CHAPTER 4
EDGE
“The entire room needs to be redone,” I clarified, speaking directly to the three men and two women standing before me. “When you’re finished, it’ll look like this.”
I passed over the iPad, the screen reflecting the redesign of what was now a posh bedroom, transforming it into a living room you’d find in an elegant, upscale home.
Considering I spent Mondays at the club, taking advantage of the fact that it was closed, I generally handled any major changes at that point.
Since I’d received the new plans from Sierra late yesterday, I figured today would be a good time to tackle the project.
Sierra Ackerley-McCoy was Trent Ramsey’s trusted designer for his clubs.
She was also the wife of Luke McCoy and Cole Ackerley-McCoy, the owners of a fetish club known as Devotion down in Texas, and close friends with Trent.
My boss utilized Sierra’s skills when it came to designing his varied theme rooms at his clubs.
And since he insisted on having frequent changes made, I’d hired a team who took care of that for me, led by Deirdre Sloane, a personal friend.
She was also in design, and when she worked with Sierra, they tended to come up with some rather interesting selections, namely in conversion furniture, the term they’d given to items that could be converted from standard furniture into hedonistic bondage equipment.
“If you have any questions,” I explained to Deirdre, “just call Sierra.”
“Of course, Edge,” Deirdre said. “I heard a rumor Trent’ll be converting the Wild West room next.”
My thoughts drifted back to Friday night, to a scene that played out in that very room. This one innocent, aside from the wicked thoughts I’d had while talking to Jamie Lautner in that room.
“That’s the rumor,” I replied. “But until the plans come through, it stays the same.”
“Got it.”
While Deirdre and her team focused on clearing out the current furniture and equipment, I headed down to the main floor.
I was expecting an electrician to arrive to make a few changes to the Doms’ lounge.
Another of Trent’s requests. The man was constantly updating this space, coming up with new ideas he expected me to implement.
And since he paid me a more than decent salary to manage this place, I did his bidding without question.
“Well, don’t you look spiffy?”
As I stepped off the last step and onto the main floor, I gave a distracted glance in the direction of the voice.
“Thanks for coming in, Cambria.” I made a beeline for the bar. “The electrician should be here momentarily. I have to run, but I’ll try to be back before he’s finished.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said in that always calm tone of hers.
Cambria Manning had been, for lack of a better term, my assistant for the past year.
Although it wasn’t an official job title, she was the one person I could rely on to handle club issues when I was needed elsewhere.
Had it not been for the fact she was a submissive, I figured she could run this place as well as, if not better than, I did.
However, Master status at the club was required for my role; therefore, she was relegated to simply assisting.
“Are you meeting with a client?” she asked, making her way toward me.
“Yeah.” I glanced up, caught a good look at her, and smiled. “Talk about spiffy.”
“This old thing?” She peered down at herself. “This is my Monday-morning, have-to-be-in-court-first-thing outfit.”
After making my way out from behind the bar, I headed toward the maintenance closet. “Sometimes I have a hard time believing you’re a judge.”
Cambria laughed, a sweet sound. “It’s only hard to imagine when I’m naked and laid out while some Dom beats on me.”
“True.” I’d played with Cambria on occasion, but never sexually. For whatever reason, the two of us had always kept that distance between us. Since we worked together, it made sense, although I don’t think either of us had planned it that way.
I returned with a set of keys, passed them over.
“Deirdre and her team are upstairs. They’re remodeling the bedroom.”
“What’s it turning into now?”
“A fancy living room.”
“Oooh. I can’t wait to see that.” She clapped her hands with glee.
“I do love seeing what Trent comes up with when it comes to ordinary household rooms. Then again, most of us aren’t as privileged as he is.
My bedroom definitely isn’t as decadent as the one he had designed.
” She turned on her heel, followed me toward the scanning area.
“Do you think his house is equipped like that? All the hidden torture devices and bondage equipment?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.”
“Is yours?” she inquired.
Her question had me pulling up short. “Actually, no.”
“Really?” She sounded sincerely surprised.
“Really.”
“Why not?” Cambria stood back as I stepped into the reception area, rummaged through the desk drawer.
I took a seat in the chair, pulled the drawer out farther. “Never had time.”
“Hmm.”
I stopped my search and stared up at her. “What does that mean?”
She shrugged. “I just figured you for the type of Dom who was ready for anything.”
“Yeah, well. Too much on my plate to worry about that.”
“By that, are you referring to a personal life?”
I pushed the drawer back in, pulled out another. “There it is,” I muttered.
After grabbing a stack of blank RFID cards that we used for membership IDs, I closed the drawer and got to my feet.
I held them out to Cambria. “The training roster for the upcoming class is on my desk in my office. Can you please get these done? They’ll be here for orientation tomorrow night, and I’d like to have them ready.”
“Sure.” She took the cards. “You ignored my question.”
“What question was that?” I asked, making my way back toward the stairs.
“Your personal life.”
I waved her off as I started up. “No time for that. Too busy.”
Cambria laughed behind me. “I’ll just wait for the electrician.”
I simply nodded, preoccupied with my never-ending to-do list. I was meeting a client at one for a formal lunch meeting, and I was already running behind.
I’d been hoping for a few minutes to go over my presentation.
Unfortunately, there never seemed to be enough time in the day, so something was always pushed aside.
Good thing for everyone, I was good under pressure.
“Hey, Edge?” Deirdre called out as I was rounding the landing to head up to the third floor. “I had to requisition a piece of equipment from Dallas. I called Dylan. He’s getting it handled. Should be here by Wednesday.”
“Great.” I kept walking. Deirdre was used to my distraction, so she wouldn’t take it personally.
I trusted her to get things done, and she worked well with Dylan Thomas and his wife, Sara.
They managed Dichotomy’s Dallas location and were valuable assets when it came to getting things done with minimal issue or cost.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, glanced at it as I stepped into my office. It was the alarm I’d set to remind me I had to leave. Tucking it back into my slacks, I grabbed my planner and was starting to rummage around for my iPad when I heard footsteps behind me.
“Looking for this?”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Deirdre holding out my iPad.
“Actually, yes.”
I took it from her hand, slid it into the planner, and took a deep breath.
“Relax, Edge. You look tense.”
I inhaled slowly, exhaled deeply. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
She chuckled as she turned and left. “You always say that.”
I started for the stairs again. “I always mean it, too.”
That was the way I rolled. The more pressure, the better I handled myself.
The story of my life.
Jamie
When Tiffany called last night, I promised to meet her at the mall today for lunch. Since she spent every extra minute working at one of the hip clothing stores, we’d gotten used to sitting in the food court and scarfing down chicken sandwiches while sharing French fries and a chocolate shake.
“I want to hear all about the club. What was it like?” Tiffany blurted the instant my butt touched the hard wooden seat.
“Nice.”
Tiffany stared at me, disbelief making her eyes wide, her mouth hang open.
“Nice? That’s all you’ve got?” She feigned hurt and disappointment as she rummaged through the paper sack, pulling out the French fries.
“You go to the hottest BDSM club in the nation and you describe it as nice.” Big blue eyes latched onto my face.
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
I laughed, unwrapping my sandwich. I had to be back at school shortly, so I had to be efficient.
“Fine. Tell me about him, then. What was he like?”
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “He was … Dom-like.”
My friend burst out in laughter, drawing the attention of everyone around us. I rolled my eyes, ignored all those curious gazes now shifting our way.
“Dom-like, she says,” Tiffany muttered as she lifted her sandwich to her mouth, pinning me with a glare.
It was my turn to laugh, but I did so discreetly. “Fine. He was nice. We toured the dungeon first.”
Her eyes widened again. “Does it look like a real dungeon?”
“It does.”
“Were there naked people?”
“There were.”
“Was some woman getting spanked?”
Before I answered, I cast a quick look at the tables closest to us, ensuring there weren’t any little kids close enough to overhear.
“She was,” I confirmed, grinning as I looked back at my friend.
“I knew it.” She dropped her sandwich, grabbed the shake.
Tiffany Lortimer was one of my two closest friends in the world. For the most part, we were inseparable. Between her and Jonah, I had absolutely no secrets.
Her voice was strangely soft when she asked, “Are you still a virgin?”
I couldn’t help it. I blushed.