by Corgan, Sky
“I love my job. I love the people that I work with. I love the company that I work for. I don't want to work anywhere else,” my tone is clipped.
He slips his phone back into his pocket and arches an eyebrow at me. “You know that you could make more money at a different design firm. Environ Design is a pretty small fish. I doubt they pay you as much as the bigger firms would.”
My mouth falls open in disbelief. Is he insulting where I work now?
“If they're such a small fish, then why did you even contact them for a consultation?” I place my hands on my hips and tap my foot on the concrete, showing my displeasure.
“Because I like to support small business, Amy. It's as simple as that.” He puts on his sunglasses and stares out into the distance.
“Everything is simple to you, Lucian. Too simple.” Including my feelings.
“I'm a simple man.” He smiles, stepping off of the curb as soon as he sees his limo turning into the parking lot.
It ticks me off that he completely missed what I was getting at. Beyond that, he's far from simple. In fact, he's one of the most complicated people I've ever met.
“Ciao.” He waves at me over his shoulder before disappearing into the limo.
Every nerve inside of me is boiling with anger as I watch the limo pull away. He took care of business and then he ran. There was no warmth from him. No taste of the man he was when I spent the night with him. It's like that part of him was completely erased with the setting sun.
***
I'm glad that I don't have to go back to work after looking at furniture with Lucian because I'm emotionally wrecked. Derrick would probably get great satisfaction out of knowing that Lucian hurt me again. That's just the bitter part of me talking though. Derrick isn't like that. He can be spiteful, but I know that he'd comfort me if he knew that I was truly hurt.
I'm not hurt though, more like confused. I don't understand the way that Lucian is. He's an anomaly to me, and not in a good way. I want to believe that he really has some sort of feelings for me, but how he acts is contradictory.
If he cared about me, he wouldn't just fuck and run. If he wanted to pursue a relationship with me, he would have answered my texts. Almost everything points to our relationship just being professional and sexual, but there's a hopeful part of me that refuses to believe it.
I need to talk out my feelings, but I'm a bit apprehensive to approach Janice after her bad mood the other night. When I get home from work, she's in front of the television again. Briefly, I think about stopping to engage her in conversation, but instead, I go straight to my room to grab my cupcake pajamas and step into the shower.
The warm water feels soothing. I cry while I wash my hair, though I don't know why. Lucian didn't really say or do anything to hurt me. He was just distant. Always distant. Pull me in for sex. Push me away emotionally.
Janice and Derrick are right. He's bad for me. I'm just so addicted to the possibility that something might come of us. Just yesterday he let me in about how he acquired his house. The day before that, he told me about his family. I can't help but think that none of that might have happened though if I hadn't gone into his room and flipped over those pictures. If I hadn't done that, would I know any more about him than I did before. The sad answer is probably not.
I towel off my hair and then step into my pajamas, zipping them up at the front and hugging myself as I stare into the mirror. It's the first time I realize that I'm losing who I used to be. That girl in the mirror, that sweet girl who only ever wanted romance—she doesn't feel real anymore. Lucian is perverting me—making me want other things—making me enjoy them. Not want. I never wanted to have sex in the middle of the furniture store. I never wanted him to force me onto the bed and shove his cock inside of me. I never wanted to feel this way about a man who is so utterly unattainable.
The tears start falling again, and I quickly wipe them away. The girl in the mirror stares back at me, silently lecturing me. This isn't who you are. He's not who you need. Who cares if he's rich and gorgeous and amazing in bed. He's a complete asshole. You can't fix him. He probably doesn't even want to be fixed.
You need to move on. Find a sweet, romantic guy. Have a story book romance, get married, pop out a couple of kids, and live happily ever after. There will never be a happily ever after with Lucian. Just misery. Just pain.
I hug myself tighter, feeling the stubbornness inside of me well up. The impossible what ifs. What if he does want to change? What if I can fix him? What if I push him away and he really does have feelings for me?
There's nothing wrong with him. Janice's words echo in my head. If nothing is wrong with him though, does that mean that there's something wrong with me. Is it messed up that I want to be with him, that I keep trying to force him to be something that he's not? Just thinking about it makes me want to cry some more. I'm done crying though.
With a sigh, I pick my dirty clothes up off of the floor and open the bathroom door. Janice is on her way to her bedroom, and we nearly bump into each other. I gasp, accidentally dropping my skirt.
She picks it up, then notices my pajamas. Sympathy contorts her previously blank expression, but there's something else mixed in with it. Something I can't place.
“What did he do this time?” There's so much annoyance in her voice that it causes a pang in my heart.
“How do you know he did anything?” I practically rip my skirt out of her hand, scowling all the while.
She straightens herself and puts her hands on her hips. Then she gestures at my pajamas.
“I could have just had a bad day at work.” I turn to continue to my room.
“But you didn't, did you?” She follows, and the hard edges in her tone begin to soften as if she might actually be concerned.
“You don't want to hear me talk about it, so I won't.” I toss my dirty clothes in my laundry hamper and sit in front of my computer, trying to ignore the fact that she's standing in the doorway. I would have slammed the door in her face, but I don't want the tension between us to get any greater. The last thing I need right now is to fight about something stupid and lose her as a roommate.
“Amy.” She rests against the door frame. “That's not what I meant.”
“Well, it sure seemed like it.”
She swipes her tongue over her top lip before drawing her hand up to her face in frustration. “Look, he put you in a bad mood again, right? Don't sass me, just tell me if I'm right or not.”
I huff, turning to face her. “Alright. He put me in a bad mood. What of it?”
“This isn't the first time. It isn't the second time. And it won't be the last time.” The way she's holding her forehead suggests that it's taking everything in her to be patient with me. I'm not dense though. I know what she's getting at.
“This is my choice, Janice. I know it doesn't agree with you or Derrick, but...” I sigh. “Look, maybe you're both right. When I finish with his interior design project, he might kick me to the curb. I don't know. I just...” A plethora of emotions flood through me. It feels like my hope of eventually being with Lucian is quickly being siphoned away by Janice's presence. The way she looks at me when I talk about Lucian. The way that Derrick looks at me when I talk about Lucian. “I just like him. Okay? I can't...I don't even understand it myself. This isn't like me at all.” I slump forward and cradle my head in my arms on the desk.
Seconds later, I hear the soft padding of footsteps and then feel Janice's hand on my back rubbing it soothingly. “I get his appeal, Amy. I really do. The guy is fucking gorgeous. I can't even imagine what it's like to sleep with him.”
“It's amazing,” I grumble, my thoughts drifting back to that night in Lucian's bedroom when he made love to me. It's a good sign that that's what my soul really needs. Not these crazy compulsive sexcapades in random places where I feel nothing from him at all.
“If you want to keep seeing him, I'm not going to argue with you. And I'll be here when it all comes crumbling down and yo
u need my support. It's just hard to watch you being depressed like this.” She kneels down beside me, leaning over to peek under my arms.
I exhale deeply and sit up, twisting my body to face her. “You're a good friend.”
“So are you.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “And you don't deserve this.”
I smile weakly at her before threading my fingers through my hair. “I just wish I knew what to do. Wish I had some definite answer about how he really feels about me.”
“Have you asked him?”
“No,” I smirk. It seems like the simplest of things, but yet it's so damn difficult.
“Maybe you should start there.” She straightens herself to go sit on my bed.
“I don't want him to think that I'm desperate though or trying to force him into anything.” I shake my head, knowing that I'm just making excuses.
“You are trying to force him into something though. He just might not know it.”
“I think he knows it at this point. I mean, I've been pretty clear about the fact that this isn't something I normally do.” I screw my face.
“Well, I've got an idea about how you can find out how serious he is, but you're probably not going to like it.” Her eyes widen as if she's about to suggest the scariest thing in the world.
“What?” I ask apprehensively.
“Go back to Flesh and ask for him.”
“What will that prove?” I quirk an eyebrow.
A mischievous grin plays across her lips. “Go back to Flesh. Fill out a new form. Use a different name. Mark off sex on your list and see if he still takes you as a client.”
“It would be bad enough if I could just get him as a Dom,” I mumble. The thought that Lucian might be pleasuring other women in any way makes me feel sick. “What about when the guy at the front desk runs my credit card? What if he asks about the different name?”
“Just tell him that you want to remain anonymous to your Dom. It's not an unreasonable request. I'm sure a lot of clients do it.”
While I highly doubt that, it does seem like a perfectly allowable thing to do.
The thought of going to Flesh to see if Lucian is sleeping with other women makes my stomach turn, mostly because I'm pretty sure that he is. There's a part of me that has enjoyed being blissfully ignorant. That's the part of me that has continued to pine for him. If I go to Flesh and see him there, maybe my feelings for him will be squashed out.
“I don't know, Janice. That would seem really shady.”
“Do you want to know or do you not want to know?” Her expression indicates that the answer is obvious.
“There have to be better ways of finding out than...spying on him.”
“It's not spying on him if you go in as a paying client.”
“I suppose not.” I wrap my arms around myself, trying to stifle down the nasty feeling inside of me that's insisting she's right. “Still, I don't want to do it.”
“Well.” She stands, obviously tired of trying to talk sense into me. “I think you know what you have to do. Either ask him straight out or go to Flesh and find out for yourself. And even if you do ask, I would still go to Flesh just to make sure. Fetishes run deep, and a guy doesn't give up being a Dom for just anyone.” She casts a sideways glance at me as she walks out of the room.
The way she suggested that I'm 'just anyone' to Lucian hurts. He told me about his wife and son and parents. I doubt he would have opened up to 'just anyone'. He could have avoided the topic. Then I would have left and he never would have seen me again. Clearly, he didn't want that. That has to mean something.
With a sigh, I immerse myself in surfing the internet for several hours before I go to bed. I need a distraction. Any distraction. Of course, that only works when I'm doing something. The second that I crawl under the covers, my mind is back on Lucian Reddick and all that Janice said.
Should I go to Flesh? It seems like such a childish thing to do. Like I'm an angry girlfriend trying to catch him cheating. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt though. I want to wait for some type of sign. Maybe I'll just try to hold on until his project is over. That will be the test as to whether or not he has legitimate feelings for me—if he wants to see me after our business is concluded. Who knows how long that will be though? His project has already taken an exceedingly long amount of time. We've only just purchased the furniture for his bedroom and the guest bedroom. There's still the rest of the house to go. Judging by how slowly we've made progress, it could take another week or two before his project is finished. I'm not sure that my heart can handle much more push and pull without breaking completely. I feel like I've already emotionally stretched myself to my limits. I want off of this rollercoaster ride of ups and downs, highs and lows.
There's only one way. Well, two ways, technically. Ask and take the chance that he could be lying, or go to Flesh and find out the truth. If he's sleeping with other women, it means that he's not really interested in me.
That thought is incredibly painful. Too painful. A large part of me doesn't want to know the truth because logic tells me that he's not as invested as I've led myself to believe. I'm terrified of getting hurt again. And so I decide to do the naive thing. I'll wait until his project is over and see where we stand after that.
CHAPTER THREE
It seemed like a good idea at the time, waiting for the project to end. I was sure it would go without a hitch, that things would progress at the same pace that they had been. There are only two more stores to visit. Even if we only visit one a week, that means I'll have my answer in two weeks.
Work is excruciatingly boring, and the tension hasn't let up between Derrick and I. Tyra has caught onto it, the lingering distance between us. She stops by my desk one day to casually discuss it though I know she's more concerned with how it's going to affect the project—if it's affecting it at all.
“What's up with you and Derrick?” She nods over at his desk, nonchalantly fidgeting with the petals of a flower pen that's sitting in my pen holder. My eyes fall to it, and I have to fight back a frown.
Derrick gave me the blue daisy pen as a welcoming gift shortly after I started working at Environ Design. I've used it until it ran out of ink, but I still keep it as a memento of those first few months when I was getting my feet wet and Derrick was patiently showing me the ropes. God, I miss talking to him.
I'm not sure how much I should tell Tyra, or if I should tell her anything at all. It's obvious that things haven't been good with me and Derrick since that day we were caught arguing outside. I want to smooth things over with him, but it just seems like it's too soon. Maybe I should wait until the Reddick project is over for that too.
“We had a personal conflict of interest.” It's vague but the truth.
“Hopefully something that will be settled soon.” She lets her long, blood-red nails fall from the petals of the flower pen and taps them on my desk, making a clicking sound that sends a shiver down my spine and draws my attention to her hand. Always superbly manicured. Her fingers are long and dainty, and she seems to have a knack for picking out the perfect colors of nail polish to accent her chocolate skin. She's a beautiful woman.
I shrug. “There's no way of knowing, honestly. We haven't talked about things since it happened.”
“You should.” She glances over at Derrick's desk where he's pretending to work on the layout of the furniture in Derrick's bedroom. It's a job that would usually only take a few minutes, but he knows that Tyra has a good view of his computer from where she's standing.
“Maybe next week.” I offer her a weak smile.
“Well, do it soon. I'm sure it's stressful working together when there's so much tension between the two of you.”
“Yes, ma'am.” I nod before she walks away. As soon as her back is turned, I frown, then glance at Derrick. Nothing would please me more than to smooth things over with him. Hopefully, he'll be ready to talk soon.
My days are spent waiting for Lucian to contact me. When Friday hits w
ith no correspondence from him, I decide to send him a casual text message asking how he's doing. Not surprisingly, he doesn't respond.
On Saturday, I watch Janice prance around the apartment in a new leather outfit. Sometimes it makes me sick how flawlessly attractive she is. She's wearing a tight black corset that clasps at the front with thigh-high stockings and knee-high lace-up leather boots. The bust is conical with a swirling pattern that caps off at her nipples. It reminds me of something that Madonna would wear though not so dramatic. Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in soft ringlets. Her eye makeup is dark and her lips are cherry-red. I pray to God that Lucian doesn't see her like this.
“I'm gonna hop on Sir's dick tonight.” She wiggles her butt as she dances around the living room.
I can't help but grin. “You go get you some.”
“I plan on it. It just sucks that I have to pay for it. Mayhaps I'll suggest a more permanent arrangement for us.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Surely, he would want a gorgeous submissive like me.” Janice presses a dainty fingertip to her lips and pouts. It makes her look absolutely stunning and completely sexy. If I did something like that, I'd just look like an idiot.
“You never know,” I sigh, not wanting to be a downer but also wanting to speak my mind. “I have a feeling that all of the Doms who work at Flesh have commitment issues.”
“Pfft. Not everyone is Blue Eyes.”
“I suppose not.” I shrug.
“Speaking of which, how are things going with him?” She sits down on the sofa beside me.
“You actually want to know?” I smirk.
“Not really, but what are friends for.” She wrinkles her nose.
I roll my eyes, knowing that she's not really being sincere. Janice cares, even if she doesn't want to admit it.
“I haven't heard from him since he banged me in the furniture store.” My shoulders slump a bit.
“He banged you in a furniture store?” Janice's eyes go wide and her mouth forms an O.