16. Hailee
Chapter sixteen
Hailee
“L ater, Kev.” I give a small wave as I pass the front desk.
“Have a lovely day, ma’am.” His eyes crinkle with a gentle smile.
Leaving the apartment building, I’m excited to have a busy day ahead. I’ve missed Cora; I haven’t seen her much since she left Eden. In fact, I haven’t been in contact with anyone from Eden since I moved in with Dameon a month ago. Cora’s idling out the front in a brand-new black BMW convertible, looking every bit the goddess she is. This lifestyle really suits her.
“Get in, bitch, we’ve got money to burn!” She slides on her sunglasses. I shake my head and drop onto the soft leather passenger seat.
“Cute outfit, by the way,” she comments, eyeing my lacy pink crop top.
“Thanks! Where’re we going?”
“I’ve got the whole day planned. Shopping, followed by lunch at Ivy, and then finishing off with full body massages.”
I clap my hands like a little kid, grateful to have my day filled and to be spending it with my friend.
Fifteen minutes later, Cora tosses her car keys to the valet at one of Sydney’s most exclusive department stores. We make our way inside, and a line of staff greets us, ready to escort us to a private dressing room. Suddenly I feel underdressed in my tiny crop top, denim skirt, and sandals. I link my arm with Cora’s as we follow behind.
“This is a bit over-the-top, isn’t it?” I whisper.
“James organized it for us.” She rolls her eyes. Enough said. Her husband—Dameon’s best friend and co-CEO—is even more controlling than Dameon.
We enter the dressing room, where rack upon rack of clothing stand, ready for us to peruse.
“Would you like assistance in selecting items, or would you prefer privacy?” a staff member asks.
“Privacy would be great, thank you,” Cora responds.
“Of course. There’s champagne on ice for you both to enjoy, and if you require assistance, please press this button.” We both thank her as she leaves us to browse. I flick through the formal gowns, casual wear, lingerie, bikinis, and resort wear on the groaning racks. A realization sparks and I fling open the dressing room door. “Excuse me,” I sing out, “have these clothes been pre-selected?”
“Yes, ma’am, Mr. Hayward and Mr. Hayes have chosen everything in this room,” the attendant confirms.
“Of course, thank you.”
She walks away, leaving us in privacy. I glance over at Cora and snort with laughter.
“Doesn’t it bother you that he’s so controlling and demanding all the time?” I keep my tone playful, but I genuinely want to know her answer.
“Not at all. I kind of like it… crave it,” Cora replies. “I resisted at the start—you know, my own thoughts and feelings about feminism and what’s socially acceptable getting in my way. But at the end of the day, it’s my choice to submit, and if I change my mind about anything we do, I know he’ll agree and support my wishes.” She shrugs. “He loves me, he would do anything for me, and in the end, I’m the one who controls our relationship. Plus, I can’t deny, his dominance makes me so fucking wet,” she adds with a coy smile.
She’s lucky to have found James. I remember seeing them together at Eden; they were so sweet, the yin to each other’s yang—perfect for each other. When they’re together his eyes never stray far from her; he’s always captivated by her, seeming to anticipate her needs before she even realizes she has them. My heart aches with want, and I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.
We hit the rails and begin browsing, but there’s not a single pair of pants in sight. I smirk. Kinky bastards . The clothes are all from expensive labels, and I start to make a pile. I pull out slinky skirts, tops and cocktail dresses, my fingers grazing the soft, luxurious fabrics. Moving to the accessories table, I pick out shoes and handbags to complete the looks. I bypass the lingerie; it seems kind of pointless when I’m naked all the time anyway. Cora, on the other hand, pulls out a barely-there red bikini.
“Oh, this will be perfect for the boat!” she exclaims.
“What boat?”
“Dameon hasn’t told you?”
“Told me what?”
“We’re going on a cruise together in a couple of weeks. James and Dameon co-own a yacht and there will be about…” She pauses. “Four couples in total, I think? All clients from Eden. It’s kind of a kinky cruise.” She raises her shoulders in excitement.
“A what?” I huff a laugh.
“Yeah, kind of like Eden but on the ocean. It’ll be so much fun. You should totally get a new bikini too.”
I look through the swimsuits that our men selected, and they can barely be called bikinis. All of them are G-strings with tiny scraps of material for the tops. They wouldn’t even cover a nipple. But by the sound of this cruise, I think that’s the point. I select an emerald-green bikini that matches my eyes and add it the pile.
“Do you want some champagne?” I ask, heading over to the side table where a selection of savory and sweet treats is set up.
“Yes, please.”
I pour two glasses as Cora joins me, and we collapse onto the loungers. Handing her a glass, I notice her eyeing me warily.
“You can ask me, you know.” I side-eye her.
“I didn’t know I was that transparent,” she laughs.
We both sip our champagne, falling into a comfortable silence as I wait for Cora to form her question.
“How do you do it?” She nibbles on her bottom lip as she pauses to gather her thoughts. “What I mean is, how can you keep your feelings separate? For me, submitting is deeply entwined with my feelings for James. I don’t think I could separate the two.”
I sigh. “It’s tough, I’m not going to lie. But it’s a mutual agreement; we’re both getting something out of it, and when the twelve months is up, we’ll walk away.” I shrug like it’s not a big deal.
“But will you be able to walk away when time’s up? I know you’ve always had a thing for him.”
“I like Dameon a lot. I do. But this is just a job, and if I need to keep reminding myself of that, I will. To be honest, I’m a little envious of your relationship with James. It’s clear that he absolutely adores you. And you get to serve him and submit. That’s what I want with someone. But men like Dameon don’t fall for women like me.” It feels good to finally admit the brutal truth, acknowledging the harsh realities that come with the complexities of my job.
“Oh, Hailee. That’s not true. James fell for me! We certainly had our difficulties getting to this point, but all that pain and anguish was worth it in the end. It was worth fighting for.”
“No offense, but your situation is different. You’ve only ever had one client at Eden, and that was James. And you had that connection through Leo,” I point out. Her eyes soften at the mention of her little boy. “This isn’t a fairy tale; this is real life. And hot billionaires who are kinky and like to dominate when they fuck don’t end up with hookers. They end up with a socialite from the same elite circle who has no idea what he really needs in bed. I’ve been down this road before… I know how it ends,” I confess.
“I get it… I do.” She squeezes my arm gently and looks directly into my eyes. “But you forget that you’re an intelligent, kind-hearted, vivacious woman who doesn’t let her profession dictate her worthiness. One day the right man will come along who will recognize your worth and see that you’re more than just your job. Exactly how you see yourself.”
“Maybe,” I respond with a grateful smile, though inside, doubt gnaws at me. Cora’s perceptive gaze tells me she sees through my smile, that she understands the burden of the taboo that clings to me like a stubborn shadow. Once a whore, always a whore —as if a simple label could ever define the entirety of a person. Despite Cora’s reassurance, I know that shedding that stigma won’t be easy. It’s etched into the fabric of society, ingrained in the judgments of others, and sometimes, even in the quiet doubts that lurk within me. Yet, in moments like these, I find a glimmer of hope—a belief that maybe, there’s a path forward where the weight of judgment fades, and I’m free to define myself on my own terms.
“Dameon is…” she begins, her voice trailing off as she searches for the right words. “From what James has said, Dameon hasn’t had it easy with relationships either. He’s only had one serious girlfriend and that was years ago. Apparently, she was a piece of work.”
“He told me.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Then you know why he is the way he is. He rarely dates, and he won’t ever touch a woman without an NDA and a contract. He believes he’s only cut out for one type of relationship: transactional.” Cora’s words carry a weighty truth, that behind the veneer of power and control lies a man shaped by betrayal. “This really needs to be just a job.”
“It is, I promise,” I say with forced confidence, though I’m not sure who I’m trying harder to convince—Cora or myself.
Downing the rest of my champagne in one determined gulp, I push aside the lingering uncertainty. “Let’s try these on and get to the restaurant. I’m starving.” My growling stomach reminds me of the irony that Dameon’s first punishment was partly for skipping lunch. I never miss a meal. The only reason I did that day was because I passed out from heat stroke. Not that I would ever admit that to him.
I strip in the middle of the dressing room and slip on the bikini first. It’s totally obscene, and I can’t wait for this boat trip. Cora does the same without hesitation. By the time we’ve finish trying on our selections, we each have a decent-sized pile and the guilt for spending Dameon’s money settles in the pit of my stomach. The thought of taking even more from him churns my insides. I haven’t touched his black Amex card yet, but it’s in for quite the workout today.
We leave the department store with the reassurance our purchases will be delivered the next day and make our way around the corner to the restaurant. The hostess seats us at a table and runs through the specials, including the daily cocktail: an espresso martini. Cora and I exchange a look but our faces are plastered with very different expressions. Mine reflects horror, while hers sparkles with amusement.
“No, thank you,” we chorus, bursting into laughter.
“Oh God,” I groan. “You have no idea how sorry I am for putting you in that position.”
I still feel terrible about the night I got blind drunk on espresso martinis and asked Cora to drive my car home so I could take Beth to the doctor the next morning. Little did I know, Cora was also pretty drunk and a little sick from the cocktails, and she was arrested for drink driving. She was lucky to escape a charge, but James ended up using the incident to discredit her as a mother, because he stupidly thought she was out to destroy him. It all worked out in the end for Cora, but I’ve never forgiven myself for putting her in that position, even though she has said many times that all is forgiven and forgotten.
“Please, you need to let this go. It’s actually kind of funny now,” she insists. I vigorously shake my head—I don’t think I’ll ever be able to laugh about it.
As we order our food and gossip about Eden, the clientele, and the owner Madame Sophia, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. Since we walked through the door, I could feel a pair of eyes trained on me. Now when I scan the restaurant, my gaze locks with a gorgeous brunette. She’s not even attempting to hide her stare. I offer her a warm smile in acknowledgment, but she doesn’t return it. Turning back to Cora, I lean over the table and whisper, “Is that woman still watching me?”
“Who?” Cora looks up from her plate. “The brunette in white?” she whispers.
“Yeah, she’s been watching me since we arrived.”
“Wife?”
“Maybe.” It’s not uncommon to encounter a client’s wife in public. Usually, when a partner suspects cheating, she’ll hire a private eye to follow him to Eden. Then after some thorough investigating and stalking, she’ll make herself known to the goddess. Most of the time it’s an honest and friendly conversation. We usually get the blame for the husband’s wandering eyes and hands, which is utterly insane. We’re not responsible for their philandering ways. But after explaining that we’re just doing our job and that most of the time when we’re with their husband, we’re thinking about what to have for dinner, not plotting to destroy their marriage, they get it. But on the odd occasion, you come across a woman who’s slightly unhinged…
“What a weirdo.” Cora shakes her head, dismissing the woman’s stare.
“So, tell me,” she says, distracting me from the eyes piercing into my back. “What’s it like with Dameon? Spill, I want to know all the juicy goss.” She wiggles her eyebrows up and down, and I can’t help but smile. Talking about Dameon is my favorite subject.
“God, he’s incredible. Apart from being gorgeous and eating pussy like it’s his favorite meal”—Cora blushes hard at this, her cheeks tinting red. It’s a mystery to me how she can still blush after working at Eden—“he’s thoughtful and compassionate, always putting my needs first.” I swallow roughly and repeat my mantra.
This is a job.
This is a job.
This is a job.
Despite my chant, I can’t shake the feeling of being adrift, caught between the life I’m living and the life I want.
“And the kinky stuff?” she asks, her eagerness palpable. And who am I to deny her the spicy details?
“Well, he has me naked all the time, even in front of his staff. I have to kneel at the front door like a bitch in heat when he comes home.”
“Ohh, I love that! I’m getting ideas here, keep going.” Her eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint.
“I suck his dick every morning to wake him up. Breakfast of champions.” I wink at her, and she blushes again. “I almost crave it now. I miss his dick in my mouth when he wakes up before me and leaves for work.” I frown at how quickly into our arrangement that happened. “The punishments are my favorite though. I feel sooo good after a thorough spanking. And he knows it, so it’s not really a punishment,” I admit with a shrug.
Cora’s eyes glow. “Same here. Sometimes I push James’s buttons just so I can get a spanking.” She smiles wickedly. I knew she would be a brat.
“He also loves to feed me. Depending on his mood, he’ll have me sit on his lap while he hand-feeds me. Sometimes it’s hot, other times I’m too hungry and just want to eat in peace.” I laugh. “But most of all, I love his laugh and smile. And those beautiful dimples. It gives me so much pleasure seeing him relaxed and happy.” Cora’s slight wince makes me panic at my overshare. I didn’t mean to say that; it just slipped out of my mouth without thought.
Fuck .
She takes a sip of her water and changes the subject, showing me mercy.
“So, what do you do with your days when you’re not pleasuring your master?” she drawls.
“Not much, actually. To be honest, I’m bored out of my mind. Other than visiting Beth, my days are completely free. I’ve tried Pilates, but it’s not really me. I can’t annoy Beth all the time; she has a tutor during the day and needs to concentrate on her studies. I’m not sure what to do. It’s only been a month and I’m already going batshit crazy.”
“Maybe you could go back to Eden?” she suggests.
“Do you think he would allow it?”
“If you don’t ask, you’ll never know.”
“Mmm, I don’t know. Men are possessive bastards; he’ll never go for it.” It’s hard to keep the resignation out of my voice.
“You never know. He’s not like most men,” she counters optimistically.
And she’s right, he’s not. He’s so much more.
We finish lunch and head to our spa appointment. By the end of the day, I’m fully relaxed and blissed out. This is exactly what I needed. When Cora drops me home, I wave her goodbye and head into the foyer. I’m surprised to see John, the night manager, already on his shift. Which means…
Oh, no .
I quickly fish my phone out of my purse. It’s five forty-five and I have three missed calls from Dameon.
Shit .