I wanted to be at home when Chrissy arrived to move in. I left the office, letting my secretary and personal assistant assume I had a private meeting.
As soon as I was home, I sent all of the staff away. The day was a balmy seventy-five degrees; I opened the doors to the beach, letting the salty air sweep into the kitchen and eating area. I sniffed the flowers on the countertop, making sure they were still fresh.
I ran my hands over the countertops and rearranged the couch cushions. I stopped myself before I could straighten the dining chairs. My housekeeping staff didn’t know the truth of my arrangement with Chrissy, but I told them my new girlfriend was moving in.
There was no reason for me to check up on their work — they were far better at keeping a house up than I would be, and they never let anything slide, especially not if guests were coming over. They had been intrigued to hear that a girlfriend was moving in, because I’d never had anyone over before Chrissy.
I paced through the courtyard, around the pool and through the flower beds. Chrissy was due to arrive at two p.m., which was just minutes away.
At eleven a.m., my driver had texted to say Chrissy wanted to visit her sister. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to ask my permission, or letting me know as a courtesy. She hadn’t moved in yet, so I didn’t expect her to check in with me. But it was a good sign that she was letting me know.
At exactly two p.m, my security guard knocked on the doorframe that led into the yard.
“Sir. Miss Evans is here.”
I was instantly alert.
John gave us both a polite nod and went back to the foyer.
“Hello Chrissy,” I said. As I expected, she looked beautiful. Although she looked a little tired, and a little less lively than last night. And she wasn’t wearing my clothes yet.
She wore a plain t-shirt and blue jeans. They were faded, but clean. The t-shirt hid her curves and made her look wholesome and innocent.
She looked cute, but I was ready for the day when she wore the clothes I had chosen for her.
“Hello.” She walked to stand next to me, but she didn’t say anything else. She simply stared out at the expanse of the ocean.
Her demeanor was one hundred percent different than last night.
Instead of being curious about the upcoming day, or even nervous about what we’d be doing, her expression was flat. She seemed withdrawn. What had happened in the hours since I’d seen her last?
Had I pushed her too far?
If I had, it was better to find that out now, before we took this any further.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. I’m good.” She grabbed the patio railing and leaned forward, still staring out at the ocean.
She was clearly not fine, and she wasn’t being truthful. “Chrissy, if this is going to work, then I need you to be fully here with me. I need you present, in body and in mind.”
She glanced at me. “I understand.”
A glance was better than nothing. Chrissy had just left the hospital; maybe she was worried about Bella. Maybe she’d feel better if I told her what I’d done for her sister. I hoped she’d be happy, and not feel like I was crossing a line.
“I’m having your sister transferred to the donor floor, where she will get excellent care. All the expenses related to her stay on that floor will be covered. Even if things don’t work out between us, with the trial, your sister will remain on the donor floor, receiving the best care, as long as she needs it. You will have no debt from that.”
Chrissy faced me. One of her hands still gripped the railing. Her mouth was open. Her eyes were wide.
“I don’t know what to say.” She closed her eyes briefly before staring into mine. “I don’t understand. You don’t know me. You don’t know Bella. Why would you do that?”
I exhaled in relief. She wasn’t angry, and didn’t think I’d overstepped.
For the second time in as many days, I found myself wanting to explain my reasons.
“I’m different than other men. I require different things. One of the things I love is having a submissive woman. I want to protect her and care for her. Which in this case is you. You are the submissive woman that I want to take care of. That includes making your life easier, and making sure the people you love are safe.”
She let go of the railing and wrapped her arms around herself. “Haven’t you met other women that could give you that?”
“No. The women I know socially may say they are interested. But at the end of the day, they have their own agenda. They want me because they think I can get them an invitation to the Oscars, or to the Super Bowl. If they’re wealthy enough, there’s nothing I can provide for them, and they rarely appreciate my gestures. And the women I’ve met who aren’t wealthy only want my money.”
“How is that different from me?”
“I approached you.” That made all the difference in the world to me.
“What about colleagues? Peers?”
“I don’t have any true peers at Boswell Industries. I am the CEO; everyone is my subordinate. But I’ve tried dating women in similar positions in their own companies.” It had not gone well. “The women who are my peers in the workforce might enjoy submission in the bedroom, but out of it, they’d never tolerate it. They do not want to be told what to eat, or what to wear.”
Chrissy was chewing on her lip, and her expression was one of curiosity now. I was glad to see that she was fully engaged with me now.
“How so?” she asked.
“For example, if we met in ten years, you’d have your degree, and you’d have passed the bar exam, and you would be practicing law. If you agreed to date me, you’d want a partner. But I’d still want a submissive. So if I told you I wanted you to wear a green dress and eat pasta for dinner, you’d be pretty ticked off. You’d tell me to get lost.”
She smiled. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“You would. You’d kick me out so fast my head would spin.” It had happened to me before. And it would have happened again, had I persisted. And yes, as Travis had pointed out, there were clubs that specialized in dominance and submission. But the one time I’d visited, the people there had all known each other. Their camaraderie and familiarity with each other left me feeling isolated and alone.
They’d treated their dominance and their submission as a game. As a role they could put on and take off. It wasn’t serious to them. It wasn’t necessary to their lives.
That was not the dynamic I had wanted.
“No one wants to be told what to do all the time. But that’s the only way I know to make this work. I need to know where I stand. I won’t end up like my —” I caught myself, realizing how close I was to mentioning my father.
Chrissy was staring at me with her eyebrows drawn together. She’d obviously heard me stop myself, but she was smart enough not to ask.
“From our limited time together, I feel like you might be that person for me.”
I’d said enough. Chrissy had opened up and chatted with me. I didn’t want to overwhelm her. I needed to give her some space.
Earlier, I had discreetly texted my housekeeper and let her know that I needed her back. I didn’t really need her help, but I thought Chrissy might feel better with a female presence in the house. When she arrived, I asked her to escort Chrissy to her room. I was willing to spend the evening alone. I had pushed Chrissy quite a bit, and I didn’t want to lose the progress we’d made.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “My housekeeper is going to escort you to your room. The chef’s number is in your phone. When you’re ready, let her know and she’ll serve you there.”
Chrissy thanked me, and then she was gone.
I was eager to engage with her, but I needed to remember how young she was, how inexperienced she was, and how much stress she was under with her sister’s illness.
