How Cassie Got Her Grind Back (41 page)

“That’s the one. Looks as if her date didn’t work out. Would you like to meet her?” He hoped she’d say yes, not only because he wanted Cassie to get to know a little about Victoria and that side of his lifestyle but also because he could tell Victoria wasn’t comfortable sitting alone. Because of her schedule, she probably didn’t get out often enough to be able to relax alone in a nightclub setting.

“She looks uncomfortable. Why don’t you invite her to join us?” Cassie urged, and he grinned, realizing he wasn’t the only one who could read Victoria’s body language.

“To be on the safe side, when we get back to the table, I’ll text her.”

“Okay. She looks ready to flee.”

The song ended, and once back at the table, Samson texted Victoria after explaining to Ivan.

She looked down at her phone, and he grinned as her posture straightened. Her fingers tapped out a fast reply.

“Hello, Sir. How are you this evening?”
No shorthand or abbreviations.

“I am sitting with my brother at a table about fifty feet behind you. A special woman is with me. She’d like to meet you, in a club capacity, but only if you’re willing. I saw your date leave. Would you be willing to join us?”
To describe her as his girlfriend felt weak. Cassie had been his girlfriend in high school. She was so much more now.

Victoria craned her neck and smiled when she spotted him as he waved, and then she tapped out a brief reply.
“I would be happy to join you, Sir.”
She picked up her drink and made a beeline to their table through the crowd.

As if sensing Cassie might have mixed feelings, Victoria stopped next to an empty chair on the opposite side of the table, careful to not get to close to him and said, “Hello, Sir.” She then smiled and nodded to both Ivan and Cassie. “Sir. Ma’am.” If Victoria ever found a Dom she could love, she’d be an ideal submissive.

Samson introduced Ivan and Cassie to her, and once the formalities were out of the way and Ivan had helped her into a seat, Samson said, “Were you on a date, Victoria?”

“Yes, Sir. He’s a colleague. We’ve been trying to get together for a while, but his schedule is like mine. He was called out on an emergency consult just now.”

“I’m sorry that happened. I was worried he’d bolted on you.”

“You’re very thoughtful, Sir. He was just as disappointed as I was. Unfortunately, in our business, a personal life takes a backseat to life-and-death situations.”

“I understand and can relate. It’s not necessary for you to observe Dom/sub formality if you’d rather not in a public setting.”

Victoria grinned and shook her head. “Actually, I find it comforting, if you want to know the truth, Sir. Vanilla nightclub settings give me the willies, especially if I’m alone. I don’t feel like that at Hazelle House among people I know. My date was completely vanilla. Otherwise, I would probably be there right now. It’s a wonderful coincidence you were here tonight. You mentioned your companion wanted to meet me?”

“Yes.” Samson gestured to Cassie. “Cassie visited the club, along with Ivan, several weekends ago.”

“I was there last weekend, and Mona told me.”

“You were there?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She lifted one hand in reassurance. “Only to relax and observe, Sir. I’m fine, really. May I, Sir?” She glanced at Cassie and Ivan.

“You may.”

Victoria gave Cassie her full attention, and her smile reached her eyes, full of compassion. “Mona and Shae told me what happened with Jillian the weekend you visited the club. I’m sorry your first experience there involved such an ugly altercation. I’ve never met Jillian before, but I have a lot of respect for Master Hector and Juno, and I trust Mona and Shae. I hope you’ll return to the club and see what it’s like on a calmer night. You must have quite a few questions, and I’d be happy to answer them if I can.”

Cassie had studied Victoria and paid attention to their conversation up to that point. She didn’t look away as she quietly asked, “Have you always been a masochist?”

Victoria looked down and to her right as she nodded, speaking from her heart. “I believe so, although it wasn’t a conscious choice to seek pain until I came to understand that side of myself while I was in medical school. I thought there was something wrong with me until a visiting professor spoke about it in a lecture.”

“What triggers your need for pain?” Cassie asked and then put her hands to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I feel as if I’m being too personal.”

Victoria shook her head. “It’s important for you to understand. I can tell you’re very important to Sir, and I want to satisfy any concerns you have about my association with him.”

“Do you love him?” Cassie blurted out.

Victoria paused, took a breath, and looked down and to the right again. “When you were in school, did you ever have a teacher who wasn’t just a favorite, they actually changed your life in a tangible way and made it better? Maybe something they said or some encouragement they gave you made a permanent impact on your landscape.”

Cassie nodded slowly. “I did. One of my band instructors offered a guitar elective. He helped me to understand how the passion with which
I
played affected the listener emotionally, that it wasn’t something I could learn. I had been born with it, and it was vital for me to share it.”

A memory came to Samson from many years ago. She’d been so excited the day she’d shared with him what the teacher had said, and he’d experienced a flash of jealousy directed at the teacher. Was that how she felt about his relationship with Victoria? If it was, then he could understand even better her need for answers.

Victoria said, “Any teacher can teach, but the ones who resonate with you are the ones you can honestly say you love. It’s not filial love, or worshipful love, and it’s certainly not erotic, although I do think Samson is a very attractive man. It’s the love for a capable Master who understands what’s needed and pushes a sub to the limit but not beyond it. I’m not his slave, and he’s not my Master, but I do revere him in that way. And I’m talking too much and probably only confusing you, aren’t I?”

Cassie shook her head and slid her hand across the table, which Victoria accepted. “I understand you perfectly. Is Samson the only sadist you’ll work with?”

Victoria hesitated for a moment and then shrugged. “There are a couple of other sadists I trust at Hazelle House. My need for pain is motivated by stress and made acute by the inability to control every surgical outcome. I can do everything conceivable to save an at-risk infant, or his or her mother, but even when I do everything right, I can’t control the eventual result. When I can’t fix a problem, or tragedy happens on my table, under my scalpel, it’s especially crushing. Samson gives those emotions an outlet because I think he understands just how far to push me before pulling back. And because he knows, I don’t need to be concerned about permanent injury when I’m cuffed by him and under his care.” She lifted her priceless hands as if demonstrating what she meant.

Victoria glanced at him and then returned her gaze to Cassie. “See? He knows how catastrophic any injury to me would be. You can see it in his eyes. You would always be welcome at our play sessions if observing would help you.”

“My presence wouldn’t hinder you…getting what you need?”

“I’m usually oblivious to all else within a few minutes of starting.”

“What about afterward? Does he hold you or something?”

Samson heard the inner conflict in her voice and knew she worried about the intimacy involved but kept quiet, hoping Victoria could help her to understand.

“With a committed Dom and submissive, that’s a vital part of building a lasting bond. Samson is an excellent sadist, but you’ve known him for many years, right?”

“Off and on, yes,” Cassie replied.

“Then you know for yourself he may look scary and dominating on the outside but he has a warm, caring core. That’s part of why I trust him. I’m in subspace by the time he’s done, but I’m not the only one who reaches an altered state. There’s a flip side to subspace, which you could call Dom-space. In our arrangement, I know after he’s done, he likes to hold me to reassure himself I’m okay and that I’ve gotten what I need. On my end, I reciprocate by allowing that, even though it’s not necessarily what I need. All I need is a chance for my emotions to settle and enjoy the sensation of the stress draining away. Too much coddling and conversation distracts from enjoying that feeling.” She stopped and grinned at Samson. “You’re an excellent cuddler, Sir. No offense.”

“None taken, Victoria.” He’d known that about her early on, so it was no big revelation.

Her full attention back on Cassie, Victoria said, “But…if you’re uncomfortable with me calling on Samson, I would understand.”

“How hard would it be to find someone you could connect with as well as you do with Samson?”

“Honestly? Very hard.” Her eyes stayed on Cassie, the hope obvious to him.

Cassie looked up at him and then at her. “And you’re not in love with him?”

Victoria’s smile held a hint of sadness. “No. And even if there was potential—and there’s not—I’ve come to understand great gifts and talents often require sacrifice. Relationships are very difficult because of my career and the fact I often travel for cases. And I understand from Mona and Shae—and now for myself—that Master Samson is clearly in love with you.” She shifted her gaze to Ivan and grinned. “As well as his brother, judging by what I’ve heard. They can hardly take their eyes off of you. And I imagine you’ve already discovered Samson’s squishy marshmallow interior…if it’s permissible to point that fact out, Sir?”

“You’re pushing it, subbie,” he quipped, softening his words with a grin.

Victoria giggled and then sipped from her drink, trying to look innocent. It was good to see her relaxing, and even better to see Cassie seemed more comfortable with their platonic relationship.

Cassie nodded. “Okay, then. Hearing how it works from you helped, Victoria. The next time you need to get together with him, I want to watch.”

“Not a problem, ma’am.”

January
…

“It’s nice listening to you sing while you work, Mom,” Joseph said as he worked at her desk while she sat on a stool at the worktable opposite the office doorway so they could see each other. The coffee shop was closed on Sundays, the kitchen quiet except for the hum from the walk-in refrigerator and the click of the ventilation fan as the wind stirred it.

She’d been so lost in her own drifting thoughts as she sketched out an idea for a wedding cake that she hadn’t even been aware of singing. “I’ve been working on a song, and I guess it’s stuck in my head.”

“I can’t wait to see you perform at Rudy’s. You’ll amaze everyone with your gift.”

“I don’t know about amazing them, but I think it’ll be a fun creative outlet.”

“You always underestimate your talent, Mom. You’ll see.”

He’d graduated and moved home just the week before. When he’d told her he wanted to go in on a Sunday afternoon to get acclimated, she’d agreed and had offered to go in with him. Once there, he’d surprised her with detailed proposals and had even broached the idea of using the money he’d inherited from his paternal grandfather to finance expansion and remodeling of the coffee shop, if she was open to the idea.

The plans were all laid out in front of her, and she mulled his suggestions over while she sketched. Keeping her hands busy helped her to think things through.

“What did Uncle Antonio want earlier?” he asked, referring to her earlier phone conversation as he used the adding machine. “Whatever it was didn’t sound like good news.”

“They told your grandfather he was moving into an assisted living community, and he was livid. Uncle Antonio wants me to talk to him, as if that would help. He was mad at me and decided to give Antonio the power of attorney to make his medical decisions. I don’t see what I can do to help.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Joseph said, pausing in his calculations. “You want me to go see him? He might listen to me.”

“You’re probably right, but the question is whether he would remember your conversation. He needs to see a specialist. The last time he wandered off it upset him, along with everyone else, and he agreed to see the doctor, but by the time the appointment rolled around, he refused and then said he was going to buy another car so he could drive himself around. I’m afraid he’s a danger to himself, but it’s not my call.”

She had to fight back pangs of guilt. In her head, she knew it was the right choice to allow his family to make those decisions since she had enough on her hands taking care of her mother, but her heart was another matter. Antonio always made a point of reminding her that both of her grandparents had been cared for at home until passing away. He’d even gone so far as to tell her if she was still married she could take better responsibility for her parents, as if it was her obligation to somehow bring them both together under one roof and make them get along.

“Do you think Uncle Antonio feels as though he’s betraying him if he puts him into a community where he’ll get more supervision?”

“Yes, it’s not the way they have always done things in our family. But Aunt Rita shouldn’t have to babysit him full time. Personally, I’m not sure an assisted living community would give him the level of supervision he needs.”