Chapter 9 #3
To clear my head, and maybe hers, as well, I lift hand and kiss the back of it, brushing my mouth across her fingertips, and when I look up she’s smiling, her cheeks flushed once more.
“Why are you being coy with me?” I ask her.
“Am I?” she replies, batting those long, dark lashes.
“Yeah, you are. And you know what that’ll get you later, don’t you?”
“A whipping? Or will it be you bending me over the kitchen counter and fisting me?”
And just like that, my dick is hard as a fucking rock.
“Don’t play with me, my girl,” I tell her, trying to keep my tone stern, but she smiles and covers her mouth with one hand, barely hiding the small giggle that escapes her.
But I don’t mind—not one bit. I’m fucking delighted with her, and that’s the truth.
I’m still holding onto her soft hand when our meal arrives, and I almost hate letting go. We eat quietly, sometimes smiling at each other.
“I forget how very French you are,” I tell her, “until I see something like this; how you hold your fork and knife.”
“Oh. Did I… Shall I hold my utensils differently, Sir?”
I lay a hand over hers. That warmth is there again. Still. Always.
“Nah, I like it. It just reminds me of where you come from.”
“I didn’t learn table manners at home growing up,” she says.
“Our mother was hardly sophisticated. But we’d watch people in restaurants as we walked by—Sandrine and I both.
We studied the people in movies. And in Pigalle we had an American neighbor, Lorraine—she was an old prostitute—and she had a television.
She was elderly and lonely, and she would invite us over to watch with her.
We would drink endless cups of coffee, and sometimes she would buy these little cookies to share with us.
She loved to collect vintage silk scarves.
I stole one for her once, from a street vendor.
It was blue and green against a white background, with flowers and birds.
She loved it so much, even when I admitted to her that it was stolen…
” She stops, her eyes losing focus as she remembers.
“She was so kind to us. She loved the really old black-and-white films. Katherine Hepburn was her favorite. And that’s how we first learned to speak English, learned good table manners, how to move with grace.
It was Lorraine, and the way we observed people.
We always knew we wanted a different sort of life. ”
“So, you’re saying you two sort of trained yourselves early on, then?”
“I hadn’t exactly thought of it like that, but yes, I suppose we did. And then Madame Alice refined us in so many ways.”
“She did show you a very fine life.”
“She did, yes. She lived a wonderful life, and I’m glad for her.
” She pauses, once again dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin.
I can see that she’s thinking, rolling something over in her mind.
“I am so, so glad that she got to have the life she did, because it was cut short far too soon. And…this is something I’ve been thinking of for perhaps the last year or more…
that I should learn a lesson from that. To appreciate each day, the gifts I’ve been given in this life. And most of all, the people I love.”
Her gaze rests on mine, a shadow passing over those lovely hazel eyes, and I understand the message she’s trying to convey. At least, I think I do.
But no—that’s bullshit, ain’t it? The part of me that even questions her intent is the same part that feels like I’m too damn rough and fucked up to deserve anything so fine as her.
And suddenly I get it; why I’ve avoided being with her all this damn time.
Yeah, my ideas about what she and Sandrine needed as the top-shelf slaves they are were realistic, and still are.
But fuck me if I don’t deserve to have her as my own.
I’ve fought it too long, and for what fucking reason?
Because I haven’t felt like I’m good enough?
I’m not rich, but my salary keeps me quite well.
And I’ve been working as a Handler in these elite circles long enough to know exactly how it’s done.
Maybe I can care for her in the way she needs, if not as luxuriously as she’s used to.
Of course, I’d still need my job as the House driver to maintain us in any sort of style.
If I left my job, I don’t know that I’d have access any longer to the House, to the Primal Ranch, to the Masters and Mistresses who run this bizarre and glittering world we live in.
So, no. I can’t do it. I can’t take her away.
Fuck.
“Gilby? Are you alright?”
“Eh? Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” I tell her, knowing it’s a bullshit answer. I am far from alright. But I remind m’self that I was the one who said we’d live in this temporary fantasy for now. I need to make good on it, or my miserable self is of no fucking use to her at all.
“So, what happened to Lorraine?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We met Madame Alice, and she had us come to live with her in her home in Paris, then she moved us to her home in London, and we never saw Lorraine after we moved away.
I feel bad that we didn’t keep in touch.
But everything moved so fast, and very quickly we became fully contracted slaves, so of course we never left the house without our dear Madame.
But I often wish we had sent Lorraine a card now and then, or a little gift. She really did so much for us.”
“It sounds to me as if you did give her a gift—the two of you keeping a lonely old lady company.”
“Yes. Until we didn’t.”
“Nah, you’re too hard on yourself.”
She arches one dark eyebrow at me. “I suppose you would know all about that, yes?”
“Ha! Yeah, you’ve got me there. But let’s not be sad tonight, eh? How is your dinner?” I ask.
“It’s so lovely. I haven’t had duck in forever. Not since we left London.”
“I remembered that you loved it.”
“Did you? How do you remember such a tiny detail?”
“I remember everything,” I tell her. “Every single thing you like, or don’t like. I remember every moment with you.”
She tilts her head, as if trying to figure out what I’m saying.
Or maybe it’s that she finds it hard to believe?
I don’t know. And I hate being so uncertain about this.
About anything. That is not how I operate.
I haven’t felt unsure since Madame Alice died, leaving me to find a new life for Giselle and Sandrine.
“I remember every moment with you, too,” she says, so quietly it’s almost a whisper. Her eyes are cast down at her plate.
I reach over and lift her chin, looking into her eyes. I need to be sure she knows what I’m about to say is the absolute fucking truth.
“This is important, Giselle, and I’m sorry I’ve avoided it all this time.
We know our history. What we’ve been through, the times we had together before we came to The Training House.
I’ve been hiding from it, if I’m being honest here.
Tucking it away because it was too damn hard to look at.
Because looking at it meant I’d have to face how I let you down.
How I let m’self down, which I honestly don’t care about nearly as much.
But what I’ve done to you—that’s inexcusable.
I’m going to try to fix it, if I can. I don’t really know if that’s possible.
I don’t know what the options are. But I’m going to try.
At some point tomorrow, probably in the evening, Master Damon and Master Christopher will be at the apartment to talk with me about it.
About you. I can’t make any promises about how that conversation will go.
But I need you to know I am going to try to resolve this somehow. ”
“Oh!”
Her eyes are wide. She looks a bit in shock. Well, so am I still, to be fair.
“Thank you, Gilby,” she says, her eyes pooling, and one small tear rolling down her cheek.
Immediately I reach out to wipe it away.
“No tears now, my lovely. Again, I can’t promise you anything.
I won’t know what might happen until I speak with them.
I can’t afford to buy out your contract—a lifelong contract is worth several million, at least, and you’re branded to the House.
The situation is unprecedented. It’s not like Master Christopher running off with Aimée.
He’s wealthy in his own right, always has been, and she had a term contract. ”
“I understand,” she says. “But you telling me this means so much to me, that you want to try. It means everything.”
I lean over and kiss her, and her mouth is warm and sweet, as it always is. My heart is a hammer in my chest, pounding, pounding. But I’ve got to put this all aside and enjoy the rest of the night.
“Are you done eating? I need to get you out of here, back to the apartment. We can get dessert to go, if you like.”
She shakes her head. “I only need you.”