by Chloe Cox
“It’s not important,” Adra said. “We’re not in touch.”
“That bad?”
“That bad,” Adra said, her tone clipped. Actually, she couldn’t believe how much it still affected her. She’d learned a hard lesson with Derrick Duvall, and recently she’d spent a lot of time cursing the fact that she’d learned that lesson before she’d ever met Ford. It would have been…
No. It would have ended just as badly for her and Ford. And that would have been so, so much worse, because Ford was…well, Ford was Ford. There was no one else like him. And Adra already couldn’t take the fact that Ford looked at her like she was a stranger, like he’d seen a side of her that he just didn’t like. She couldn’t blame him, but if she felt that bad now, she couldn’t imagine what would have happened if she’d let it go on any further. She’d have been utterly destroyed when it ended badly, as it inevitably would have.
She shuddered.
“Yeah, well, you know that’s not what I’m really asking about,” Lola said.
“I know,” Adra said. “Believe me, I know. But it’s not my favorite subject at the moment. We’re working together, it’s not a big deal, it’s not—”
“That’s actually one of the reasons we came down from Sonoma,” Lola said softly. “We have something we need to talk to you two about.”
That shut Adra up for about a second. Then the words came tumbling out of her.
“Are you ok? Is the baby ok? Is Roman ok?”
Lola looked up, for once actually surprised. “What? We’re fine, you crazy lady. My God, who does the worrying when you’re not around?”
“I outsource.”
Lola smiled. “Here, help me up.”
“Where are we going?” Adra asked, pulling Lola out of the deep couch cushion. They managed to uncouch her on the second try.
“Remind me not to sit there,” Lola said. “Not safe for my dignity.”
“Please,” Adra said. “You could command armies while wearing a pink bunny suit. You can handle this couch.”
“Not if it swallows me whole,” Lola laughed and pulled Adra toward the stairs.
The stairs that led to Ford’s office.
Adra sighed. Well. They were supposed to work together.
“Lola, just give me a heads up,” she whispered as they came in sight of the door. “Am I going to hate this, whatever it is? Like, how bad are we talking here? Soul-crushing—like having to work with the guy you maybe almost had a thing with and still haven’t gotten over and his new girlfriend bad? Or just, you know, normal stressful for working with that guy you haven’t totally gotten over?”
Oh God. Adra hadn’t even thought about Ford getting a new girlfriend until she’d said the words out loud. The idea made her instantly nauseous.
Lola paused, her hand on the doorknob to Ford’s office, the door already open an inch.
“Honestly?” she said, her eyes soft. “It could go either way.”
“Fantastic,” Adra muttered.
Lola took Adra’s hand in her own and gave it a warm squeeze. “You’ll be fine,” she said.
Adra almost believed her. Until she heard Ford’s voice on the other side of the door.
“Of course it was a goddamn mistake,” Ford said to someone, presumably Roman. He sounded angry. Adra didn’t need to hear the rest to know what he was talking about, and it broke her heart a little bit all over again.
Lola cursed, and banged on the already open door.
“Gentlemen?” she said.
Adra forced herself through the door and into Ford’s office. There were three people already there: some guy in a Hollywood suit that Adra didn’t immediately know, though he looked kind of familiar; Roman Casta, the owner of the New York club; and Ford.
Jesus, Ford.
He was standing on the opposite side of his desk, leaning forward on those ridiculous arms, muscles wrapping around like steel cables. He was wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a tank top, a hoodie draped over the back of his chair—he must have been on a run. This was one of the rare times Adra got to see him like this now that they didn’t spend weekends hanging out anymore. She had to remind herself not to drool. And for the first time in a long time, she saw an emotion on his face—surprise? Regret? Then frustration, and anger.
He was looking right at her.
She was the mistake.
It killed her to see what he thought of her now, but maybe that was good. Maybe it was good to kill all hope that they could recover their friendship. Maybe that’s what she needed to move on.
Adra decided not to ask what they were talking about. She was only slightly masochistic, something Ford already knew.
“Hi Roman,” she said, giving the big man a quick peck on the cheek. “You guys should have told me you were in California.”
“We did,” Roman smiled down at her. “Eventually.”
Adra looked back at Lola to find the woman actually blushing, and couldn’t help but laugh. Roman and Lola had been friends for years, but once they figured out they’d both been secretly in love with each other for nearly all of that time, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off of each other. And now that Adra had firsthand experience in how much time and energy it took to run a sex club, she figured they’d probably been dying to have one last getaway before the baby came.
Even now, Roman looked at Lola like everything else in the world was just a shadow. What would that be like? To have the man you loved look at you like that?
Adra couldn’t help it. She looked at Ford.
He was still looking at her.
“Adra,” Ford said.
She may have blinked. She definitely caught her breath.
“Roman wants us to consult on a film,” Ford said. He was leaning on his fists, his knuckles white. He only did that when something was really bothering him.
Dazed, Adra said, “Wait, what?”
The man in the Hollywood suit stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “That’s my cue. We met at the Golden Globes last year, Adra. Roger Corvis.”
Oh God, Adra thought. She recognized the name. It had been everywhere lately.
“You’re a producer,” she said weakly. His hand felt cold.
“Yes, I am,” Corvis grinned. “Working on a big one.”
Oh please, no.
“They want to film it here. At the club. Starting this week.” Ford was still looking directly at her. “I think it’s a mistake.”
Adra sat down heavily in one of Ford’s plush chairs. “They want to film it here?”
“And we want you and Ford to consult on production,” Roman added. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the film—Submit and Surrender?”
“Oh, yeah,” Adra said. She was feeling light headed. “Can’t miss it. Billboards everywhere.”
“Then you understand why it’s so important that we’re involved in the process,” Roman said, coolly confident. “We want to make sure the BDSM lifestyle is well represented. Roger’s agreed that you and Ford will be invaluable assets to the actors while they’re filming.”
“I think you know the lead actor already,” Corvis said. “Didn’t you used to date Derrick Duvall?”
Adra watched Ford stiffen, visible even from across the room, and closed her eyes.
“Yup,” she said. “Derrick's my ex.”
Her last relationship. Her first and only D/s romance. The guy who’d proved to her that romance wasn’t something she could have. And part of the reason she’d had to tell Ford she couldn’t be with him.
“Shit,” she heard Lola mutter. Apparently she was the only one, because Corvis was smiling like a lunatic when Adra finally opened her eyes.
“Great! That’ll add some realism to the set,” he said. “Listen, I have to run to a production meeting, but Roman’s got all the details and the schedule and everything. I am so excited to work with you both. And Adra, you are just as lovely as I remember,” he said, sliding on his sunglasses.
Leave it
to a movie producer to be manically cheerful about something as insane as asking a submissive to consult on a movie in which her ex-Dom was starring.
Corvis clapped his hands together, pointed at Adra and Ford, and said, “I will see you two on Friday.”
And then he was gone.
Ford hadn’t moved.
Like, at all. He was like a statue. A beautiful, frozen statue. And Adra couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
chapter 2
“Adra, I am so, so sorry,” Lola said for about the millionth time. “If we had known that Derrick freaking Duvall was your ex, I just…”
“But you didn’t,” Adra said. “And even if you had, it wouldn’t really have changed anything. Roman had a point. We do have an interest in making sure this movie is done right.”
“The publicity is already insane.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve been avoiding that giant wall of Derrick's face on Sunset for weeks. Thank God they’re keeping the location secret.”
Lola cringed. “Did I tell you how sorry I am?”
“Yes,” Adra smiled. “But I will accept further apologies in chocolate form.”
“Consider it done,” Lola said, digging in her giant purse. In about a second she had several chocolate-containing goodies for Adra to choose from. “What? I’m pregnant, I have a supply.”
Adra laughed and flopped down on the couch next to Lola. It was good to have her friend nearby again, even if it was under crazy circumstances. Recently her life had been kind of chaotic, as evidenced by the state of her apartment.
“What happened here, by the way?” Lola said, raising one eyebrow. “Natural disaster?”
“Hush,” Adra said, tossing a pillow. She looked around at the open-plan living room and sighed. Somehow everything managed to be out of place. Plus she kept finding dirty dishes in hidden locations. “I know, I feel like I should just…burn it all to the ground and start over fresh.”
“Was it a very specific earthquake?” Lola ventured. “An unfortunate misprint on a frat party flyer?”
“No, it was three boys under the age of eight,” Adra said, throwing her only remaining pillow at Lola’s head. “My nephews came to stay for a while, while my brother and his wife…worked through some stuff. I’m not totally clear on what’s going on there, but Charlie seemed to need the space, so I offered.”
Even thinking about her brother Charlie’s situation made Adra uncomfortable and sad. Sometimes it felt like Adra was more invested in Charlie’s marriage to Nicole than Charlie himself was, which Adra knew was spectacularly unfair to her brother, and was just old issues popping up. It was just that since Charlie had gotten married and had kids, he’d been like living proof that not all Davises had to ruin their shot at having a family. And considering how she and Charlie had grown up, that was maybe more important to Adra than it should have been.
Lola took another appraising look at the apartment.
“So this is what I have to look forward to, huh?” she said. “I can handle it. No kid can out-mess me. Roman, on the other hand…”
“Yeah, he doesn’t strike me as a casual mess kinda guy.”
“He is not,” Lola said. Then she raised an eyebrow and gave a wicked smile. “And he is easily provoked into providing much needed discipline when I ‘accidentally’ mess up his stuff. Which I guess will have to be restricted to the bedroom once this little one arrives.”
“Boy or girl, by the way?”
“Surprise.” Lola smiled. “You know, I really enjoyed those accidental messes.”
“I bet you did,” Adra smiled. She hadn’t seen Lola this happy in…well, ever, really. In fact, the last time she’d seen Lola, she was happily Domme-ing some guy back in New York as one of the few true switches that Adra knew.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Adra said, leaning forward. “You’re a switch right? But I cannot imagine Roman as anything other than a Dom. Do you ever…?”
Lola popped a hazelnut chocolate in her mouth and smiled a mysterious smile. “We are not here to talk about my love life, lady,” she said.
“Oh, come on!”
“Nope,” Lola shook her head. “Why, you going to tell me all about Ford?”
That shut Adra right up.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Lola said. “So what’s the deal with Derrick? This going to be manageable?”
“I will handle it, Lola,” Adra said. “You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves.”
“Who’s got kid gloves? I don’t know if I could handle it if I were in your shoes. And I know Roman couldn’t handle it.”
“Big, tough Roman?”
“He would lose his mind,” Lola smiled. “He’d tough it out, but he’d suffer. It’s not too late to change the plans, you know. We did kind of spring this on you.”
“Thanks, but you know it is too late,” Adra said. “And besides, I knew he was going to be in the movie, so this was kind of inevitable. At some point Club Volare was going to be pulled into the Submit and Surrender craziness. The first major film about a BDSM relationship? Please, it’s going to be huge. I couldn’t avoid it forever.”
Lola winced. “One of those ‘avoid forever if at all possible’ situations, huh? I’d heard he was a Dom, I just didn’t know anything else.”
“I’m over it, really. It’s just…”
Adra hesitated.
“Just what?”
“It was a terrible relationship, and he didn’t treat me very well, and…he was still the one to end it.”
“Ugh. So he thinks he has the upper hand.”
“Yeah,” Adra said. “And sometimes I do, too. He doesn’t, I swear. I am…ugh, the idea of being anywhere near him gives me hives, but…”
“He got the last word?”
More than that, it felt like Derrick had defined everything about their relationship and their break up. He’d been a bad Dom—Adra knew that now. Controlling in a bad way, and selfish. But for a while Adra had thought he was different. He was the guy to convince her that not all relationships ended terribly, that not all men leave. She’d opened up to him completely. Derrick had known so much about her, about her family, about her fears, about everything, and then when he left her it was like he did it in the most destructive way possible.
He’d just thrown her away like so much refuse and shacked up with someone else. Adra still got mad when she thought about coming home and finding all of his stuff just gone. She’d cried for three days straight, and she’d never been more certain that love was a sucker’s game as when she’d had to clean up that lonely house.
So Derrick was the first and last person she’d allowed herself to need since she was a kid. And she reminded herself every day what a stupid mistake that had been.
“Yeah,” Adra said slowly. “He got the last word, and it bugs me. Is that petty of me?”
“Please. That would drive me crazy,” Lola said.
Adra sighed. “Is there anything more annoying?”
“Not on this planet, no. Maybe, maybe, there’s some undiscovered insomniac shrieking bat species deep in the Amazon rainforest or something, but barring a major scientific discovery, I’d say no, there is nothing more annoying than a bad ex who undeservedly thinks you’re not over him,” Lola said. She looked sidelong at Adra and grimaced. “Except possibly one you have to work with.”
Adra started to giggle. The situation really did suck. “Except for that.”
“Did I mention how sorry I was?”
“About a million times.”
Lola got very quiet. She said, “So are you going to finally tell me about Ford?”
Adra fell back against the back of the couch, and exhaled loudly. “Yeah. Um. Ford. Can I get back to you on that?”
“Well, at least you’ll have the intense awkwardness of coaching your ex-Dom on BDSM scenes to distract you from the awkwardness of working with Ford.”
“I wish I had another pillow to throw at you.”
“I deserve it,” Lola
said, leaning back against the other end of the couch and propping her feet up on Adra’s legs. “Are you ever going to tell me about it?”
For once, Adra didn’t quite know what to say. She didn’t find it difficult to talk about her past, necessarily, but Ford…Ford felt so raw. She could barely think about it, let alone find the words to talk about it.
“Maybe when I finally stop wishing that things were different,” she finally said.
“Don’t wait too long, honey,” Lola said.
Adra looked up. It didn’t seem like Lola was just talking about opening up anymore.
Lola raised a sympathetic eyebrow. “You’ll kick yourself for it later.”
Adra looked down and fumbled with her phone for a distraction, suddenly uncomfortable under the glare of Lola’s insights. There were a lot of things that Adra might regret, but that didn’t always mean she had the power to change them. Case in point: the texts waiting for her on her phone.
They were from Derrick Duvall. A phone number she hadn’t deleted just so she’d know to screen his calls if one ever came. It never had, until now.
“I hear we’re going to be working together again,” it said. “It will be good to see you, Adra.”
How exactly was she supposed to react to that? She’d had no contact with Derrick since he’d literally disappeared from her life. Was she just supposed to pretend this was normal?
Adra hated doing that, which was ironic, given her job as an agent. But, she was a professional. She could do the job. She could always do the job. And she could remind herself that even though Derrick Duvall had confirmed what she’d always known—that trusting men was a losing proposition—he did it because he was an ass, not because of anything Adra had done. He’d probably left a dozen women high and dry in the intervening years. Perhaps not admirably, that made her feel better.
And then she read the next text.
“Just an FYI, Ellen’s going to drop by the set the first day. Don’t make it awkward.”