25. Chapter 25
Frankie
Frankie pulled a stack of twenties from her safe and carefully counted them out onto her desk. She set them up in groups of five before unlocking her desk and fishing out the petty cash. There she traded the twenties for hundred-dollar bills, put the petty cash back, and secured the safe.
The chore numbed her thoughts of Evan, which was precisely what she hoped it would do.
Three days had passed since they’d snuck out of her apartment while she was in the shower.
She was trying so hard to be patient, waiting for Evan to seek her out rather than Frankie going into full possessive mode.
After everything that had transpired between them, being tactful was key.
And Evan wasn’t the only one struggling. Frankie wasn’t sleeping, and when she finally caught a few winks, the nightmares weren’t too far off. Ones of Caleb, and Emily. There had even been a nightmare where she’d defended herself against Evan’s attack and killed them.
Frankie was exhausted. And lonely .
Having Evan so close, yet being unable to touch them, was torture in and of itself. She’d expected to feel fury over Evan’s attack, betrayed even. How could she ever trust them not to try again down the road? But she didn’t.
In fact, since she’d first learned of their connection to Caleb, a quiet acceptance had overtaken Frankie.
She had never been the type to leave things in the hands of fate, but with Evan, the words “It will be what it will be” had become an everyday mantra.
For someone who had spent most of their life remaining in control, that was a tricky phrase to abide by.
She slipped the money into a black sleeve before tucking it into a manila envelope.
Next, she added the printout of Auntie B’s address to the front of the envelope, making sure not to include a return address.
The last thing Frankie wanted was a discussion about the funds she budgeted and mailed out each month.
It was best for everyone if her aunt received the envelope anonymously.
That way, no concern was had, old wounds remained suppressed, and no feelings got hurt.
No matter how much she wished it were possible, Frankie couldn’t change the past. But she could send money to help where needed.
“It’s the least I can do for you.” For you and for her.
Frankie thought of the boy she’d seen in so many of Auntie B’s pictures over the years.
Well, at twenty-one, she supposed Maddox was now a man.
Frankie couldn’t begin to understand the responsibility of raising a child into adulthood, but she imagined that at his age, there must have been something he required.
Perhaps her aunt was putting the money into a college fund. She wouldn’t know.
Because you lost those rights a long time ago.
“Oh, fuck off,” Frankie chastised, jerking the adhesive off the lip of the envelope and securing it.
She spent the next few hours poring over the finance reports and scheduling.
Evan’s half-assed devotion to sabotaging her business had unfortunately created a dent in the pub’s overall balance.
A budget for miscellaneous expenses was a necessity, but Evan managed to screw Frankie over so much that Sloane had had to dip into other accounts just to keep the pub afloat.
After two months, Frankie expected things to start looking up again, but the longer she studied the numbers, the less they made sense.
“This is why Sloane’s in charge of all this.
” Frankie pushed her chair away from her desk.
She let her eyes close and reached up to massage her temples.
Something in the books wasn’t adding up, but she was too exhausted to figure it out.
Sloane had been working the bar a lot lately.
Maybe Frankie needed to pull some of her hours there, so she’d have more to dedicate to the bookkeeping part of her job.
A tentative knock pulled Frankie from her thoughts.
“Come in,” she said and winced at how rough around the edges she sounded.
She stood up just as the door opened, and her eyes widened fractionally at the sight of Sawyer hovering over the threshold.
Frankie waved her in and headed to the water cooler in the corner of her office.
Filling two glasses, she offered one to Sawyer before nestling into her leather chair once more.
“Thank you. And hello,” Sawyer greeted, her tone and mannerisms stiff yet as polite as always.
Frankie took a long drink of her water before setting it on the coaster on her desk. She quirked an eyebrow. “Do you ever smile?”
“Coming here to ask my girlfriend’s ex for help doesn’t exactly justify a smile, wouldn’t you agree?”
Frankie stared at Sawyer’s pensive expression, her mind drawing a blank for a good five seconds before the reason for the visit hit her. “We had an appointment.”
“Yes.”
“I completely forgot, I’m sorry.” Frankie leaned closer, resting her elbows on the table.
A smug smile threatened to take over, but she smothered it.
She wasn’t a monster. It wouldn’t serve anyone well if she made Sawyer more uncomfortable than she was already.
Still, she couldn’t help the words that came out.
“You want to learn how to fuck McCoy with a strap.”
A kaleidoscope of emotions crossed Sawyer’s face, from surprise to embarrassment and finally to annoyance.
“Per your suggestion, yes,” she responded through clenched, almost perfect white teeth.
One day, when and if they ever crossed into proper friend territory, Frankie would have to ask Sawyer what her dental regimen was like.
Frankie opened her hands, palms up, in the most non-threatening posture possible. “Hey, there’s no shame in that. McCoy deserves everything you can offer, and soon, strapping up will be one of those. How’s she doing since we last spoke?”
“She told me of your meeting a few weeks ago. How you told her you loved her.”
“Okay.” Frowning, Frankie stood again, heading to her filing cabinet this time.
McCoy blurting out private conversations between them irked her, but what did she expect?
McCoy was as loyal as they came, and these days, her loyalty was to Sawyer.
“Then I can only guess that she told you the entire conversation, not just the part where it looks as if I’m attempting to steal her back.
Because I’m not, in case you’re interested. ”
“I … do know that. I suppose I just needed to hear you say it,” Sawyer finally conceded. Frankie heard her clasp her hands together. “So, what do you have in mind?”
Right to business. My kind of woman. Frankie smiled, retrieved a bag from the bottom of the filing cabinet, and brought it back to her desk. “I went shopping after our last talk. Excuse me if it was a bit presumptuous on my part, but I couldn’t picture you browsing this kind of store.”
“What— Oh.” Sawyer’s brows shot up as Frankie emptied the contents of the bag across her messy desk. An adorable blush darkened her tanned complexion as she eyed the selection of dildos and strap accessories Frankie had purchased.
“I know McCoy has some already,” Frankie began, biting back a laugh when Sawyer’s gaze darted around before finally settling on her lap. “But it would be good for you to find something you can get personally comfortable with. The more your confidence builds, the better the outcome will be.”
A noncommittal grunt left Sawyer, and when she didn’t look at the toys again, a small sigh left Frankie.
She rounded her desk to where Sawyer sat rigid in her seat.
Frankie leaned against her desk and folded her arms across her chest. She kept her voice soft as she asked, “What about this scares you the most?”
“It doesn’t scare me,” Sawyer refuted, her gaze lifting to Frankie’s now. She scowled, but the deepening blush on her cheeks was hard for Frankie to ignore.
“Mm-hmm, I think it does. A little bit. So why not tell me?”
Sawyer clamped her mouth shut, refusing to speak. She looked away. Frankie sighed again, pushing herself off the desk. The hour hand on the wall clock loomed overhead as she made her way back to her seat, and she silently cursed. It was well past noon. She should have checked with her staff by now.
“I-I’m afraid of failing. At this.”
The vulnerability in Sawyer’s voice had Frankie’s tense shoulders relaxing slightly. She eyed the clock again. She could spare a few more minutes. If not for Sawyer’s benefit, then for McCoy’s.
“You don’t need to make decisions today.
” Frankie studied Sawyer’s features, silently appreciating all her natural beauty and imperfections.
It was a shame she didn’t smile more. Frankie trailed a hand over the selection of toys.
“All you have to do is choose a couple you think you might like. You can take them home and first get comfortable with how they feel, how they look on you in the mirror. And you can ask McCoy her opinion if you’re worried at all. ”
“No.” Sawyer shook her head, and Frankie’s hand fell away. Sawyer cleared her throat, repeating, “No. I need to go into this like a Domme.”
Frankie hesitated. “Okay, but part of being a Domme is discovering what your sub likes. McCoy understands—”
“I know,” Sawyer cut in. She blew out a breath. “I mean that I want to act confident when I do this. Otherwise, McCoy will unknowingly switch things around, and I’ll be the one on my back. And that won’t help her when she’s feeling …”
“Submissive?” Frankie finished for her. Sawyer nodded. “Okay, well, let’s go over it then. And no shying away this time. You’re a fucking gorgeous femme and the only one in the city who’s been able to steal McCoy’s heart. That alone should have your head up high, honey.”
To Frankie’s shock, Sawyer smirked. “You’re right.”