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,

my business if she doesn’t want to share

home? I'll find a

I'd rather be

“As you wish.”

*****

my office door. “James, I have Kirstie on from downstairs. She's asking if

Aaahhh…

come up now if she wants to. Can you make coffee for two,

Francis fixes

decide if I’m the cause of

*****

less than five minutes, there is a timid tap at my door. I left it standing open, but she

“Come in, Kirstie.”

you for making

coffee, but as she leaves, I close the door behind her. “Kirstie, we’re friends. And I have the feeling this is a ‘James’

nods,

What now?

no fucking good at this sort of

at the beginning, whatever it is.” I gesture to

Nope…

Wrong…

then correct myself, instead waving her across to the

into a handkerchief. I sit opposite her, pour the coffee, try

Should I call Charlotte?

Kirstie

and there’s Michael of course. You always seem so

As she knows…

eyes slant up to

How we met…

threesome at the

And you know the rules. How it works. You really get

“Get it?”

mean, you really understand the Dom/sub

begin to see where this might

Ryan…

again. I try a gentle

He... He thinks he's completely

not the rules of the game. If something upsets you, or if

that, but Ryan... Could

to interfere in the relationship between a Dom and his

nods.

what he is requiring

squirming. “It's...” But

Crucified with embarrassment.

everyday life here, Kirstie? Or are we in

crying again, tears running furrows through what’s left of her

Ah, fuck….

Weeping women…

Francis?

No…

Considering how you and I met, there can't be

“He gets off

clubs are just right for him. He can be

public. Parking lots, elevators. Places we could be caught.

taking you too far,

and her eyes

Shit…

a safe word that can't be used

time, maybe

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