pretty stealthy peeing there.” She chuckles a little.

  “False alarm,” I reply, like having a trick bladder is better than explaining to your boss that you were taking pictures of your underwear for your mistress. She follows me out of the restroom but doesn’t question me further about my weird behavior. But I’m not completely off the hook.

  “Those are some serious flowers you’ve got there,” she says as we reach my desk. “New boyfriend? Wait.” She pauses with a look of false recollection. “New girlfriend.”

  “Neither,” I lie. And I’m glad I shoved the card into my purse because my reflex smile that seems to pop up whenever I think of Pilar is showing. “Just an apology from a friend.”

  “Geez, there must be a story there.” Her smile tells me she wants to hear more.

  Luckily, my office phone rings and saves me from further humiliation. I like Valerie, but not enough to even hint around about my sex life.

  *

  I make it to Pilar’s around eight thirty. She’s waiting for me in a black satin robe.

  Once we’re in the living room she says to me, “Do you need some time to wind down?” She wants to know if I need a few minutes to find my Suzy space. She wants me to leave Suzanne Kim at the door, but I’m fine. Seeing her and hearing her voice are enough for me to let certain trappings of adulthood slip away.

  I shake my head like the docile little girl she needs me to be. Pilar seems happy with my reaction. She leads me to her bedroom.

  “I picked up some dinner, but I wanted to relax with you first.” In her bathroom there’s a larger tub. It’s filled with water and bubbles. Large candles line the sink. I turn back to her, to say something like “Thank you” or “wow,” but she starts to undress me. I hold still as she unbuttons my blouse. She slowly gets me out of my pants.

  We get in the tub together and Pilar wraps me in her arms. Her legs shelter my thighs, and her breasts press against my back. This is exactly where I want to be.

  “How’s your nephew?” I ask. Talking is the only thing distracting me as her hands glide over my nipples.

  “My sister said he won’t stop talking, so that’s a good sign.”

  “May I ask what happened?”

  “You know those fixie kids who terrorize the city?” she says playfully. Everyone does. There’s a large underground culture of teens and twenty-somethings that ride fixed-gear bikes all over town. At first I was baffled by the phenomena. I don’t understand riding around L.A. in circles at night, but it really is something to see a hundred or so bikes coming down Wilshire Boulevard into Koreatown in wave after wave of strobing wheels and blinking lights. When they’re stopped and posted up in front of my building they seem like a nice-enough bunch, and they obey traffic laws better than most L.A. drivers. I know Pilar is only joking. They baffle a lot of the city, not terrorize it.

  She goes on. “Some drunk driver plowed through a group of them in Culver City.”

  I spin around as much as I can to face her. “A drunk driver? Who the fuck gets that wasted on a Monday night?”

  Her face grows stern and she lightly taps my lips. “Language, baby.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say as I shrink back a little. Her hand stroking down my back calms my anxiety, though.

  “It was some producer’s kid. He’s already offering to cover all medical bills, but my sister said she’s suing if his daughter doesn’t go to rehab. My nephew just wants to get back on his bike.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “A while. He took the brunt of the impact. His legs are pretty beat up.”

  “That really stinks. How many nieces and nephews do you have?”

  “Twelve. My brother has eight and sister has four.”

  “I bet they love you.”

  “I am a favorite aunt. What about you, baby? What’s your family like?”

  “I have a twin brother, Thomas. He’s my exact opposite, but I love him. There is a girlfriend, but no kids.”

  “And where is he now?”

  “The Big Apple. He’s a money guy. I think my parents were such hippies he felt he needed to go in the other direction. They run a pot dispensary up in the Bay Area.”

  Pilar laughs. Most people do. I just shrug. My parents are lovely people. Unconventional, but lovely. “I know. They love their pot. They love their kids, but they love their pot.”

  “That’s amazing. My family does a little bit of everything. Motorcycles, movies, food trucks, medicine, teaching. We’re all over the place.”

  “Sounds like a big family.”

  “It is.”

  “You’re worried about your nephew, aren’t you?”

  “I am, baby.”

  The position is awkward, but I hug her and she hugs me back.

  “You can talk to me about him, if you want,” I say quietly. She doesn’t reply, but she still holds me. “What’s his name?”

  “Felix,” she says, and then she sighs. “I just want to hold you.”

  This was something I learned a long time ago, not from Laurel, but from another sub. Sometimes our mistresses need more from us than our obedience. Sometimes they need our comfort, our support, and sometimes they need it in very specific ways. Laurel wasn’t like that. She never needed me unless she was in the mood to tie someone up. Or if she didn’t want to go to the movies alone. But she never needed
me to hold her. If my Mami wants to hold me, she can hold me all night.

  We stay in the bath a little longer. We don’t speak, but we kiss and we touch each other. After, she tells me there’s food. But I’m not really hungry. We get in her bed, and we kiss and touch some more until I fall asleep.

  At one, I wake up again and I’m starving. I don’t make it out of the bedroom before Pilar is out of bed as well. She puts me in one of her T-shirts. It’s too big and it smells like her bedroom. I love it.

  We eat rotisserie chicken standing up by the fridge. She asks me about work, and once I start, I’m rambling. She asks questions even though I’m throwing out so much information. She won’t remember all of the names or the things we do. It’s not like you can teach someone everything about digital marketing over chicken. But she’s listening to me and she’s asking me questions.

  Back in bed, I realize I left Frank at home. I’m fine because I’m with Pilar, but I hope he’s okay without me.

  *

  The next morning, Pilar comes to my room just as I finish getting dressed. She’s carrying a wooden paddle. She won’t look at me as she rotates the handle in her hand. I swallow and straighten my shoulders.

  “Last night in the tub, I said a bad word.” I come out with it because I remember immediately.

  “Yes, you did.”

  “And you told me I’m to watch my language.”

  “Do you know why?”

  Even though I have an idea, I don’t know the exact reason so I shake my head. She’s still not looking at me, but she sees.

  “When I take you out, your behavior reflects on me. When I have a little girl beside me who can’t mind her manners or watch her language, I look like I don’t care how people perceive you. I look like I don’t care about you.”

  “I understand.”

  “Drop your pants and bend over the bed.” I do as she asks, and as soon as I brace myself on the bed, I realize I’m shaking. I’m scared. Laurel blurred this strange line between punishment and her pleasure. The way she made me feel emotionally, especially as things started going south, I could never tell if I was being punished because I was doing something wrong or because she was beginning to hate me. I know Pilar doesn’t hate me. She’s talking to me and that’s big enough. She’s been perfectly clear why she’s doing what she’s about to do, but I’m still scared.