Chapter 8
Helena met Juliana at a wine bar near her apartment later that week, and Juliana was her usual fun, bubbly self.
This wasn’t what they did, funnily enough.
They’d never socialised just the two of them, instead either happening to see each other on bigger nights out (albeit those encounters had grown to be more deliberately engineered as the months had passed) or arranging to go to one or the other’s apartment to continue Juliana’s education.
So, meeting like this was new and, after half an hour in Juliana’s company, nice. They talked about a pitch Helena had worked on earlier in the week and Juliana talked about a breakthrough in her research methodology that her supervisor had been full of praise for.
It was as Juliana poured them their second glasses that she asked.
“This is lovely, really lovely,” she said, looking intently at Helena. “But we don’t do this. What’s the story?”
Helena looked back at her. It would be easy to forget that beneath the surface Juliana was a fiercely intelligent woman, and nobody’s fool.
Eventually, she said, “I wanted to ask about us.”
Juliana nodded slowly. “Ok… big conversation.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“It should be though. Things have changed in the last couple of weeks…”
“You noticed too?” Helena asked.
“Yeah.” Juliana laughed. “That is if we’re talking about the same thing.”
“Our dynamic.” Helena checked to make sure that Juliana was nodding in agreement before continuing. “I’ve taught you everything you need to know about how to be a dominant. You’re very, very good at it.”
“As I keep saying, good teacher.”
Helena tried not to blush at the compliment and didn’t quite succeed. “You don’t need me anymore. You’re ready. That Sunday in the alley told me that, and Friday proved it.”
“Are you sure, though? There’s so much I don’t know yet.”
“You’re a natural, a complete natural. The rest you need to discover for yourself. Besides, I can’t teach you because…” Helena trailed off, shifting in her seat. Time to admit to something that she’d barely dared admit even to herself.
“Because what?” Juliana had leaned in and, for once, her expression was serious.
“Because I am normally the dominant.” Helena felt her mouth go dry at what she was about to say. “But with you I can’t be… I mean, I find myself not wanting to be.”
Juliana’s eyes had widened in surprise. “You’re saying…” She paused and started again. “You… don’t want to be the dominant, but you want to be…” She trailed off, clearly not wanting to sound presumptuous.
Helena lowered her voice to a whisper. “I don’t want to be dominant with you. I want to be submissive to you. I told you that sometimes, not often, I switch.” She paused for emphasis. “With you, I want to switch, and not just sometimes. All the time.”
“You want to be my submissive?”
“I’d… want to be, depending on what this all is.”
“Ok… that’s kind of big. I’d assumed that whatever happened you’re really the dominant one out of us two.” Juliana looked at Helena, properly looked at her. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely serious. Believe me, I don’t admit to something like that lightly. Look, for me I need to switch sometimes, not often, not often at all, but sometimes I need to remind myself what it’s like and sometimes, honestly, I just need to enjoy not having to think and being able to let go.”
Juliana nodded, thoughtful. “The submissive is the true dominant. Your whole philosophy?”
“Exactly. It takes strength to be naturally dominant and let yourself surrender.”
“I think that resonates with me. For us though… I suppose it links to a larger question.” Juliana paused, fixing her gaze on Helena. “Us.”
“Yeah. Us.” Helena let that linger.
Juliana took a sip of her wine and sat back, studying Helena for a long few moments. “Ok. Let’s have it then. What are we?”
“You first.”
“Coward.” Juliana grinned, but then she was thoughtful, turning the glass in her hand. “We’re friends who sleep together. We were teacher and student, though as you point out that’s changed now, probably for good.” She paused. “We care about each other. We’re casual.”
“And the casual part… does that genuinely work for you?”
“Genuinely, yes.” Juliana said it without hesitation. “I’m not waiting for this to become something more. I know it can’t and I don’t want it to.”
“Because of Mariana.”
“Partly. She’s my best friend and you’re her sister.
If we got serious and it went wrong, I’d lose her.
That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.” Juliana shrugged.
“And partly because I simply don’t know whether you and I would be compatible long term.
It hasn’t been that sort of thing between us.
I like what we have. It’s honest and it’s fun.
I’m learning things I couldn’t learn anywhere else. That’s enough for me.”
“It’s the same for me,” Helena said. “You matter to me… genuinely, not just as a courtesy. But I can’t offer you more than this, and it wouldn’t be right to pretend otherwise.”
“Then we agree.” Juliana lifted her glass. “To being exactly what we are and not pretending to be anything else.”
They clinked glasses and something inside Helena relaxed. The unspoken made spoken, the boundaries drawn in pen rather than pencil.
“But I suppose the reason I wanted to talk about all of this,” Helena said after she’d finished sipping her wine, “is so that we’re clear on other people. If one of us dates someone.”
“You’re dating someone?” Juliana didn’t seem jealous, simply curious.
“No,” Helena said. “But I might. Same for you?”
“I’m happy being free, single and casual for now.”
“You should try it. See if you can find someone who’s looking for an immensely fun, stunningly beautiful, and breathtakingly dominant woman to rule them exquisitely.
” Helena smiled as she saw Juliana blush at her description.
“Dating’s different as a dominant or a submissive, there’s a lot more to be careful about, but it can be so much better as a result. ”
“Now that I’ll need your guidance on. How about a deal? Casual stays casual between us, but both of us promise that if we want to pause it because we’re seeing someone then we’re honest with each other. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Good.” Juliana looked at Helena for a long few moments, a smile playing at the edges of her mouth. “What you were saying earlier. About,” she raised her eyebrows, “being my submissive. You meant that?”
“Genuinely. You’re such a natural dominant, and you bring so much fun to it.”
Juliana thought about it. “I’d like to explore doing that with you, casually, but I think you’re right about dating.” She looked at Helena and grinned. “Where do I even start with that?”
Helena laughed. “That, I can help with. Are you on any of the apps?”
“No. Not the more specialist ones.”
“Then give me your phone. We’ve got until the end of this bottle to get you set up with a killer set of profiles…”
***
The weeks until Miami passed quickly. Helena’s work was busy, a mix of the usual day-to-day and planning for the conference.
In theory, Helena was only expected to turn up at the partner conference and meet people.
In theory. In practice, she was treating it like a military operation, planning in detail with the S?o Paulo partners who she needed to meet, which sessions she needed to attend, what she needed to do to prove that she deserved to be there along with everyone else.
The goal wasn’t to attend the conference and come back with some fun memories. It was to attend the conference and make it so blindingly obvious to everyone who mattered that she deserved to be there that next year’s invite was a no-brainer.
When she wasn’t working, Helena’s social life was its usual level of hectic, not to mention fun.
She saw Juliana a couple of times, both times ‘accidentally’ being out in the same place and ending the night leaving together.
One of those nights she caught Isabella flashing a knowing grin at Mariana and Mariana rolling her eyes in exasperation, but neither Helena nor Juliana minded…
particularly an hour later when Helena found herself bound, helpless, marvelling at quite how incredible a dominant Juliana was becoming.
By that point Helena really couldn’t have cared less what her sister or her best friend thought about it all.
Helena was walking home the morning after the second of those nights, the Saturday morning before the conference, enjoying the cooler morning air and the neighbourhood starting to wake up around her, when her phone buzzed.
She saw the alert on her watch and her heart nearly stopped.
Gatinha.
Caitlin’s name in her contact list, the name Helena had given her during that crazy week in Houston. Gatinha. This magnificently commanding and dominant woman turned into a playful kitten in Helena’s presence.
Helena couldn’t get her phone out of her bag fast enough.
Hey Helena. Hope you’re well. I saw from the attendee list that you’ll be at the conference next week. Congratulations on the invite, that’s a big deal. I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink after the welcome dinner on the first night? Would be great to catch up properly. Caitlin x
Helena stared at her phone.
She read the message again. And again. And one more time, just to make absolutely certain that the words said what she thought they said.
I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink.
Would be great to catch up properly.
Caitlin x
A kiss. A single x at the end, casual, friendly, the sort of thing people added to messages without thinking. Or the sort of thing they added very deliberately, knowing exactly what it signalled.
Helena’s hands were shaking. She stopped in the street in the shade of a tree as the people around her carried on with their Saturday mornings, oblivious to how Helena’s whole world had just tilted on its axis.
Caitlin had reached out. After all those months, Caitlin had initiated contact. Not about work. Not professional pleasantries. A drink. Just the two of them. Catching up properly.
Don’t read too much into it. She could practically hear what Isabella would say. It’s a drink at a conference. Colleagues do this. It doesn’t have to mean anything. She might just want to catch up professionally.
But Caitlin could have caught up with Helena at the reception, in the sessions, over coffee between panels. She didn’t need to suggest a private drink after the welcome dinner. She’d specifically carved out time, just for them out of all the people that would be there.
Or she’s being friendly. She’s a partner now, she knows you’re attending, she’s being collegial. Don’t build castles on a text message.
Helena lifted her phone again and looked at the message.
Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard. She needed to reply, and she needed to reply in a way that was warm but not desperate, enthusiastic but not over-eager, a tone that said I’d love to without revealing that her heart was attempting to escape through her ribcage.
And the x at the end… that had to mean something.
That couldn’t be how Caitlin would message a subordinate, surely?
And if it was professional she’d have sent an email, wouldn’t she?
She typed, deleted, typed again, deleted again. Finally:
Hey Caitlin! Great to hear from you, and thank you, I’m really looking forward to the conference. A drink sounds perfect, I’d love to catch up. See you there! Helena x
She read it back. Was the exclamation mark too much? Was “I’d love to” too keen? Should she have matched Caitlin’s single x with a single x or was adding one of her own mirroring Caitlin too obviously?
You are a twenty-five-year-old professional woman agonising over punctuation. Send the message.
She hit send.
The blue ticks appeared almost immediately. Caitlin had seen it.
The typing indicator appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Helena held her breath.
Great! Looking forward to it. It’s been far too long. See you next week C x
Helena read it five times.
It’s been far too long.
Helena read those five words over and over, turning them around in her mind. It’s been far too long. Said casually, the way anyone might say it to a colleague they hadn’t seen in a while. Or said with meaning, an acknowledgment that nine months of silence had been nine months too many.
She put her phone in her bag and realised that she was grinning like an idiot, right there in the street in last night’s clothes.
It’s been far too long.
Only a few days to go until Miami, and Helena wanted to stop right there in the street and sing with joy because for the first time in months she allowed herself to feel something that she’d been trying very hard not to. Something that Isabella would counsel against.
Hope.