Contrary to appearances, Marcie and I are not "socialites." We don't have multiple fancy dresses and tuxedoes in our closet. We do not have a limo service on speed dial for the local movie premieres or the massively over-priced dinners corporate giants may throw. That doesn't mean we avoid going out dancing occasionally or hanging out with people. It just means when we mention the status of our company, we're not those type of people.
Up to a few years ago, my business partner was the one who could do that. That was before he married his wife and had their son. Shannon is a steadying influence on him, and his son keeps him too busy to be social as much as before. Aubrey, my assistant, has her hands full with her husband's family obligations. So, we were not the elite of the city our office was in.
However, it didn't mean we were bereft of invites. One such invite was from Pierre. Pierre, for those who have followed my story, is a jeweler. He's also the one who introduced me into the lifestyle that I dabbled in both with my late wife and Marcie. He was more of a friend than just a business guy to me. So, when he invited Marcie and me to dinner for his anniversary, it was a no-brainer. We were headed to a place near where his shop was in Marcie's car. Hers was the nicer car because it was a sedan compared to my SUV. As I drove, she started asking me questions.
"How long have they been married?" she asked.
"Not sure."
"Does she know about his submissives?"
"She does."
"Do you think he's over the last one yet?" she asked.
I looked at her quickly.
"I have no idea."
"Some friend you are," she retorted.
I started having thoughts in my head of trying to justify myself, but figured I didn't want to appear cross when we arrived. It was a few more exits before I felt her arm along mine.
"I'm sorry, Leo," she said.
"For what?" I asked her.
"Because I know you are a good friend of his. And that it is better sometimes to allow folks to grieve the way they are used to. I was being a brat."
I smiled.
