Chapter 15

Rachel was at breaking point.

They were one day out from the first ever Littles' Market by the Sea, and everything seemed to be spiraling out of control.

On the day itself, she and Cat were down to oscillate between overseeing the hall, and overseeing reception, and she was already worried that there'd be so many people that she'd get overwhelmed.

They'd sold out, which was wonderful—of course—but also terrifying. What if it all went horribly wrong and everyone hated it?

She took a deep breath and thought about her vendors, thought about Tel and their security team, thought about Emma and Cat and Isla, who were her biggest fans. It was very unlikely to go wrong. Very unlikely at all.

And then her phone chimed, and as she looked at it, she saw a ton of messages come spiraling in from her friends. There was a link in the article attached to Cat's message and she clicked on that first.

It was from one of the local newspapers, talking about the event. Somehow they'd gotten their wires crossed, and seemed to think that it was just a standard kink event—thank goodness, very few vanillas understood a Caretaker/Little dynamic—but they'd interviewed someone from a ‘gender critical' group. Rachel's heart sank. Gender critical usually meant TERF—trans exclusionary radical feminists, aka feminists who didn't believe that trans women were women—and that was unlikely to be great news for the events.

It was not great news.

It was fucking awful news.

The woman and her group were declaring their intention to picket the hall, to ‘highlight women's liberties and rights', as if trans people didn't have better things to do with their time than try and undermine women.

When Isla let herself into the flat later that evening, Rachel was still on a call with Tel and Cat, trying to find different ways round the problem.

"If they have to walk past a load of transphobes, just to enter the event, they probably won't turn up," said Tel.

"And who can blame them," added Cat. "I don't exactly relish having verbal abuse yelled at me tomorrow, and I'm not trans."

Isla walked to stand behind where Rachel was sat at her desk, and raised an eyebrow. "Can I interject here?" she said, ducking down so that the others could see her via the camera.

Rachel turned to look at her; interruptions were hardly what they needed right now.

"Go ahead," said Cat. "It's not like we have many other plans, right now."

"I work with celebrities fairly regularly, and when they attend an event, they usually enter and exit through a different door to the usual one. Tel, is there a fire exit that comes out the other side of the building?"

"I mean, there is," they said. "But it's hardly a welcoming sight."

"Well, why don't we start by giving that entrance to all of our vendors and security staff. If the front looks locked and no one is coming or going from there, maybe they'll think it's a victory and leave."

"It's certainly one solution," said Rach. It seemed like an unlikely one, but at this point she was willing to try anything. "I'd suggest emailing the ticket holders as well, but I'm fairly certain that's how they know the details of the event."

"Well, let's try that," said Isla, "And I'll talk to some of my contacts about getting an opaque walkway for the entrance, so that people can be dropped straight off and go in without having to look at the protesters."

The three on Rachel's screen looked impressed.

"She works with celebrities," mock-whispered Rachel. "Not that she'll tell me who."

"NDAs are a thing, babygirl," said Isla with a grin, and then moved into the other room to make a phone call.

"I'm going to email all ticket holders," said Cat. "Or see if Emma can do so, and inform them of this development. Even if our footfall decreases, it's more important that we let people know."

"And I'll call our trans and nonbinary vendors, and email everyone else," said Rachel. "To let them know about the change of entrance and drop off for them."

"Great idea," said Tel, "And I think that's pretty much all we can do at this stage."

Four of the vendors were trans and/or nonbinary, and though Sage in particular sounded nervous, they were all determined still to come.

"There's no way that I'm going to let anyone fuck me out of money," said Nicole, who was running the onesies stand. "The best revenge is to make as much money as possible, and thank those transphobic shits for the free publicity."

When she finished the final call, to Wyn, who sounded like the sweetest human ever, Rach slumped back in her chair, and let out a big sigh.

Isla came over, and sat at her feet.

"Fancy a foot massage, babygirl?"

Rachel shook her head silently, not trusting herself to speak. All that hard work, all that time and energy, and it could all be ruined because a handful of angry people just didn't like trans people. It was madness, utter madness, and utterly infuriating.

Isla sat there, and waited.

She liked that about Isla, that she didn't immediately take over and decide what was best. The other woman had made a suggestion to the call's group, but she wouldn't have kicked off if they'd rejected it; and she'd asked now, not just assumed that Rachel wanted to be touched.

Although, Rachel realized with sudden clarity, she really did like the idea of being touched. Of being cuddled, if she was being specific.

"I want to go to bed, Daddy," she said, and finally, after weeks of being so busy and grown- up and organized that she could only be Big, her Little side was coming out. "I don't want grown up cuddles, please, just Daddy cuddles for her princess."

Isla stood, and helped Rachel up. "Babygirl, I can always give you Daddy cuddles. You're my princess, and if you're a tired princess, then you get to have Daddy waiting on you hand and foot, like a dedicated courtier."

That made Rachel giggle. Thank goodness. No more horrible outside world. For the next couple of hours, it was just her and Daddy Isla.

She held out her hand and Isla took it, and squeezed reassuringly. "Would you like a Peter Rabbit book as well?"

Tilting her head to one side, Rachel considered the question. "I don't think so, Daddy. But best have one anyways, just in cases I wants it."

"That seems very sensible," said Isla. "Come on you, time for Daddy-princess cuddles."