by Gina Kincade
Maggie was put off. She wasn’t sure if he was a chauvinist or just a jackass. “Gee thanks.”
She rolled her eyes and moved to leave. “I’ll see you at ten.”
His hand was on her arm as he stopped her. “We leave at ten, be here before.”
“Well this should be fun. Sure, sure...before ten. I’ll be here in time.”
As she left the club she thought to herself he may be a chauvinist, time would tell. Sure seemed to be a banner day for jackasses though.
‘Just once...’
At nine forty-five Maggie pulled into spot seventeen behind The Brickhouse. She had ID and cash in a pocket just inside the diamond cut out over the breastbone of her red leather suit. She’d looped the handle of her Cat around her left wrist and pulled her hair up in a tight Dutch. She stashed the code in the visor of the car and the door key for the Taurus in a pocket she’d discovered inside the shaft of the boot. She was as ready as she was going to be when she punched the six digits into the keypad to go in the employee entrance.
The door crashed closed behind her loudly, echoing in the mostly empty rear area. As it did Bart, Brad the doorman and a third male she didn’t remember seeing before all snapped their heads around to where she stood. Brad’s eyes flew wide and Bart’s narrowed. The third guy looked away unimpressed.
Maggie walked up to the trio thankful for the good tread on the concrete. As she approached she didn’t break eye contact with Bart, not even to blink. She used her best bored voice when she stopped in front of him.
“Will this work?”
He lifted his brows and set them back down. She half expected him to tell her to turn around for him. He didn’t. He looked her up and down slowly. His voice was dark when he spoke. “Yeah, it’ll work.”
Wendy came around the corner then, stopping dead still when she saw Maggie, gasping. “I. Have. Got. To. Get. Me. One. Of. These! It’s fabulous! Turn around for me.”
Maggie sneered a bit at Bart as she turned. “Thank you Wendy. I’ll hook you up later.”
Bart was rolling his eyes at the exchange as Maggie turned past him. “Can we go?”
Maggie rolled her eyes for Wendy’s benefit before responding. “Lead the way.”
Wendy giggled but pursed her lips to stop. “Yes. Go, go, and go.” She swatted Maggie on the behind.
The rules were a lot like Thorne’s the night they had come to The Brickhouse. The only difference was no collar to use as a crutch. Basically they were going to observe. She could do that. She’d been doing it in various settings for weeks now.
Brad tried to chat her up from the backseat. Bart told him to flirt on his own time. They were the most unusual and unlikely foursome she could imagine.
The Back Door lived up to its moniker with a nondescript entrance in a side alley. Bart dropped the three off at the curb, went to park and led them to the door after he rejoined them.
A few steps off, the door opened and several people filed out. Last in the line was Thorne. Their eyes locked. Maggie’s suit suddenly felt too tight and like it was getting smaller as Thorne looked her up and down in it. From the roots of her hair tight in the knot on her head to the tips of her boots she felt his gaze as it fell across every square inch of her. Behind his eye was an explosive burn. He was fighting several obvious battles to keep composed.
He didn’t look at anyone but her. She couldn’t tell if anyone else knew the unspoken battle that was happening between them or what they thought of the silent exchange. She couldn’t have missed it if she’d tried.
Not being fully aware of all the social etiquette involved, she didn’t know what to do. She knew him, could she, should she say something? She certainly wasn’t wearing a collar, his or anyone else’s. No one ‘owned’ her this night, and they were outside the club still. She decided to jump and let the cards fall.
“Mr. DuFoe.”
He grinned. His voice was thick and hard, but he returned the brief greeting, bending to graze her hand with his lips before moving on. “Margaret.”
That was all there was. Anything more would be said another time, she was certain of that. Bart, all but ignored the exchange waiting for the other group to clear the door so theirs could go in. If he was interested at all in the ‘arrangement’ now, or if he recognized Thorne from the first night, he gave nothing away.
“Can we go in?”
Maggie didn’t bother to look up, smarting back. “No one’s stopping you.”
He turned to look at her then, waiting to speak or move until Maggie caught his gaze.
“Ladies first, I insist.”
‘Stand and deliver...’
The Back Door was a vastly different place than The Brickhouse. Everything was happening in the carols and alcoves of the main room. Once through the main entrance and a small vestibule, the four had been passed through a set of ornate, opaque French doors, buzzed in by a doorman.
Ryan perked up, finally showing anything that resembled interest. He waved to someone he knew and was off without a word. Bart who had been looking the other way cursed openly when he turned to find Ryan gone from the group. He gave a hard wordless stare to Brad before taking off after Ryan across the room. Brad sidled up to Maggie. He could have been in her suit with her he’d moved to stand so close.
“This’ll be a short trip.”
Maggie was stunned at the comment. “Why do you say that?”
Brad gave a hard snort, tilting his head to where Bart had caught up to and was having an animated, loud conversation with Ryan.
“Bart doesn’t like deviations from his plan. Ryan taking off like that? Somebody’s getting punished tonight.”
Trying to clarify, Maggie asked the question she didn’t know she knew the answer to. “So should I be concerned for talking in the alley?”
Brad laughed out loud then. “No. He may not have liked it, but you’re not his. You probably won’t get asked to come along again, but I doubt he has the wherewithal to try to punish you.”
“Wait. What do you mean his? As in, they’re a couple?”
Brad’s face lit with understanding. “Ah. You didn’t know. Yes, well...yes, they’re a ‘couple’” he made air quotes at the word couple. “Not exclusive, but out together they might as well be. Ryan’s faux pas will not be without its price.”
“So you’re saying I should take it all in quick then?”
Brad scoffed, nodding at Bart and Ryan returning with Bart all but dragging Ryan back by an ear. “I’d say you have about ninety seconds based on the shade of red Bart’s wearing.”
Maggie scanned the room quickly. She was shocked more people weren’t watching Ryan being led back toward the door. Given the other activities happening in the dim room, it wasn’t the big show on the floor, thus not too hard to understand.
They whipped back into stall number three behind The Brickhouse before Maggie let go of the armrest. Bart drove like a maniac. Not a word had been spoken once he and Ryan had rejoined them. They moved toward and out the door, down the alleyway and to the car in silence save the click of their footfalls all in time with one another.
Ryan sat pouting in the backseat. He remained there when Bart, Brad and Maggie got out. Bart finally spoke.
“I’ll tell Wendy what happened. Just go home unless you want to play here for a while since you got all dressed up. We won’t be going back out tonight.”
Maggie didn’t respond. She followed the other two in the back door. Brad showed her to the doorway from the back hall to the main floor before disappearing with Bart up the stairs.
She hadn’t really thought to stay, but she also, as Bart had pointed out, hadn’t gotten all dressed up to walk in and out of a club and go home. She twirled the Cat on her wrist as she signaled the bartender.
“Do you know how to use that thing, or is it just for show?”
A female voice startled her from her thoughts. As she turned, a toe-headed woman wearing less fabric than Maggie thought she herself had on in her underwea
r alone was looking her up and down all but licking her lips. Maggie looked her up and down, took a long swallow of her newly arrived club soda and bit loudly through an ice cube, clicking her teeth together in a tight smile before responding.
“Just how badly do you want to know?”
She surprised herself with what had come out of her mouth, but buried the reaction to hold the bluff. The woman toyed with her hair and tried to up her stare, leaning back to stand with her hip kicked out.
“For you hot stuff? I’ll let you throw at me for free.”
Margaret laughed out loud, finished her drink and set it down with a nod to the bartender for a refill before locking eyes with the woman, crooking and curling her finger for her to come closer. When the woman finally leaned in, Maggie dropped her voice to the low rumbling timber that Thorne used on her.
“Darlin', if you think for a second that I pay anyone for their privilege of feeling my toys, you are sorely mistaken. I didn’t come to court you. Pay up, or shut up and walk away before I give you a freebie. Feel me?”
The woman’s eyes had grown wider with every word Maggie had spoken. By the time she got to ‘freebie’ her pupils were fully dilated. Maggie was glad she had the Cat or the bluff would have been a lost game as the woman pulled money from a pocket in her wrist cuff and handed it to Maggie.
“What will this get me?”
Maggie unfolded two Grants and looked blankly at the woman thinking. She didn’t want to stay all night. Maybe she could change her mind another way. “Tonight? About twenty minutes.”
The woman didn’t flinch. Her breathy response made it clear she was sold even if it had been for five. “Deal.”
Put up or shut up genius. Maggie told herself. “Follow me.”
Maggie led the woman beyond the nearest drape to the hall of doors. Synchronicity prevailed as the room with the cross was vacant. The woman walked over and stood in front of it as Maggie closed the door. Was she really going to do this? She asked herself not for the first time today.
“Do you need to be restrained?”
“No.”
“Turn around please.” Guess we’re doing this.
The woman’s face fell as she whined. “But I want to do it this way.”
Oh hell no. “You failed to negotiate that term when you made your deal. Turn now or we’re done.”
The woman turned. Someone had to be first. There was no way Maggie was facing them when it happened. She had practiced for weeks, and earlier in the day with Wendy had worked on this very scenario. It really was now or chicken. Channeling Thorne she gave the woman one last out.
“Final answer?”
“Final answ...”
Maggie didn’t wait for the second word to carry back to her before pulling back and rolling the Cat forward the way Wendy had taught her.
“...errr.” Came out on a breathy, high-pitched, new air intake moan.
Maggie curled under, rolled it again and pulled back opposite the pink stripe of the first throw. The woman let out a soft whimper.
“More.”
Bart crashed through her thoughts and charged out her mouth.
“You like my toy?” Maggie sneered the last word as she threw again.
“Yesss.”
She continued as she crossed the pattern over again diagonally. “So, not just for show?”
The woman held the uprights tightly. “No. Not for showww.”
“Good girl. I believe that answers your questions. Since I don’t have any, not another sound from you unless I tell you to speak.”
Maggie settled into her stance, timed the pulls and continued curling without another break in the rhythm. The time went fairly quickly and the woman actually endured well, managing to keep quiet with only a few lapses. When she was done, Maggie moved to help her to a seat, pulled a damp towel from the warmer and wiped her down, kneading the shoulders with each pass.
The woman sighed. “Now Mistress I just need to get laid and I’ll be perfect.”
Maggie didn’t miss the ‘Mistress’ comment but didn’t stop what she was doing. Her fingers were thick with arnica. She kept rubbing, but her mind had done the needle-scratch across the vinyl. After she cleaned up, she knelt in front of the woman.
“We back to normal here?” The woman nodded. “The rest of what you’re looking for is not on my agenda, or part of our deal. Time’s up.”
Maggie helped the woman rise. Just to the door, she noticed her audience. Wendy, Peter, Brad and Thorne stood on the other side of the glass. She forced herself not to react.
She took the woman through, nodded to the others and turned away. She took the woman back to the bar where they’d started and moved to walk away with a nod. “Good night.”
“Wait. How will I find you again?”
Itching to escape, Maggie responded over her shoulder without turning fully. “Darlin', I’m pretty sure it will be harder for you to miss me. Good night.”
She moved toward the door to the back employee area and the way out. Thorne had re-entered the main room but she had no desire to hash this out with him tonight. Maybe a completely coward move on her part, but right now a necessary one. In all the excitement of the day and evening she had forgotten tomorrow was court. Clicking toward the door she noticed Wendy pop through another further down. Maggie held up a hand and waved before hitting the crash bar after hearing Wendy’s shout, “Nice throwing Mags.”
If he followed her home, she’d beaten him. She shut off the ringer on the phone and locked the deadbolt once inside making a beeline for hot water. She carefully but quickly peeled everything off and draped the suit over the chair before hitting play on Oingo Boingo, turning up the volume, ducking under the spray singing ‘What is the Law? No Spill Blood’ at top volume.
When the hot water ran out she regretfully shut off the tap, dried off and snuck a peek to the curb through the slider. No car. No blink on the machine either. Disappointed, angry, intrigued or other, whatever he might be, wisely Thorne was leaving her be for now.
Well past midnight, Maggie set two alarms before tucking into bed, falling into the evening on repeat in her dreams.
‘He’s everywhere I look...’
Maggie was early. She sat in the gallery through thirty minutes of random motions before her case was called. Her attorney walked in. Upon seeing her he stopped and asked if she wanted to be at the plaintiff’s table. She didn’t.
She did about pee the bench where she sat when several other attorneys walked in, including one Bartholomew Drega. He sat at the other table not having noticed her. He was not the first seat, but two down from the aisle. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
As she’d been told, it was simple. The settlement and dismissal were presented to the judge.
“Council please approach.”
Her attorney and the four from the other table went up to the judge. They were speaking amongst themselves but in the mostly empty room their voices carried.
“All parties are in agreement?”
“Yes your honor.” Came the near unison response.
“No lingering issues here?”
“No your honor.”
The judge looked to her attorney. “Your client understands this settlement is final?”
“Yes your honor, she has been fully advised.”
He turned to the group from the other table. “This says forty-five days to pay, is that going to be a problem gentlemen or do I need to reserve a docket time for mid-September?”
The one who had been seated nearest the aisle before they went up spoke for the group. “No your honor. We will transfer today if that’s acceptable to you.”
Maggie felt dizzy. Did he just say today?
“That’s even better. The settlement papers all appear to be in order. According to the agreed terms, I hereby accept the settlement and dismiss the pending legal action. A gag order is now in effect according to the terms of this document for all parties. It is hereby ordered and irrevocable. Thank you gentlem
en, I like coming back to smooth dealings.”
He banged the gavel loudly. “Next case.”
As the group turned to return to the tables and collect their things Maggie saw two very different reactions. Her attorney turned, smiled and gave her a thumb’s up. Bart turned, caught sight of her, and put two and two together before having a major slip of his normally stoic face. His eyes went wide as his mouth dropped open after an unspoken “Oh my god it’s you” played loudly across his face.
‘Daddy’s little girl...’
Thankfully her attorney made it through the swinging door first. She was ushered to a small room off to the side once they cleared the court room. He clarified that she had heard correctly, they were paying today. As they had arranged everything previously, she would have her full distribution in the various accounts before the week was done.
It was over, surreal, but over. Monday August fifth at ten eighteen am it was all finally done. Maggie was glad she was sitting or she might have dropped.
She had a list of four or five things she needed to do. After she set an appointment to pick up her copies of all the court documents and deposits later in the week, she said her ‘Thank you’ and all but ran out. Her first stop was The Brickhouse.
She asked for Wendy at the bar but found she wouldn’t be in until tomorrow maybe, Monday’s were here day off. Maggie left a note in an envelope with her phone number for when she came in, or if she called in to have her call her if she would. She headed out and went straight to Custom Helotry.
Her heart was still racing from court when she found Ava.
“Truck’s not 'til tomorrow Mags.”
“Hello to you too smarty pants.” Maggie said before hugging her tight. “I need a hood to go with my suit.”
“Okay...” Ava asked more than stated. They flipped through pictures of several styles before xeroxing one and scribbling some changes on it. A few measurements later, Maggie charged the fee for two hoods and a second suit.
