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.”

little longer, but no more

if she doesn’t want

you like to go home? I'll find a stand-in for you

I'd rather

“As you wish.”

*****

“James, I have Kirstie on from downstairs. She's asking if you could

Aaahhh…

she wants to. Can you make

James.” Francis fixes

to decide if I’m the

*****

there is a timid tap at my door. I left it standing open, but she knocks

“Come in, Kirstie.”

you for making the time to see me, Mr

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

nods, winding her

What now?

good at this sort

it is.” I gesture to the chair opposite mine

Nope…

Wrong…

correct myself, instead waving her across to the low seating by the coffee table, overlooking

and gulps, then hoots into a handkerchief. I sit opposite her, pour the coffee, try to make myself busy while she gets her

Should I call Charlotte?

but Kirstie

Dom and... and there’s Michael of course.

As she knows…

eyes slant up to

How we met…

threesome at

the rules. How it

“Get it?”

really

to see where

Ryan…

up again. I try a gentle prompt.

to this. He... He thinks he's completely in charge and that

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

know that, but Ryan... Could you maybe talk to

the relationship between a Dom and his sub? That's quite an ask,

she nods. “I

you tell me what he is

But

Crucified with embarrassment.

everyday life here, Kirstie? Or are we in

tears running

Ah, fuck….

Weeping women…

Francis?

No…

lean forward, elbows on knees. “Come on Kirstie. Considering how you and I met, there can't be too many taboos

says, “He gets off on

for him. He can be as exhibitionist as

public. Parking lots, elevators. Places

if he's taking you

up and her eyes red-rimmed,

Shit…

safe word that can't be used

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

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