Chapter 76

Kathleen

"Dawn Lovett is going to be the biggest pain in the ass about it," Eve says, going over the list we've made on this lazy afternoon. I appreciate her taking one of her precious days off from school to stop by my place. Not to mention it's raining outside, and it's hell on her hair.

While the rain patters on the window, we draw up a list of the Dommes in our circle who will cause a stink after my debut. We're also going over my debut as a sub, which is scheduled to happen this Saturday night. There's nothing formal about it. Not like we called up the club and said, "Hey, so, I've got this girlfriend I wanna parade around…" Ira and I decided that it had to be that night, although she may or may not have made sure there would be a spot on stage for us during the busiest hour. Yikes.

Which means going over the details, because this is a delicate affair. Nobody will see it coming, which is both good and bad for me.

"Make sure you don't wear something too trashy." Eve downs the last of her tea before I pour her another cup. "Also, please don't tell me she's going to humiliate you."

"No, she would never." Don't get me wrong – about half the shows at Midnight focus on humiliation, because that's what a lot of the local subs like. Odds are good that when you're wandering around on a busy weekend night, you're seeing trash talk – and God knows what else. The kind of things that not only does Ira have no interest in as a Domme, but me neither.

I've told Eve about that night. I went easy on Ira like she went easy on me my first time. Although she tried to be all tough and tell me she didn't need any aftercare, well… let's be honest. Her version of aftercare that night was climbing on top of me in bed until she was so worn out that she fell asleep two seconds afterward. Also! Do note that she did not say no to my cuddling and platitudes.

Maybe one day I'll be rubbing lotion into her skin and kissing away the booboos I gave her. Probably not anytime soon, but for now, I'm satisfied.

She did it. She tried it. She came to me and said she wanted me enough to acknowledge that part of who I am. Ira Mathison will never sub as often as I want but knowing that she could warms the freezing cackles of my deadened heart.

I also may be beyond smitten in love and driving Eve nuts.

"Stop grinning like a dumbass. This is serious. Dawn Lovett donates to your charities."

"So, me getting spanked once in a while means she's not going to help out low-income schools anymore? That would be petty as hell."

"Dawn Lovett is petty."

"Don't have to tell me twice. And no, I'm not wearing anything trashy. We've already picked out my outfit. It's basically my Domme outfit but with different makeup and a collar."

"All right. You guys are going for the theatrics."

"Hardly."

"Think about what you're doing."

"I've been thinking about that for weeks now. Why do you think I went off to Europe?"

"Fair enough."

Sinéad weaves in and out of my feet as we sit at my table by the window. Pathetic mewls hit the air until Eve picks her up. "Cats look good on you," I say. "Thought about collecting them? I hear Jamie Joy has more to hand out. Our cats could be siblings."

"Cute. You've picked up jokes from your girlfriend."

"She is my girlfriend, isn't she?"

Eve looks at me, exasperated.

"I swear I'm not one of those women."

The look gets worse.

Okay, so I'm being insufferable. I like to think I've earned the right after this long. I'm on the far side of twenty and have never been in a relationship as serious as this. I don't count the semi-permanent partners I've had over the years. We never reached a point where we were talking about business and living relationships. Meanwhile, Ira's got crap all over my bathroom sink I constantly have to organize, and I've got crap all over her bathroom sink that… I'm constantly organizing.

We're not moving in together… yet. On that front, we're being practical. Give it a few months, probably until the end of my lease, and then decide from there. I might downgrade to a studio apartment farther out to save some money because there will be days I need to get away from her dominant personality, or at least to have a guaranteed escape where Ira's forced to talk to a doorman to come up and see me.

We are most definitely not talking about marriage. Hilariously, I think Ira would be more relaxed about the idea than me. I'm not the type to sit here and doodle out names like, "Kathleen Mathison," or "Kathleen Allen-Mathison." I'm more the type to cackle at the thought of, "Ira Allen" or "Ira Allen-Mathison."

My name sounds better in the front. Don't you think so? Of course it does.

I'm sitting here, smiling like an idiot while Eve mumbles about insufferable couples, when the doorbell rings.

Um, excuse me. I didn't have anyone shown up after they buzzed in. So what's the deal? I warily glance at Eve before going to the door. Nobody's there.

Nobody, but there is the city scandal rag lying at my feet.

"What the…" I don't subscribe to this. Nevertheless, I pick it up, reading the fresh headline that makes my breath still in my chest.

"HOLLYWOOD SWEETHEART STEPHANIE MAY LIED ABOUT EVERYTHING."

"Oh my God," I hear Eve behind me snort. "Bring that shit in here."

The front page article is outrageous. From the first word, Stephanie May is slammed with a pile of receipts that claim she not only lied about her age – by a decade! – but that she was previously married to a man fifty years her senior and had one kid by him. A son. That she hasn't talked to since she bailed on him five years ago.

Both Eve and I whistle.

There isn't a kind word about her. Between the lies and the shitty, neglectful mom angle, it's safe to say that Stephanie is having one of the worst days of her life. She's reportedly been dropped by half her promotional contracts and a big director who was scouting her has now decided to go with another up-and-coming actress.

Ouch. Inside, though, I'm howling in laughter.

This must be Carolyn's work. My hunch that she hired a private investigator must have been a good one because this is the kind of dirt only a real pro outside of the tabloids could have dug up. Stephanie's career is ruined. Donovan Mathison is mentioned once as her current love interest, with the paper further slamming Stephanie for moving on to the father of the person she was previously involved with.

"For more on this matter, turn to Page 6."

Before Eve can finish reading the smack about Stephanie, I flip the pages until I'm…

I'm looking at pictures of Ira and me.

"Uh-oh."

Eve ain't shitting. Uh-oh is right.

"Romance between two powerful families? A credible source states that heir Ira Mathison and Kathleen Allen, a local rich philanthropist, are getting serious. The couple has been seen enjoying time alone at high-profile restaurants and, most recently, at the opening ball for the reopened The Ace Hotel. But that's not all! Rumor also has it that these two share more in common than money and work projects. Both Mathison and Allen are known dominant personalities in the local kink scene. So who's serving who? A photo too salacious to print suggests that it's Ms. Allen who is making some changes to her personal life."

Eve yanks the paper from my hands and tosses it into the garbage.

We're silent. My gut says to call Ira, but my gut also really wants to throw up.