I remember the day of his interview well. He sat calmly opposite me, long legs extended, his hands clasped in his lap. He exuded a cool arrogance that I was immediately attracted to. He was well dressed, quite handsome. When I started to ask him questions, his answers were short and to the point, his eyes fixed on my face. Oh those eyes. They sparkled with such cheekiness, such promise; they smiled along with his mouth. I was curious why he had sought me out.
"Are you married?"
"No."
I had glanced at his hands. No ring. That was 3 months ago, and until dinner recently, I had fully believed him.
Enzo's had become a regular Friday habit for me some time ago. I had arrived 5 minutes late, and on the way I had received a text from Adrienne telling me that she was also behind schedule. I was seated promptly and ordered a cocktail. The restaurant bustled with warmth and noise, people chatting and laughing, the aromas from the kitchen spilling into the room and instantly making my mouth water. I scanned the crowd, sipping my drink. The moment my eyes fell on him my body seized, a wave of panic spreading through every part of me. Fuck. My gaze lingered for confirmation; he was seated at a table with a group of people, his back to me, his arm wrapped around a woman. I rarely ran into clients on my down time, and when I had in the past, it never went well. I raised my menu as a shield and cussed at the appetizers. Just then Adrienne arrived, her smile quickly vanishing, her pretty face echoing the worry plastered on my own.
"What's wrong?"
"Over there." I nodded quietly towards them. "The blue shirt. A client."
She discreetly peeked to her right, just long enough to see. "Closest to us? The wife is pretty..."
I peer over the top of my menu, and she's right; a gold band glistens on his left hand, his arm resting on the redhead's shoulder while they chat with their company. I'm stunned into silence, and I quickly decide it's time to find another restaurant. I leave money on the table for my drink, and quietly slip out the back entrance unnoticed with Adrienne in tow.
I remember feeling a mixture of emotions when I returned home that night, none of them being the standard fare. I felt betrayed, and rightly so, but I felt it on a more personal level. The relationships I had with my clients were based on trust, and how could I trust him if he had lied from the beginning? Deep in the pit of my stomach, jealousy raged on. It was the first time I had ever felt anything remotely like that towards someone I had a working relationship with. Throughout the months, our meetings had become more personal, our bond stronger. I enjoyed his company, and for the first time in a very long time, I honestly looked forward to our sessions. Now that all the cards were on the table, and everything I knew had vanished, I was livid. I had to decide on how to handle the situation, and I had already kept him waiting 20 minutes. I locked the door to my office and made my way downstairs, my heels clicking on the hard cement, the noise bouncing down the hall. My fingertips felt on fire, my corset feeling too tight. I paused to steady myself, and breathing in, I opened the dungeon door.
The sight before me was always enough to calm jangled nerves and to put my mind and body at ease. The expanse of the room was dimly lit, plush carpet covering the floor. The walls were adorned with warm flames flickering atop sconces, the crystals droplets sparkling in the half light. From the mahogany beams hung an assortment of metal hooks, chains and pulleys, ropes hanging from the ceiling in various places. To my left lay an assortment of benches, each varying in size and width. To my right the walls were covered with floggers, whips, different sized canes and paddles. I smiled as my gaze lingered on the center of the room.
