Chapter 35
The Town Car meandered down the hilly roads toward the city, carrying Jamie and her silent ensemble.
She repeatedly touched up her makeup and hair in her compact while the driver long learned that idle conversation was not happening that day.
Jamie didn’t want to come off as rude, so she scribbled a note saying that her voice wasn’t well. Worked for Beatrice.
Etta had texted that she should come down to the office after lunch. “I have a meeting that I would like you to sit in on.” Jamie didn’t know what that meant but went along with it.
The car pulled up to the curb in front of the Thompson-Coleman building.
A spot that only the haughty highbrows got to use.
So, women like Etta… and me. Jamie stepped out with the front attendant’s help, who cheerily greeted her and asked if there was anything he could do.
Jamie shook her head and headed inside, trying not to drown in the plush white coat Etta left for her to wear that day.
She caught her look in the elevator mirror.
She’s going to want to ravish me the moment I enter that office.
Something stirred in Jamie. Oh, no, that sounds kinda good.
She bit her lip before remembering she was wearing lipstick.
She checked it one last time in the mirror before the elevator attendant announced they had made it to the executive offices.
“Hi!” Natasha smacked her hand against her desk and grinned like it was her birthday. “You here for lunch? Because I had an awesome night last night and can’t wait to brag.”
Jamie shook her head. When Natasha gave her a quizzical look, Jamie gestured to her throat and mimicked choking to death.
“Oh… sorry. Well, she said that you were expected here and that you should go in whenever you arrived. Can’t blame a girl for trying to get a lunch date, though. Monday?”
Jamie nodded and held her hand up to her head like a phone. Once Natasha got the hint, Jamie went to Etta’s office. She had to breathe deeply before turning the handle.
She was right where Jamie expected her. Indeed, she would have thought this was another day in their lives.
Her entering. Etta at her desk, either on her computer or writing something on a piece of paper.
Sometimes, she mixed it up with a phone call, texting on her phone, or reading on her tablet.
Today, like most days, Jamie found her signing and stamping documents with nary a soul around.
Etta glanced up at her the moment the door shut. “Glad you made it.” She stood, touching one button on her jacket and straightening her collar. “You look… exactly how I imagined.”
Jamie approached her desk, putting her bag down and shedding the coat so Etta could get the full view of her outfit.
“Turn around.”
She did so, with a flourish, since she was not about to let her mind and body be completely devoid of personality, no matter what her “Mistress” said.
Now, I must look at her as such. Etta wasn’t just her fiancée. She wasn’t just her lover or her sole partner in the kink scene. She was Jamie’s Mistress. The woman who controlled her every move. The woman Jamie served.
When she looked at Etta through those eyes, she saw more than expected.
She wasn’t merely a woman, regardless of how powerful she was in reality, in business.
She was the one woman Jamie could go to whenever she needed anything.
Anything. Money? Etta was loaded. Protection?
Etta had proven herself more than capable.
Shelter? Etta’s many abodes gave Jamie choices, including options to be alone.
Sex? Etta, Etta, Etta. A wonderful and stable future?
Etta.
If that didn’t make her Jamie’s Mistress, then what the hell did?
This woman is going to make me do things today. Jamie tried not to twitch. Not out of anxiety, or fear, or dread, but out of anticipation. Okay, so maybe a little anxiety. How could she not feel any? She had no idea what to expect.
Other than to serve.
“You are absolutely stunning.” Etta dropped her pen on her desk and motioned for Jamie to come to her.
Jamie took a few easy steps around the desk and lingered, ripples of anticipation spreading through her body.
Etta wore one of her finest business suits.
Giorgio Armani was Etta’s go-to designer, whether it was business, dinner, or even “upscale casual” wear.
There was a lot to be said for a woman in a finely crafted suit…
and sparkling cufflinks and watch… and… abs beneath that shirt… and…
Shit! Was Jamie really marrying this woman? Sometimes, she forgot to get some perspective and realize that, hey, her fiancée was smoking hot, successful, and set for life! Whoops. There went the quivering knees.
Etta put her hands on Jamie’s shoulders, steadying her as an intense gaze rested on her face.
Can she see the effort I put into my makeup?
Is she pleased? Here they went. Jamie would go into a scene kicking and screaming inside, but the moment it started, she was absolutely helpless.
Etta had that power over her, truly. Okay, so don’t blow it.
That was levied both at herself and Etta.
The woman usually didn’t screw it up, but even the wrong touch or phrase could make Jamie think twice about what they were doing.
So far, so good.
“I’m glad to see you,” Etta said in that silky voice of hers. “I hope traffic wasn’t too much trouble. Sometimes it can be rough on early Friday afternoons. Everyone taking half days and heading to the countryside or going shopping.”
Jamie shook her head.
“Good. Now, I can tell that you’re burning to ask me something. Go ahead. We’re alone, so you can speak if you want right now.”
Phew. “You said in your letter something about showing how I am the perfect wife for you. What do you mean by that?”
Etta didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown, either.
At least she wasn’t going to be cheeky with her answer.
“I’ve observed a lot of couples during my time at the top.
Business associates and their wives… friends and their lovers…
both at formal functions and casual settings.
Naturally, everyone acts differently and has their own unique dynamic.
But there’s an expectation, I’ve noticed.
Expectation for how the dynamic should be.
It doesn’t have to be the truth. It could be the biggest lie in the universe, but if you can show people what they expect to see, it can be good for one’s social standing.
Even if we know the truth behind the scenes. ”
Jamie supposed she saw the point. Understanding it, however, was a different beast. She would find out soon enough.
“All right.” Etta tipped her chin up and hovered near Jamie’s lips. “I’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes here in my office. I’d love for you to sit and observe. You don’t have to do anything. Just be my beautiful fiancée so I can stop and think, ‘That’s my girl.’”
She turned away without kissing Jamie. Her thumb pressed into the intercom. “Could you come in here please, Ms. Mayfield? We need to go over the preliminary notes for my 1:30 meeting before it begins.”
“Yes, Ms. Coleman. Be right there, ma’am,” came Amanda’s voice.
“Nobody will bother you on the couch over there.” Etta pointed to her resting couch along the wall, right next to her personal bathroom. “If you need to use the restroom, do so now. It would be too disruptive during the meeting.”
Jamie wasn’t sure what was going on or how she felt about it, but she played along.
With her coat hung up and her bag secure between the couch and the wall, she freshened up in Etta’s small but comfortable bathroom and took her place in the middle of the couch.
By that time, Amanda had entered, carrying her tablet – an upgraded version of the one Jamie used to have when it was her job to take notes during Etta’s meetings.
Amanda spared Jamie a quick look. “She’ll be here during the meeting.
No worries,” Etta said. She then distracted her assistant with boring figures, diagrams, and letters from the man she was meeting in a few minutes.
Good thing it took them a while to go over everything, because the man, David Hamilton, was ten minutes late.
He sat in a chair in front of Etta while they discussed future investments.
Amanda stood behind Etta, in the customary assistant’s spot, typing quickly on her tablet while glancing between her boss and her guest. It was a regular meeting in a business setting.
The only difference? Jamie was there, doing absolutely nothing.
She hadn’t sat in on a meeting like this since she last had Amanda’s position.
Etta said that people often commented on it.
“Is that the same girl from last time? I thought she had black hair.” Or, “How’s it working out with your assistant now girlfriend?
You replacing her already?” Since the engagement, however, those comments stopped.
Suddenly, Jamie was no longer the fun long-time lay on the side.
Now she was a woman people had to pretend to respect around Etta.
Whether they thought she was a gold-digging trophy wife or not.
Jamie couldn’t help but wonder what David Hamilton thought of her if anything.
Did he think she was hot, but Etta could do better for a wife?
“Come on, Coleman, she’s hot for her 20s, but that’s not going to be a lasting beauty.
Now a supermodel, or a well-bred girl who knows how to take care of herself?
Surely you could bag one.” Bagging. That’s what men said about women.
They were bagged, like animals hunted in the forest.
Or maybe he thought she was intriguing. He might, since he kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye.