Page 31 of XX Love Affair
“You could have told me to leave, and I would have.”
“You’ve got to be kidding… for one thing, I never asked you to…”
“Helena.” It was strange hearing her first name and not her surname out of her coach’s mouth. For two years, Helena had heard this woman scream Pierce as if her entire collegiate career counted on it. Yet here Coach Morgan was, going out of her way to speak to Helena and hooking her up with a trite job to ensure she was okay. There was a part of Helena that appreciated it. And another part of her that wanted to scream at Brynn to get the hell away from her. What right does she have… acting like she cares…
Helena shouldn’t trust her for the same reasons she shouldn’t trust her mother. They both knew too many truths. Perhaps Brynn knew more than Helena’s mother. If my mom knew what I did on the weekends…
“You let me know if you’re in trouble, all right?” Brynn stood up. “I mean it. You do what you’ve got to do, but don’t think you have to navigate things by yourself. Independence is one thing. Stubbornness for the sake of it is quite another.”
“Thanks for the lesson, teach.”
Brynn cracked a smile. “I’ve gotta head out. See you around, Pierce.”
There it was. That sounded much better.
Chapter 11
If there was one thing Delia looked forward to all week, it was taking Helena out again.
They had barely spoken during the weekdays, only exchanging short texts to confirm plans. A couple of flirtatious selfies appeared in Delia’s ChatSnap. Enough to entice her to forget about her work for a few minutes and escape into her three encounters with her new partner.
A simple date that weekend would not do. While on break at work, Delia perused the event calendars at the regional clubs she frequented and discovered that the most exclusive one in New York was hosting a VIP ladies’ night. I qualify as a VIP, right? Sometimes, she wasn’t sure, although she touted herself as one wherever she went. Delia Benoist had connections, money, and favors owed to her in every major city, but she wasn’t such hot shit that club managers bowed to her whim when she walked through the door with her latest honey on her arm. A regular ladies’ night would get her in. VIP? She might have to call in a favor of her own.
But only if Helena was game for a weekend in the Big Apple.
“I love New York. Especially the nightlife,” she replied.
“What do you love about it?”
All Delia received was a risqué selfie of Helena touching herself in her hotel room. She supposed that answered the question.
“Hel-lo, sweetheart,” she cooed into her phone once someone picked up her call. “I trust that I’m not bothering you, am I, Whitfield?”
She knew she was always one of the last women Mira Whitfield wanted to talk to, but Delia’s old college classmate (and tenant, since one could not forget) never hesitated to answer her calls. “Not really. What is it?”
So snippy. That was Mira’s style, all right. It’s what makes her an excellent Domme. “Are you by chance attending this weekend’s VIP party in New York?”
Mira must have been too blindsided by the question to promptly answer. “I’ve been invited. Why?”
“Because my new girlfriend wants to go, and I need an in. I’m calling in one of my favors, Whitfield.”
Mira grumbled something that Delia couldn’t quite understand. She must love me so much! Delia wasn’t stupid. As she sat in her office at The Boyle Group, she was instantly reminded that she had once bought Mira’s childhood home and held it over her head, like the kind of soap opera villainess who rubbed her palms together and cackled like they were back in the sorority house from hell. Fun ribbing between sisters! Mira had since bought her house back from Delia. She still had to work, but Delia respected the professional Domme for her hustle.
“I’m not sure what kind of party you think it is,” Mira eventually said, clearer. “It’s an invite-only VIP party for former winners of the Summit and other well-known performers on the circuit. And some who do behind-the-scenes private parties for fun. It’s where we get together to talk shop and blow off some steam with other women who aren’t inhibited.”
“Surely, you’re not implying that I’m inhibited, darling.”
“No, I’m implying you don’t belong there, Benoist.”
“I promise I won’t try to seduce your Blair while I’m there. I’m preoccupied by my new fling, anyway.” Although that hadn’t stopped Delia before. Especially with Blair in the room. Helena understands. She even implied she wouldn’t mind slipping her face between that pair of tits for herself.
“It’s like you don’t even speak English. You’re not on the circuit, and I doubt your new girlfriend is, either.”
“She’s a big fan.”
“Come off it. Why do you really want to go to the party? To torture me?”
“Believe it or not, you’re the least of my interest. I only want to show my new girlfriend what kind of shit we get up to in New York.”