Page 19 of Delicious Surrender
It must be hard to be treated like a sex object.Not that I would know how that feels.
“Listen, I intend to keep out of his way. Which means I do my job; I watch and learn.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “I think he’s just waiting for me to fuck up, so I get my ass whooped.”
Jared laughed so loudly that a couple walking by turned and stared at them. He gave them a withering look, and they quickly turned away. “Hon, you better be ready. There is a very good chance you’ll get your you-know-whatwhooped.” He laughed again, this time putting his hand over his mouth.
“Stop! I’m trying not to think about that. But really, it felt like he grudgingly gave me the job and doesn’t trust me at all. He was so surprised by the letter from Patricia, I swear he thought I’d forged it.”
“That is Master Gage. He’s suspicious as fuck. He has to be, to keep the club and its members secure. They pay him a ton ofmoney to have a safe place to play.”
“That’s another thing.” Brynne wrinkled her nose. “Do I have to call him that?”
“I sure would. All the staff who do scenes show him that respect. Didn’t he tell you how to address him?”
“Nope. He never properly introduced himself and I avoided it by calling him ‘sir.’” Brynne filled him in on the klutzy fall she took in his office. Jared laughed and asked if she saw the kinky magazines in the waiting room.
“Yes! How did you know? Did you see them when you interviewed?”
“Yup. The room has a two-way mirror, and they video all the candidates while they wait.”
“What?! You’re joking?” Her mind played back that day and her hand went to her mouth.
“Bill, the head bartender, told me. He saw it on the computer screen in Garrick’s office.” He stared at her ashen face. “What did you do in there, Bree?”
“Oh, nothing really,” she said, dropping her head in her hands. “Just talked smack about the boss while trying to calm my nerves. Then I power posed in front of the mirror. Christ, I may get fired before I even start!”
He patted her hand. “Don’t worry. If he wasn’t watching it live, it’s not likely he will go back to find it.”
That information did not quell her nerves.
“Shit, I have to get back, and we don’t want you to be lateeither. Mustn’t give Margaret a reason to spank your bum!”
“You’re hilarious,” she said, rolling her eyes. “She would probably jump at the chance.”
On the walk back, Brynne asked if he would come to the seamstress with her after work, but he had a date, so she went on her own.
Sonya was very pleasant, and she put Brynne at ease. After measuring the usual body parts, she took down the circumference of her neck, wrists, thighs, and ankles.
“What do they need those for?”
“We take those to make you a set of cuffs and a collar, dear. We have many different outfits depending on the type of party Master Gage is hosting.”
“Of course, how silly of me.” She gritted her teeth at the thought of calling him that. It was bad enough she was on videotape calling him a mean motherfucker. It would not be good to tell Sonya what she thought of the king of douche-dom.
“I will have your weeknight uniforms ready by Thursday. That’s your first shift, right?”
Brynne chewed her bottom lip. “Yes. I don’t know how I’ll make it on time if I have to stop here first.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll have them delivered to the club.”
Sonya handed her a list of instructions about the outfits, which were never to be worn outside the club. They would be dry cleaned and replaced in her locker for the next shift. From what she could see, the French maid’s outfit seemed reasonable. What worried her were thespecialoutfits they created for the fetishparties. She thanked Sonya and cursed Gage as she made her way to the train.
Thursday sucked. Margaret gave her an article to fact-check at four thirty p.m. so she was late leaving the paper. She claimed Nigel asked for her specifically, but Brynne wondered. She got it done and delivered the thumb drive back to the dragon lady’s empty desk. It took ten minutes to get a taxi because it was pouring, and her umbrella was lying on the floor under her desk.
At 5:55 p.m., she rang the buzzer. The imperious voice of her favorite butler came through the intercom. “Staff must use the rear entrance.”
“Miles, I will be late because I don’t know where that is. Please, can you let me in? I won’t use this door ever again.”
“Not possible, miss. Walk to the corner, two buildings west, make a right at Bedford, and follow the lane to the black awning. Take the steps down to the employee entrance and ring the bell.”