Rainie scowled. “Who else wants to knock the backstabbing, buttheaded bimbo named Chelsey into the next county?”
Sally’s hand shot up.
And they all followed suit.
The Masters at the bar had returned to talking. Perfect. This was the time they’d been waiting for. Valerie pulled in a breath and rose. “All right, people. Let’s get our show on the road.”
“Yes!” Sally bounced to her feet. “Bar team, with me.”
Gabi, Beth, and Kim followed her.
Valerie pointed at Rainie and Andrea. “Projector team, prepare for action.”
Grinning, Rainie saluted. The two women opened the bag sitting on the bondage table and pulled out the projector and laptop.
Valerie picked up the microphone and tried to relax. This wasn’t any different than lecturing at the university, right?
Wrong. Students didn’t carry whips and floggers hooked to their belts.
Outside Z’s office, she punched in the code for the sound system—thank you, Jessica—killed the music, and selected the button marked Announcement chimes.
The three melodic notes sounded once, then again, alerting the members to gather at the bar. People around the room started to move. Scenes that could be ended easily would stop.
On the left end of the bar, Linda slid off her barstool so Kim could use it to climb onto the bar top. At the other end, Kari rose to give Sally the same access.
Even as Sally and Kim pulled down the chains that dangled from a rafter above the bar, Josie set the long white sheet on the bar top. The two grabbed the sheet, secured each end to chains, and pulled the chains so the sheet rose into the air.
Still on the ground, Gabi and Beth fastened the bottom corners of the sheet to the embedded anchors in the bar top.
Valerie grinned. There was their display screen, nice and tight, hanging above the center of the oval bar.
Around the bar, the Masters watched, eyes narrowed. But neither Master Z nor the Colonel had moved. The conspirators had counted on the Doms being too curious to put a halt to everything.
Microphone in hand, she moved toward the bar so she could see it better.
Rainie gave her a thumbs-up. The projector was ready.
Her turn.
“Members of the Shadowlands.” She decreased the mic volume slightly to keep the sound contained to the area around the bar and not disturb the scenes. “Many of you have heard the rumors about the Colonel. Before we start… Did you realize the people who started the rumors are good buddies with the previous manager?”
Even as the crowd near the bar grew, people reacted to what she said with either frowns or swearing.
Seeing movement, she froze.
Dogget and Knuckles, a muscled brutish friend of Barry’s had spotted her with the mic and were heading straight for her.
Spit, now what?
Ghost noticed and—Master Z put his hand on Ghost’s arm, obviously keeping him there.
“Relax, pet.” On her left, Saxon patted her shoulder.
Ben took up a position on her right and grinned down at her. “Anne wanted to see where you’re going with this.”
In an uncanny choreography, the two men crossed their arms over their muscular chests.
She had guards.
Knuckles and Dogget stopped, then faded into the still-growing crowd.
Okay then. One calming breath later, she spoke into the mic. “Usually rumors should simply be ignored, but since this kind of slander was deliberately set up to affect your trust in the Shadowlands manager as well as in the owner, a response seemed appropriate. The ones peddling their lies say Ghost ignored a submissive’s hard limits and drove her to attempt suicide.”
There were some shocked sounds. Perhaps not everyone had heard the gossip. Far too many heads nodded.
“We went straight to the source to get the truth for you. The submissive’s name is Faylee—and this is what she has to say.”
Valerie pointed to Andrea and Rainie.
The projector lit up, and on the white sheet over the bar, the video played.
Faylee stood in front of a wall of bookcases in what appeared to be an office. She was probably in her thirties, brown hair cut in a bob, wearing a lacey blue blouse and dark pants. She was slightly underweight but appeared healthy.
Her voice was a bit harsh and high-pitched. “I have no idea how to do this, but here goes. I’d always planned to apologize to Ghost if the opportunity arose, but this sure isn’t how I planned to do it. Jesus Christ, don’t you idiots realize what kind of a fantastic Dom you scored for your club?”
A low voice said something, the words undecipherable, and Faylee sighed. “Right, right. Sorry.”