Chapter 10
Dear me/ journal/ god.
What a terrible weekend.
I had so many things planned but it rained the whole time and the power even went out on Saturday so me and Loch Ness got so bored that we invented another game. I’m going to start keeping track of these so I don’t forget any of them when I start my gaming company later.
“No.”
Dominic’s grin was downright sinister as he placed the sealed package on the kitchen counter. “We’ve already had this argument, Lice. It’s officially part of your uniform.”
“I’m not going to wear a leash.”
“Then forfeit.”
I crossed my arms, fixing him with a bored glare as my mind raced, trying to find a way out of this. “No part of Rosie’s old uniform was degrading, Dominic. Tit for tat, remember?”
“Four days ago, a man spat on my face because of a rumor you started. Don’t talk to me about what you think is or isn’t degrading.”
“And as a consequence, you’ve spent four days working me like a dog, scrutinizing my every move, and timing my bathroom breaks. I’d call that even, wouldn’t you?”
I’d scrubbed every surface of this house twice over, polished three hundred pieces of silverware he’d ordered specifically for that purpose, unclogged a toilet he’d stuffed with shredded stems and flowers, buffed every shoe he owned, steamed his every suit, and built a handful of furniture while he hovered over me, making snide remarks every time I had to refer back to the manuals.
“It’s a picture book, Lice. It really shouldn’t be that hard for you to follow. ”
There had been no real breaks. No sitting. No lunch. Nothing but barked orders and neurotic scrutiny from the fork-tongued demon gorging himself on my misery.
Every time I’d so much as paused to wipe the sweat off my forehead, he’d snapped at me to get back to work, “and chop chop, little plague, you’re running out of time, and a new task just made the list.”
Suffice to say, I was exhausted, sore, and my patience was wearing dangerously thin.
Dominic nudged the leash toward me. “And that’s not going to change, so why not dress the part, seeing as how you’re going to continue working like a dog?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek, thinking, thinking, thinking. He wanted me to forfeit. That’s what this was all about. He wanted me to refuse, quit, and walk away so he could move on with his life.
But here’s the thing. When someone’s hovering over you for fourteen hours a day, it becomes pretty easy to pick up on recurring behavioral patterns. Especially if you’re paying attention.
So I knew, for example, that my presence was causing a rather inconvenient ripple effect across at least two major sectors of his life: work and relationships. He’d stupidly banked on me not lasting a day in this role and hadn’t thought to prepare for any “what-ifs.”
There’d been phone calls taken in adjacent rooms. Hushed apologies.
Promises to make up for his absence. Redelegation of projects.
A few somethings about a merger he was supposed to be overseeing.
And a thirty-minute call made every day at 1:00 p.m. that included more listening than talking and always ended with a quiet “love you, bye.”
Rosie, I assumed.
His was a personality only a mother could love.
I’d have felt bad about the havoc I was wreaking on his professional life if he hadn’t spent fifteen months meticulously decimating mine.
Needing to buy myself more time to think, I picked up the sealed collar and leash. It was, as expected, an utter abomination. The collar was thick, hard, made from cheap pleather, and the demonstrative photos on the back of the package were upsettingly graphic.
“My assistant had to pick it up from a local fetish store,” Dom explained casually. “It’s the only one that guarantees chafing. And proudly, I might add.”
I tossed it back onto the counter and crossed my arms. “Okay, here’s the thing. There’s no way I’m willing to give you the win over this, so if those are my only options, I’ll wear the collar.”
“Great. I’ll help you put it on.” He looked so smug, thinking he had me cornered.
“I know you think I’m bluffing,” I said, resting a hip against the counter.
“And I know you think that, even if I do follow through, I’ll last a handful of hours at most before cutting it off.
But you’ve been wrong in almost every one of your assumptions about me so far, and this isn’t going to be any different.
So let me say it again: if those are my only options, I’m choosing the collar.
I’ll wear it the entire time I’m here. I’ll wear it until my skin is raw.
I’ll wear it until I’m bleeding. And it won’t move the needle the way you think.
You’re still going to be stuck with me for a hell of a lot longer than either of us wants. ”
Slowly, the smug little smirk started to wipe from his face, doubt seeping in.
“But given my own preferences for not bleeding, I’m willing to compromise.”
He actually laughed at that, though there was no amusement in it. “I don’t think you’re in any position to—”
“I’ll play you for it,” I interrupted smoothly.
“If I win, the leash goes down the garbage disposal, the mandatory uniform clause will be stripped from our agreement, and I get the rest of the day off. If you win, I forfeit and write out whatever confession you want. In theory, this nightmare could be over, and we’ll be free to move on with our lives in less than an hour. ”
I couldn’t have laid out a more tempting bait. And he couldn’t have taken it any faster.
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah. I really don’t want to suffer through three weeks of constant chafing.”
The outer corners of his eyes crinkled with slight suspicion. “What game?”
I shrugged. “The same one we’ve always used to settle a stalemate.”
He continued to study me, trying to locate the trap. But for once, there wasn’t one. I just really didn’t want to wear the collar or strap myself to a leash.
I waited.
Then, after a fully breathless minute of holding my gaze, Dominic held out his fist.
A flutter sprinted through my stomach, bringing with it a sudden and unexpected urge to smile. I stamped it down. Bunched my own hand into a ball and held it out.
We moved at the same time. “One, two, three, strike.”
Dominic’s mouth quirked as his finger gun shot my shadow puppet in the face, granting him the coveted head start.
He was going to be so pissed when I ended up winning anyway.