21
Let me know when you get off work.
Brandon saw the notification the moment he pulled his phone from his locker in the staff breakroom. It was a text Isabella had sent nearly an hour ago.
He had clocked through another full shift without running into either of the two women. As usual, he’d spent every spare minute scanning the club grounds for them, but today had been a bust.
For a second, anxiety flared, spiraling into worst-case scenarios—car crashes, an impending argument, the sudden, crushing end of their arrangement…
He drew a slow breath, wrestling back control from his racing nerves. There was no reason to jump to conclusions. Giving himself a beat to settle, he texted back.
Just clocked out. Everything okay?
He hovered there, staring at the chat screen, watching the typing bubbles flicker and vanish a couple of times. Needing to move, he grabbed his things and changed out of his uniform. He clicked his locker shut and woke up the screen once more. She’d replied.
On my way to pick you up. I need a devoted servant for a special errand.
At least it didn't sound serious. She wouldn't tease him like that if something were wrong, right? Wait—was she picking him up at the club or at his place? For a second, he froze beside his car.
Going to keep me in suspense?
Yes, came the reply.
Are you picking me up at the club or at my place?
Another pause as the typing bubbles kept him waiting.
Club. Be there soon. xx
It didn't take twenty minutes for Isabella’s ride to pull up to the staff parking entrance. Brandon definitely hadn't pictured her behind the wheel of a sleek black SUV. It only stoked his desire to uncover more about her.
“Come on, hop in.”
He obeyed, sliding into the passenger seat, the luxury interior delivering a quiet slap in the face compared to his beat-up Ford. He caught sight of a high-end gift bag in the back, but other than that, the car was spotless, smelling like it had rolled off the showroom floor that morning.
Isabella held his gaze for a second, a playful smirk dancing on her lips as if she were mulling something over. Then, with a slow nod, she hooked a hand around the nape of his neck and drew him into a deep, lingering kiss.
“I’m glad to see you too.” She arched an eyebrow at him, clearly waiting for something more. “Mistress,” he added.
“You know I’m sweeter than Amanda. But you still answer to me, honey.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
That seemed to satisfy her. She stepped on the gas, wheeling the SUV around toward the club gates. “You know… I was seriously tempted to pick you up at your place. I’m curious to see how you live.”
“It’s really nothing special.”
“Doesn't matter! I want to get to know you better.”
Brandon glanced around the rich leather interior, feeling instantly out of his depth. There was no way his cramped apartment would look remotely impressive or inviting to someone like Isabella. Still, he forced the insecurity down, pushing the thought away.
“So, where are we heading? Is this like a dat…”
She cleared the ornate golden gates and hit the accelerator. She was wearing high heels, her nails manicured in clean white. He couldn't wait to see her standing up in those heels. Would she be taller than him?
“Not going to finish that sentence?”
“I was going to ask if this was like a date, but I guess I got cold feet. Didn't want to make things weird if that wasn't what you had in mind.”
“Weirder than calling me Mistress and obeying like a good puppy just so you can fuck me one day?”
“Touché.”
They both chuckled, and she tapped the stereo on. A slow, moody electronic beat filled the cabin, a track he didn't recognize.
“We’re going shopping, and I need my well-behaved puppy to carry all my bags, keep close, and shower me with compliments. Who knows? If you're a really good boy, you might just get rewarded. Sound good?”
He had zero complaints. That was the deal. That was the dynamic between them, and Brandon was more than happy to cater to Isabella’s every whim.
“It’d be my absolute pleasure, Mistress.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
She veered off the highway, heading toward the upscale shopping mall in one of Narrow Creek’s wealthiest neighborhoods.
Brandon sat back, watching her drive. Her rich brown hair tumbled down in loose, cascading waves, and the gleam of gold bangles on her wrist gave her a radiant glow he hadn't seen before.
“You look beautiful.”
The compliment seemed to catch her off guard, and Brandon felt a surge of quiet triumph when a blush dusted her cheeks.
“Silly boy.”
Before long, she pulled into the parking garage, and Brandon realized he’d never actually set foot here before. Just driving past this mall from the street was enough to know it was miles above his tax bracket.
The surreal contrast hit him like a freight train the moment Isabella stepped out of the SUV, rounded the hood, and stood before him.
“I was wrong.” She was wearing tailored white trousers that perfectly complemented her tanned skin, the gold accents of her jewelry, and her heels. A pastel-orange blouse that invited the imagination of anyone who caught a glimpse of her neckline. “Beautiful doesn't cut it. You're breathtaking.”
Her manicured fingers, tipped with long white nails, caught his chin as she leaned in to press a tender kiss to his forehead.
He looked down at his plain graphic tee, faded jeans, and beat-up black Chucks. God, I really need to dress better around them.
Isabella picked up on his self-conscious discomfort immediately. She handed him her designer purse to carry, then used both hands to affectionately smooth his hair. “There. Don’t worry, honey. You’re perfect just like this.”
They rode the escalator up toward the boutiques.
Every storefront flaunted price tags that felt like personal blows to Brandon’s chest. It took a conscious effort to start tuning it out, forcing himself to stop checking the displays.
Isabella chatted casually about her day, explaining how her family was wrapped up in expanding their medical complex downtown and other business ventures.
Brandon nodded along, still struggling to find his footing in a world so wildly detached from his own reality.
“Come on, I love this one.” Isabella caught his hand, guiding him into a boutique draped in soft salmon hues and gilded accents. Leaving him to hold her purse, she browsed the racks, fingers dancing over designer pieces before plucking a few to take to the fitting room.
She politely waved off a sales associate who drifted over. Even though Brandon already knew Isabella wasn't like the arrogant snobs he dealt with at the club, seeing the easy warmth with which she declined the clerk's help still made him smile.
“You know, honey, I had to come here anyway. But then I figured it was the perfect excuse to play with you and get to know you a little better.” She flashed him a wicked wink. “What do you think? Ready to get started?”