I feel like I’m being unfaithful to Claudia and Mischa. Abigail and I have met in secret twice now.
Her hands are wrapped around a cup of hot cocoa, and mine cradle a Chai tea.
She scoops a spoonful of whipped cream into her mouth and moans. “Okay… so you don’t have to tell me anything,” she says, “but just know that I’m dying of curiosity. The next time you see me, I might be in a coffin. Imagine my obituary: ‘Abigail Cooper, died of intense curiosity at the young age of thirty-seven.’”
I smile. “Actually, I want to tell you everything.”
A huge grin practically splits her face in two.
I tell her all about playtime, and I don’t spare on the details. If Mr. Boss Man could hear me, I’d certainly be in for a hard spanking.
“Wow. Who knew you were so naughty, little Gretchen. You look so innocent,” she says. “It’s obviously all an act.”
I laugh. “He’s the one who makes me naughty. I didn’t even know I liked that kind of stuff.”
She sips her cocoa. “It sounds fun. It’s typical Girl-Daddy stuff.”
“What stuff?” I ask, confused.
“Girl-Daddy stuff,” she says again. “It’s what they call it in the BDSM community.”
“What?”
She smiles. “He’s the Daddy, and you’re his little girl. He coddles you, pleases you, calls you sweetie, or good girl, you know?”
It does sound familiar.
“He’s the one in control, the Boss Man, and he dominates, but also takes care of you, makes sure you’re enjoying the experience, makes sure he pleases you.”
I’m speechless.
“Daddies are controlling, but very giving. They’re all about pleasuring their woman. I mean… you and Boss Man have the whole Boss-Secretary thing going, but it’s essentially the same thing.”
I smile. “How do you know all this?”
“I was in a relationship like that, just before Daniel,” she tells me. “It was fun. He called me his sweet girl, and I called him Daddy. He loved to spank me when I was bad.”
I shake my head, speechless.
“Lord knows I have Daddy issues with everything I went through when I was young,” she goes on. “And you probably do too.”
I think about my absent father. He left when I was twelve and I barely ever saw him after that. I haven’t spoken to him in over two years, not since Ethan’s birth.
I’d never thought about the dynamic I share with Weston, but she might definitely be on to something. Perhaps I secretly crave being cared for. In my every-day life, I’m the one who needs to take care of Ethan and handle everything. And I do it all by myself. It’s exhausting. And with Weston, I can just let go and be taken care of.
“Well, I don’t know about all that,” I say, “but we’re certainly having fun.”
“Just be careful,” she warns me. “Men like him usually have a lot of baggage.”
When I arrive at my desk on Thursday, I’m surprised to see another bouquet, a dozen white roses. I inhale their scent, giddy. I know they’re from him of course, and I’m thankful for his kindness. But it’s all getting kind of silly.
I walk down the small hall and knock lightly on his wall before I round the corner of his office.
“Come in,” he calls out.
He’s leaned back in his chair, feet up on his desk. He’s flipping through a magazine. He takes his feet off his desk and puts down the magazine when I approach.
“Thanks for the flowers. You shouldn’t have.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“But this is getting kind of silly, Weston,” I say. “I know it was in the agreement that you could get me gifts but—”
“They’re just flowers, Grasshopper.” He stands and walks toward me. My whole body turns on every time he’s within five feet of me. I love it, but I also kind of hate it. No man has ever had this effect on me. Not even Donovan.
He takes my hand. “They were offered in apology. I’m not quite sure what I’m apologizing for, but last time we played, I upset you.”
I shake my head. “No, you didn’t.”
His brows furrow. “Don’t lie to me. I study people, Gretchen, and I’m very good at reading them. I knew you wanted me the first time I looked into your eyes, and I also know I upset you. You need to tell me what the matter is because I don’t want any secrets between us.”
I blow out a breath. I’m clearly not getting out of this.