I’m crossing the floor of the lobby, thinking about the ongoing groundworks of D-site and trying to
decide whether to tackle the east or the west side first. I’m not truly paying attention to my
surroundings.
“Morning, Kirstie.”
“Good morning Mr Alexanders.”
*Jab elevator panel*
Lay land drains first to the east side?
Enable access via the west?
Or wait for the circular route to connect from the bridge?
Where’s that damn lift?
…
…
Reverse mental gears….
Kirstie…
Too much make-up…
Swollen eyes…
Trying not to be too obvious about it, I turn to take a better look at her. Even from the rear…
… slumping in her seat…
Not like her…
The elevator bings, but I ignore it, strolling back to the desk.
“Kirstie, is everything alright?”
“I'm fine, Mr Alexanders. Thank you for asking.”
She's painted on her business face, but as she speaks, she doesn’t look at me, keeping her eyes
turned down. One thing I like about Kirstie is that she looks you in the eye…
Usually…
I take her chin in thumb and forefinger. “I expect you to look at me when I speak, Ms Jamieson...” But I
cut myself short. Under the makeup she's caked on, her eyes are puffy.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m fine.”
“No, you're not. You look terrible. Is it something I can help with?”
“No sir, it's... personal…”
I wait, giving her a silence to fill.
A flush rises up her neck, vanishing under the makeup line before it hits her face. “My sister, Erin is
falling out with Ben....”
Not Ben again….
He really doesn't have the hang of people…
Why would that upset Kirstie so much?
“... so I have her crying on my shoulder and Ryan...” She stalls.
“Yes? Ryan…?”
Staring down at her desktop, “Nothing.”
I wait a little longer, but no more is forthcoming.
Not my business if she doesn’t want to share it…
“Would you like to go home? I'll find a stand-in for you if you do.”
“No, sir. I'd rather be at work.”
“As you wish.”
*****
Half an hour later, Francis pops her head around my office door. “James, I have Kirstie on from
downstairs. She's asking if you could spare her a few minutes sometime today? She sounds upset.”
Aaahhh…
“She can come up now if she wants to. Can you make coffee for two, please.”
“Of course, James.” Francis fixes a gimlet eye on me.
Trying to decide if I’m the cause of Kirstie’s upset?
*****
In less than five minutes, there is a timid tap at my door. I left it standing open, but she knocks anyway.
“Come in, Kirstie.”
She enters, still with her face down. “Thank you for making the time to see me, Mr Alexanders.”
Francis brings the coffee, but as she leaves, I close the door behind her. “Kirstie, we’re friends. And I
have the feeling this is a ‘James’ moment, not a ‘Mr Alexanders’ moment.”
Head hanging, she nods, winding her fingers together.
What now?
I’m no fucking good at this sort of thing…
“Why don’t you sit down. Start at the beginning, whatever it is.” I gesture to the chair opposite mine
over my desk…
Nope…
Wrong…
… then correct myself, instead waving her across to the low seating by the coffee table, overlooking the
Cityscape.
She sits, sniffs and gulps, then hoots into a handkerchief. I sit opposite her, pour the coffee, try to make
myself busy while she gets her act together.
Should I call Charlotte?
… but Kirstie starts speaking…
“The thing is... You're a Dom, Charlotte's Dom and... and there’s Michael of course. You always seem
so happy together. And, well, you've been doing this for years...”
As she knows…
Her eyes slant up to mine...
How we met…
A threesome at the Club…
“... And you know the rules. How it works. You really get it.”
“Get it?”
“I mean, you really understand the Dom/sub relationship.”
I begin to see where this might be going.
Ryan…
She dries up again. I try a gentle prompt. “So?”
“Ryan... He's new to this. He... He thinks he's completely in charge and that I should...”
“Kirstie, you are not required to do anything you are unwilling to; that you haven't agreed to. That's not
the rules of the game. If something upsets you, or if you find it distasteful… you’re the sub. You set the
limits.”
“I know that and you know that, but Ryan... Could you maybe talk to him? Explain things?”
“You want me to interfere in the relationship between a Dom and his sub? That's quite an ask, Kirstie.”
Miserably, she nods. “I know.”
“Can you tell me what he is requiring that upsets you?”
She swallows, squirming. “It's...” But her words dry up.
Crucified with embarrassment.
“Are we discussing everyday life here, Kirstie? Or are we in sexual territory?”
And she starts crying again, tears running furrows through what’s left of her make-up.
Ah, fuck….
Weeping women…
Francis?
No…
I lean forward, elbows on knees. “Come on Kirstie. Considering how you and I met, there can't be too
many taboos in what we can say to each other.”
Scarlet-faced and sweating, she says, “He gets off on having sex in public...”
“So the clubs are just right for him. He can be as exhibitionist as he…”
“No, I mean really in public. Parking lots, elevators. Places we could be caught. He's careful, but...”
“So… if he's taking you too far, you simply safe-word.”
She looks up and her eyes red-rimmed, meet mine. “He gets angry...”
Shit…
“Kirstie, a safe word that can't be used isn't a safe word.“
“I know that, but he doesn't understand. He thinks… James, you and Charlotte have been together for
a while. Was there ever a time, maybe in your early days when…?” Her hand rises to her mouth as
though cutting her own question short. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “I shouldn’t have…”
Do I answer that?
Is it appropriate?
“Yes, there was.” Her eyes shift to mine. “There was a time… I knew all the rules too, but I… I let my
passions run away with me and I over-reacted. Very badly.”
Owl-eyed, “What happened?”
“She left me.”
“But you got her back.”
“Demonstrably. But I needed Michael’s help too to achieve it. And it only happened after I…” My throat
tightens.
No more…
I lean back in my seat, cup in hand, take a swallow. I like Kirstie. She’s a delightful girl.
And she doesn’t deserve an incompetent Dom.
“Aside from this, are you happy with Ryan? You get on together?”
“Oh yes. He's.. he's wonderful.” She nods vigorously, and the pearl dangling at her neck trembles with
the movement.
His collar on her…
“And he...”
… Oh… God….
Is there a non-embarrassing way of asking?
No...
Spit it out…
“... Is he good in bed? You get along okay sexually?”
And laughter fills her puffed-up eyes. “James, he's incandescent.”
Despite myself, I smile at her enthusiasm.
Perhaps I should know more?
Or maybe not.
“I'm pleased to hear it. Let me think about it, Kirstie. I have a meeting with Ryan later this week about
some work he's doing for us...”
“He has the contract then?” A smile ghosts over her lips.
Damn. Let the cat out of the bag…
“He does, but you don't tell him.” I level a finger at her. “That's my job.”
“Yes, sir.” Her smile builds a bit.
She’s pleased for him…
She loves him…
“After we’ve had the main meeting, I’ll have a word with him. See if I can set him on the right path.”
“What will you say?”
I scrape a hand over my head. “I have no idea.” I cast her a look. “People rarely ask me to mediate. It’s
not considered one of my talents…”
And she, finally, bursts into a real laugh.
“… Anyway, I'll try to talk with him on your behalf. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough. Thank you, James.”
“Now, blow your nose, fix your make-up and go back to your desk.”
“Yes, Mr Alexanders. “
*****
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