Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
LOTTIE
The week crawled by at an excruciating pace. Every morning I woke up thinking it was Friday, only to be disappointed when I realized I had another day—or two, or three—before we'd visit the Sandbox.
I sat at my desk Wednesday night, chewing on my lower lip as I stared at spreadsheets that had long since blurred into meaningless numbers. My stomach was a knot of anticipation and nerves. The club. The place my three Daddies had built together. The place where I'd finally meet others like me.
Like us.
"You're going to gnaw that lip raw if you keep that up."
I jumped, nearly knocking over my coffee mug. Ashlei stood in the doorway, one eyebrow raised as she leaned against the frame.
"Jesus, you scared me." I pressed a hand to my racing heart. "What are you still doing here? It's nearly eight."
"I could ask you the same question." She sauntered into my office, plopping down in the chair opposite my desk. "You've been staring at that same spreadsheet for twenty minutes without scrolling."
I blinked. "You've been watching me?"
"Someone's gotta make sure you don't work yourself to death." She gestured at the pile of files beside me. "What's going on? You've been distracted all week. And don't try to tell me it's work-related because I know your calendar better than you do."
I sighed, pushing away from my desk. Ashlei had been my assistant for months now, and in that time, she'd become something more. Not quite a friend yet—the professional boundaries were still there—but definitely a trusted ally.
"I'm just... nervous about Friday," I admitted.
"Hot date with your three studs?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Some fancy restaurant where dinner costs more than my rent?"
I laughed despite myself. "Not exactly a restaurant."
"Ooh, mysterious." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "Come on, spill it. What's got you all twisted up like this? You're practically vibrating with anxiety."
Something in her tone—genuine concern beneath the teasing—made me pause. When was the last time I'd had a female friend I could talk to about... well, any of this? My relationship with three men. My Little tendencies. My fears.
"We're going somewhere I've never been before," I said carefully, testing the waters. "Somewhere important to them."
"Uh-huh." She nodded, encouraging me to continue.
"It's just—I want to fit in. I want to belong there, with them, in their space." The words tumbled out faster now. "And what if I don't? What if I'm too awkward or I say the wrong thing or—"
"Lottie." Ashlei's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Those men look at you like you hung the moon and stars. Trust me, wherever you're going, you already belong."
I twisted my fingers together, picking at my cuticles. "It's not that simple."
"It never is." She studied me for a moment, her eyes gentle. "Listen, whatever's got you wound up, I'm sure it'll be fine. Those three worship the ground you walk on. Anyone with eyes can see that."
"I know." I took a deep breath, deciding to take a risk. "We're going to a club. A... special kind of club."
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't react otherwise. "Special how?"
"It's called The Sandbox," I said, watching her face carefully. "It's a private—"
The change was immediate. Ashlei's entire face lit up, her professional composure momentarily forgotten as she bounced in her chair. "Scarlet Rose? Oh my god, you're going to Scarlet Rose?"
I blinked, stunned. "No, The Sandbox—it's part of the Scarlet Rose complex, but it's separate—"
"Oh my god." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper despite us being alone in the office.
"I knew they were Daddies! I told Jace they had that vibe!
The way Mr. Volkov watches you like he's cataloging your every move?
And Mr. Wulf with those little touches when he thinks no one's looking?
" She smacked the desk. "And Professor Silver Fox? Come on."
My jaw dropped. I stared at her, unable to form words as my brain tried to process what was happening. "You... what... how do you—"
"Oh, honey." She reached across the desk to pat my hand. "The community isn't that big, especially here in Portland. I've been going to Scarlet Rose for years. Not the Sandbox—I'm not a Little—but the main club."
I was frozen, my heart thundering in my chest. "You're in the lifestyle?"
"Scene veteran, five years running." She grinned. "Submissive switch, leaning dominant with newer partners. Jace and I have an open dynamic—he's my primary Dom, but we play with others occasionally."
"Jace is your..." I trailed off, struggling to reconcile this new information with the professional assistant I'd worked alongside for months.
"Fiancé. Dom. Pain-in-my-ass sometimes." She laughed. "He works in IT for that biotech firm downtown. You'd like him."
"I had no idea." My voice was faint.
"That's kind of the point, isn't it?" Her expression softened. "We don't exactly advertise it during job interviews. 'Hi, I'm Ashlei, I organize files by day and get spanked at a BDSM club on weekends!'"
A surprised laugh burst from my throat. The tension that had been building in my shoulders all week suddenly eased.
"How did you know about Kaleb and Andrei?" I asked. "We've been so careful."
"Please." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "The way they look at you? Pure Daddy energy. Especially Mr. Volkov—sorry, Andrei. That man radiates 'strict Daddy Dom' vibes like it's his cologne."
I couldn't help but giggle. She wasn't wrong.
"And Colby—the professor? I've seen him at Scarlet Rose a few times. Always observing from the sidelines, never participating. The voyeur type."
Heat flooded my cheeks. Again, not wrong.
Ashlei leaned forward, her expression turning serious. "Lottie, The Sandbox is amazing. I've never been inside—like I said, not a Little—but everyone talks about it. It's supposed to be the gold standard for Littles and their caregivers. Safe, supportive, beautiful spaces."
"Really?" Hope fluttered in my chest.
"Really." She squeezed my hand. "And your guys? They're respected members of the community. Known for being ethical, responsible Doms who treat their partners with respect."
The knot in my stomach loosened further.
"I've been so nervous," I admitted. "I've never been to a club before. I'm still new to all of this. What if I embarrass them? What if I don't know the right protocol or—"
"Stop." Ashlei's tone was firm. "First of all, there's no 'right' way to be a Little.
You're you, and that's exactly who they want.
Second, The Sandbox is specifically designed for people in your dynamic.
It's not some hardcore dungeon where you'll be judged for not knowing the exact formality of address for a Dominant third-cousin twice removed. "
I snorted, and she grinned.
"It's a safe space, Lottie. A place where you can be yourself—your whole self—without judgment. Where you can meet others who understand what you need and why you need it."
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. "That sounds..."
"Perfect?" she supplied.
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
"It is." She rose from her chair, circling the desk to pull me into a tight hug. "And you're going to love it. Just like they love you."
I hugged her back fiercely, overwhelmed by the unexpected connection. When she pulled away, I wiped at my eyes.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For understanding. For not judging."
"Are you kidding? This is the best news ever!" She bounced on her toes. "Now I have someone to talk shop with besides Jace. Speaking of—" She glanced at her watch and winced. "I'm supposed to meet him for dinner in twenty minutes. I need to go."
"Of course, go!" I waved her toward the door. "I should be heading out too."
She paused at the doorway, turning back with a mischievous smile. "If you want, I can tell you all about the club before Friday. The dress code, the protocols—not that you'll need to worry much with three Daddies escorting you, but still. Knowledge is power, right?"
"I'd like that," I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it.
"Tomorrow lunch, then. My treat." She winked. "And Lottie? You're going to be amazing. Just be yourself."
With that, she was gone, leaving me alone in my office with a head spinning from our conversation and a heart considerably lighter than it had been all week.
I reached for my phone, a giddy smile spreading across my face as I texted our group chat.
Me: Guess who just found out her assistant is a lifestyle veteran who goes to Scarlet Rose regularly?
The response was immediate, three dots appearing from all three men at once. I laughed, imagining their faces as they processed this development.
For the first time since Andrei announced our Friday plans, excitement outweighed my anxiety.
I wasn't alone in this. I had my three Daddies, of course—but now I had a friend who understood too.
Friday couldn't come fast enough.