That was much harder, especially because his lip jutted a fraction of an inch. Swiveling in my chair, I explained again, “I’m meeting a friend today, Gabriel. I haven’t seen her in almost a year and I’m really looking forward to catching up. Besides, I thought you had an 11:00 am tee-time today with Drayton.”
“Your memory is frighteningly sharp, Emma. To think you remembered him from your brief introduction at the benefit. I cancelled so I could spend time with you.”
“You didn’t need to cancel it, Gabriel.”
“Well, I disagree. I wanted to spend my lunchtime with you, especially after yesterday.”
“That’s so thoughtful of you. I’m sorry—”
“No, no. It’s okay, baby. It’s important for you to have friends,” Gabriel sighed while pushing off my desk. “Rick is going to be quite put out with me this afternoon.”
“Why? Are you planning on being mean and unfair to your assistant?”
“No. He’s going to have to be mean and unfair to me because I won’t be able to concentrate on the million and one tasks he has planned for me this afternoon. That man is worse than a drill sergeant when riled up.” Gabriel let out a self-pitying sigh before squaring his shoulders. “Have fun, Emma. It’ll be good for you to get out of your tiny cubicle before you expire of suffocation.”
“It’s not tiny. It’s regulation size,” I reminded him as he dropped a kiss on the top of my head.
“Will you miss me?”
“More than anything.”
My answer satisfied him and apparently took the sting out of my temporary defection. Gabriel preened and smugly stated, “Good!” before sauntering out of my work space.
Now it was lunch time. Thankfully, the agreed-upon meeting place was only ten minutes away from my building. I was going to need every spare moment I could get.
I immediately spotted the ravishing brunette as I entered the near-empty restaurant. She stood up and waved me over. Dressed to the nines in a knee-length black dress, stockings, heels, elegant jewelry, and signature crimson lipstick, Gretchen Smith was a vision. She never failed to impress me with her artful mastery of our gender’s finer qualities. Gretchen met me in front of the table. “Emma. How are you, lovely?”
A wispy cloud of expensive perfume teased my nose. We hugged and squeezed hands. “I wish I could say this was purely a social call. Unfortunately, I’m not bearing any gifts because I’m not doing so well, Gretchen. Thank you so much for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Anytime, anytime.” We sat down at the oversized booth. The darkened corner suggested secrets were about to be told and discretion a must. The suggestion was right. Gretchen’s instinct for confession was uncanny and I never thanked her more for possessing it than now.
Gretchen had been my roommate for four years at the university. She was a quiet, self-contained girl who didn’t talk much. That didn’t necessarily make her a good fit for Greek Life or an active college social life. It did, however, make her a perfect roommate for me.
Initially because she left our dorm room every Friday night only to return Sunday morning.
Mutual respect developed first. Cordiality colored our interactions as we found the rhythm of our co-habitation. I’m not sure who asked first, but it came apparent we’d agreed to room together the next year. Time slid by. We attended a few campus events together before falling into a monthly movie date. True friendship came our junior year when I accidentally found out about Gretchen’s other life.
Now the knowledge of this different world was going to be my way into Gabriel and Gretchen was going to be my happy tour guide.
Currently facing the exquisite creature who had the power to make grown men grovel, I found the speaking would be a bit more difficult than I anticipated. I wasn’t afraid that Gretchen would judge anything I’d tell her.
I was afraid that she couldn’t help me.
In short order, we ordered our meals. After the waiter brought our drinks, Gretchen got down to business. “Emma, I take it this must be extremely important for you to contact me like this.”
“It is. Very.”
“How can I help?”
I grimaced, struggling to find the right words to my dilemma while playing with my straw. “I’m seeing someone.”
“That’s good to hear. He must be special to you.”
Gretchen knew my difficulties with men better than anyone in recent history. She’d understand what this step must signify. “He is. Very.” I inhaled deeply and pushed my drink away. “He’s the one I talked about. You know—back in school.”
I expected to see surprise in her eyes. Instead, deep pleasure penetrated her dark gaze. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” I smiled and ducked my head a bit, feeling a little shy.
“It isn’t often we’re given another chance to make things right with our past.”
“That’s true.” I smiled wider. “I knew you’d understand.”
“Of course.” She shrugged elegantly. “Is he good to you? Are you happy with him?”
Happy was a loaded word. I considered the question. “It’s been interesting to say the least. It’s impossible to be bored with him.”
I trusted Gretchen as much as I would’ve trusted a sister, but even so I still found it difficult to say what needed to be said. I fiddled with my watch and plotted out my next words.
“How have you been, Gretchen?”
“Wonderful. Thank you for asking.”
“Is business doing well?”
“Very. The recession has tripled my client base. I’ve had to expand.”
“Really? That’s wonderful!”
“Stressful times call for release.” Before I could reply, Gretchen commanded gently, “I appreciate your politeness, but it’s not necessary. So tell me the reason you’re here, Emma.” When I took a hurried sip from my drink, Gretchen cocked her head and studied me from beneath perfectly curled lashes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so nervous. This must be bad.”
“It’s not bad…but it’s not necessarily good. At least, not yet.”
Gretchen nodded. Her patient gaze didn’t coerce me. Eerily it reminded me of Gabriel’s. Eventually I’d spill my guts—all they had to do was wait. Was it supreme confidence or something extra that set them apart from someone like me?
“I never told you his name and I’m not sure if I’m ready to now.”
Gretchen grasped the strings of my conversation and knitted them into the proper shape. “He’s a man of position and power. Discretion is absolute.”
“Yes.” At least it was in regards to our topic of conversation. I couldn’t take the chance other ears would catch our word wisps.
“Is he seeing you openly?”
I nodded, curious to see where her questions were going to lead me. “We just started, but we’re not lying low.”
“Good. I take it he’s not married?” Gretchen’s non-judgmental tone eased the path for open communication.
“No, thank God.” Images of Embry rose up. It had been a close thing. Would Gabriel still have pursued me if she wore his ring? Would I have turned him away? A mental shudder went through me. I was fiercely glad I didn’t have to find out what either of us was capable of.
“Then what’s the problem, lovely? Your path is free and clear which is more than I can say for half the city. This calls for a celebration, not a little face full of mourning.”
“He’s a very successful man of business and with that comes certain…ah…needs.” My cheeks remained pale. I thanked them for not betraying my discomfort.
“I see.” Gretchen turned to me fully. Her poise inspired mine. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“A little.”
“It’s perfectly normal. Men of power, unless they’re sociopaths, are susceptible to the same stresses and fears as the rest of us. Losing control allows them to regroup, to put down the weight of the world for a bit. It doesn’t make them any less masculine, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“No, you misunderstand. Actually, he’s the opposite. He’s like you.”
Gretchen’s slim brow lifted slightly. “I see.” She paused and I dangled. My back tingled uncomfortably. “And how do you feel about that?”
“I’m afraid. Not that he’ll hurt me, but that I can’t be what he needs or wants. He’s afraid too,” I confessed softly, doing my best to reign in the rise of terror that threatened to overwhelm me. Despite the fact that he swore otherwise, instinct warned me that Gabriel would walk away if we couldn’t come to terms.
Stupid beautiful man.
“How do you know he’s afraid?”
“Because he told me.”
Gretchen considered my words. “He must feel very close to you to be so open.”
I remained silent and waited for her to continue.
“Do you want to be his submissive, Emma?”
“I want to be with him.”
“Yes, but you didn’t answer the question.”
The similarities between Gretchen and Gabriel grew in number. Either that or I avoided answering personal questions out of long-standing habit. I needed to be as open as I could be if I wanted her help. I tried again. It was excruciating to purposely admit my ignorance.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what that would mean for me. How far would it go, how much would he need of me to be satisfied?”
Specifically, how extreme was Gabriel’s dominance? Was it rough sex and a bit of spanking or would it be TPE—Total Power Exchange? The idea of being under Gabriel’s complete control, of having no will that wasn’t his…I can’t deny a thrill pulse shot through me, but I knew me. There was no way I’d be able to tolerate that for long.
I was too stubborn, too entrenched with controlling my life. It would drive me insane to have no say in what happened to me 24/7.
And if that’s what Gabriel needed…no wonder he was trying to lead me away from that side of his life.
“Have you asked him specifically what he would require?”
“Not yet. Our relationship just started a few days ago.”
“And he already shared this part of himself with you?”
“Not exactly.”
Interest tilted her chin closer to me. “I sense there’s a story here.”
“More than you know. His ex let me in on his secret. She did it in the hopes that I’d leave him and he’d go back to her.”
“Ah. Spiteful to the core and a tactician to boot.”
“Apparently so.” My fear that Embry wasn’t too far off the mark in regards to my ability to satisfy Gabriel broke through my calm exterior. Gretchen caught the misery in my expression. Her voice gentled.
“Why do you think there might be a problem in what you can do for your man?”
Although the nearest diner was five tables away, I lowered my voice to a near-whisper. “I don’t know if I can be submissive. I’m not quick to follow orders and I’ve been too independent all my life to start being a weak, spineless woman now. I’m not a doormat, you know?”