18. Pepper
EIGHTEEN
PEPPER
Crying myself to sleep left me feeling hungover the next morning. Usually, I kept my office door open, but today wasn’t normal. So, I closed my door and shut myself in with coffee while I read through emails and ignored everyone else.
Last night was too much. I'd gone out to a bar to listen to Salt without panties on. I still couldn't believe I'd done that. I also couldn't believe that I enjoyed it.
I loved being praised. Really, I did. But I was also starting to realize that I enjoyed degradation, too. That the slight edge of humiliation sparked something unexpected inside me. I wasn't sure what to do with any of that information now, though. Everything was over and Salt would move on. I'd made the right choice.
A knock came at my door, and then it cracked open. Tommy poked his head in, giving a wave. “Have a moment?” he asked.
“Of course,” I replied.
He slipped inside and shut the door behind him, coming to stand behind the sleek chair in front of my desk. He had a look on his face I didn't like.
“I heard a rumor,” Tommy said hesitantly.
A rumor. Already, I felt myself shutting down any emotions, bracing for whatever else he had to say. “What kind of rumor?” I asked, my tone flat.
He winced as he sat down on the edge of the chair, leaning forward to study me. “Okay. I heard that Salt fired his bass player last night… because of you.”
“ What? ” I asked. “That didn’t happen.”
“Well, s omething happened,” Tommy said.
He drew in a sharp breath, his stress evident in the way he ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t like whatever this rumor was, which meant I wasn’t going to like it either.
“And I also heard that…” He trailed off and then shifted uncomfortably. “Did you sleep with him?”
Everything stopped moving. All the years of keeping my emotions in check had never been more useful than they were now. “Someone insinuated that we slept together?” I asked lightly.
I knew someone was watching us. Fuck.
Tommy nodded. “Yeah. Did you?”
Tommy had always been direct. And he knew me too fucking well.
The only card I had was to play into what everyone thought about me.
“Do you really think someone like Salt, a twenty-five-year-old horny songwriter covered in tattoos, would sleep with someone like me?”
He blinked and sat back slightly. He blew out a breath. “I don’t know, Pepper. The divorce was hard on you. It’s been a tough time, and I wouldn’t blame you for having fun with someone younger. But Salt is way too young for you. And I mean, someone like you shouldn’t even want to be with something like him.”
“Something?” I asked. “You mean someone?”
He sighed, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah, of course. My point is that you wouldn’t be interested in doing the stuff I’m sure that guy is into. You didn’t even know what a Prince Albert piercing was until last week.”
A mix of humiliation, fear, and anger crept up. “It wouldn’t be wrong for me to have desires.”
“Of course not,” he said smoothly. “Of course not. But like… maybe not those desires.”
“Tommy,” I said, taken aback. “I know about you and Dan’s sex life. It’s not like you’re not into stuff. I don’t understand what you’re thinking about me.”
His knee was bouncing up and down. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You’re kind of a prude. You always have been. I love you, Pepper, and I know you’d never do anything sexual with a client.”
“Well, then there’s your answer,” I whispered with a smile. But Salt isn’t a client. Yet.
Tommy nodded and then his smile melted. “Right. Of course.”
“Salt isn’t a client yet. So if I did sleep with him, it wouldn’t be wrong,” I said. “And if he were a client, and I did sleep with him, I’d inform the board per the morality clause in my contract. The same one that both you and Jeff have. And then what?”
Tommy just stared.
“Nothing,” I said. “Right? Because you’d be informed.”
“It would make things difficult…”
“Difficult? Like how Jeff was difficult when he was fucking the intern for months and everyone knew about it but me?”
His cheeks flushed. “Yeah. Maybe not that bad. But it wouldn’t be good.”
All I did was nod. My heart was beating too fast. “He’s too young.”
“Oh, definitely,” Tommy snorted, still nervous.
“Too hot for me, too.”
Tommy agreed initially, but then frowned. “Pepper, you’re?—”
“He’s just not my type. You can go.”
He went still, frowning. “I feel like I’ve upset you.”
“You have,” I said. “Tommy, I love you, but you’re a dumbass. And Dan is my favorite.”
“Jesus,” he gasped, covering his heart like he’d been shot.
We stared at each other for a moment, andboth cracked smiles And this time, my smile was a little bit more genuine. Even though my feelings were hurt, and this had just been a painful reminder that— don’t fucking go there now.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said. “I care about you, Pepper. Deeply. Are you okay?”
“The death date is coming up.” It’d be my excuse to anyone close to me for the next week. “Just not a good time to be accused of bad behavior by someone who’s known me for so long.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry. I just heard that rumor and was so shocked, but I’ll get those fires put out. And fuck that bass player for starting such gossip. That fucker is on my list now.”
“Thanks,” I said. “So that’s where it came from? And not Dale?”
“Who the fuck is Dale?” Tommy snorted.
“Nobody.” I was made of plastic. “Do you mind shutting the door on your way out? I just have a headache today.”
“Of course. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
The moment the door closed, I pushed my chair back, and sat on the floor, leaning against my desk as I forced myself to breathe.
My eyes closed as I counted to ten, fighting through the hurricane of emotions.
Deep breath, deep breath…
My whole body trembled. In the darkness of my mind, I remembered hiding like this years ago. Hiding in my closet while my parents fought. They never screamed. They never hit. It was always done in hushed whispers and passive aggressive actions. In the closet, I could feel things like sadness and fear. Outside of the closet, I had to be perfect again.
I thought for so long that part of me was dead. But maybe I’d been wrong. Everyone still saw me as Perfect Pepper. Everyone still saw me as this intimidating figure, without sexual needs or desires. I couldn’t have a personality outside of the company I’d built.
God forbid I ever wanted someone like Salt.
Last night came roaring back. Leaving the club, calling an Uber while squeezing my thighs together and worrying that people knew where I’d been and what we’d been doing. I knew people saw us. I knew they’d talk. I’d still made the choice to go out and see him play.
And I didn’t regret it.
I didn’t regret touching myself to his music.
I didn’t regret climaxing to the sound of him. To the feeling of him.
I didn’t regret having sex with him again.
What I regretted was walking away. I regretted waking up in a massive bed, in silken sheets that were the only thing wrapped around my body. I regretted not taking more time to be with him.
Why did it have to be like this? I wiped my eyes gently and then opened them, readjusting the light of my office. I wished that I could stay here, hidden forever.
I’d done the right thing by cutting things off with Salt.
Why didn’t it feel that way?