Coffee with Ellie would have nothing to do with me. I nod. “That would be fine. We’re just keeping the relationship stuff on the D-L. But coffee’s cool. Do that.”
The ref blows his whistle and Ellie gives me a quick wave goodbye before saying, “I will.”
I make my way back to the team, pumped up. I should be exhausted after the night I had, but I’m not. I’m thinking about Violet maybe sitting in the stands at some point, watching me play. Bringing her work and sitting next to Ellie. The two of them finding a friendship, maybe.
Aside from the fact that she’s my lawyer and won’t be seen in public with me—surely obstacles that can be overcome—I think Violet might be my girlfriend.
And I fucking like it.
I stop and pick up flowers after the game, then I text Violet. She’s at home, and yes, sure, I can stop by.
V: My neighbour’s here, though. I can kick him out.
M: Or I could meet him.
V: Or I could kick him out.
M: Up to you.
When I get there, she buzzes me up. Her apartment is empty. I’m strangely disappointed.
But that fades quickly when she sees the flowers and her eyes go all warm, and she wraps her arms around my neck. “Are those for me?”
“They are indeed.” I pull her close, swinging the bouquet behind her. I love the feel of her in my arms. The warmth of her smile as I lower my face and brush my lips against hers.
“You’re being romantic,” she breathes.
“How about that?” I kiss her again, showing her with my mouth how much I want her, how much I’ve needed this, all week.
But before I can start to get her naked, my pager goes off.
We break apart and she takes the flowers. “I’ll put these in water,” she murmurs as I check the message.
Suspected meningitis case. Lumbar puncture in the ER ruled out bacterial meningitis but symptoms are…
I read the rest of the page, then text the resident a few questions.
“Do you have to go?” Violet asks, as she returns from the kitchen, carrying the flowers in a vase.
“Not yet.”
“Are you in there a lot on call weekends?”
“A fair bit. My colleagues with families often defer to the senior resident, and that’s fine. Good actually, they need the experience, too. And our seniors are fantastic. But I actually like being on call. After I finished my residency I did two fellowships because that constantly-on energy is right up my alley.” I snag her wrist and spin her around, her back to my front. “Interferes with this, though.”
“Mmm.” She rolls her neck to the side and I scrape my teeth up the tendon there. I can’t get enough of that subtle scent I’ve come to associate with her.
“Hey, speaking of a social life…I’m having a private holiday party.”
“Hmm?”
“And I’d like you to come.”
She stiffens and moves back half a foot.
No more neck kissing right now, got it.
She gives me a wary look. “Define private.”
“Just a few close, like-minded friends.”
“Like-minded?"
"Kinky.”
“Ah.” She licks her lips. I’m sure she doesn’t even know how interested she looks.
I press on. “You could call it a play party. Generally at these things sex can and does happen, but it's not the sole point of the get together. It's a safe place for people to get together to play, and that might be all you see.” I pause for emphasis. “And all I’d ask you to do.”
Her eyes light up at that.
I’m far too manipulative for my own good. Or just manipulative enough for both of us to have a little fun. “It’s very private. I can’t stress enough. This is why I have a dungeon in my basement, because from time to time I like the club atmosphere but I can’t risk the public exposure.”
“Who would be there, exactly?”
“Friends from my hockey team. My carefully vetted hockey team, because Gavin is on it.”
Her eyes go wide. “Gavin?”
I shake my head. “He and Ellie would be welcome, but they won’t be there this time.”
She nods. “Okay. I’ll give it some thought.”
“I want you there, Violet.”
She searches my face. “Totally private?”
“You have my word.”
Another nod, this one more definitive. “Then I’ll be there.”
“Good.” I pull her in for another kiss, and my pager goes off.
She sighs and brushes her lips against mine. “Go away, Dr. Bad Boy. You’re needed elsewhere. And I have a holiday outfit to shop for now.”
I tell her that she only needs a festive thong, and after she gasps, I kiss her goodbye. Long and slow and not nearly satisfying enough.
But I like the new look in her eye. The naughty look that glints there now that we’re planning something a little outside the contractual box.
Maybe Violet might be ready to admit she’s my girlfriend after all.
My kinky, dirty, naughty girlfriend.
28
Violet
It’s all fun and games until someone decides to get serious.
Not that I’d decided that, exactly. But it was on my mind. And with Max’s Christmas party, it’s on my mind. He’s assured me it will be safe and private, but what if the next one is a bigger deal? What if he wants to take me to a club?
What if I want him to take me to a club?
Everything is spinning so fast and out-of-control for us, and I don’t want that to stop. At all. I want more, not just play weekends but late dinners mid-week, when we’re both exhausted but seeing each other is a balm that’s worth the extra hour or two.
I want to hit the Farmer’s Market together and get muffins again.
I want Max, all of Max, and I’m the reason why I can’t have him like that.
So I’m in a terrible mood when I get an email late Tuesday afternoon.
To: Violet Roberts
From: Ellie Montague
Subject: Free for coffee this week?
* * *
Hi Violet!
* * *
I was wondering if you wanted to grab coffee this week. I need to do some Christmas shopping, too, if you like that sort of thing.
* * *
Ellie
* * *
PS My roommate might come with, if that’s okay.
Shopping? Yes, please. I could use some serious retail therapy right now. I fire back my response, and we agree to meet after work the next day for shopping first, then food to refuel.
I meet them just inside the doors of the mall. Two not-so-subtle security guys lurk nearby, but they’re low-key enough that after a moment I can pretend this is a regular new girlfriend meet up. Ellie introduces her roommate, Sasha, a fellow grad student at U of O.
“At some point you’re going to have to admit you don’t live with me anymore,” Sasha teases.
Ellie shrugs. “Maybe after the wedding.”
Sasha laughs out loud. “You just don’t want to pack up and move.”
“I’m doing it slowly. One suitcase at a time.” She looks at me and blushes. “Anyway, Sasha, Violet, Violet, Sasha.”
“Nice to meet you,” the sort-of roommate says with a wink. “What’s on our shopping agenda today?”
“I need presents for Gavin’s entire family.” Ellie winces. “No pressure or anything. And Max, too.” She gives me a curious look. “Maybe you could help with that.”
“Uh…” What am I going to recommend? A ball gag? Purple heels that he can make me wear so when I lean over I’m the perfect height to fuck from behind? I realize I can’t immediately come up with any non-kink gift ideas other than maybe hockey stuff. What does that say about our relationship? And what does that worry say about me, when I’m supposed to just want a kink-based relationship anyway? “Yeah. I might need help there, too.”
She nods. “It’s so stressful, eh? Pic
king the right present.”
Well now it is. But Sasha’s a pro. She’s got a father and a couple of brothers, all with expensive taste and a couple of decades of getting everything they want. As we swing into the first department store, she outlines her strategy for holiday gift giving.
“First, look for something that will make them laugh. A dorky tie, a silly mug, or a game of some sort. Then add an expectedly high-value item to it, like a good quality tie-clip, a rare coffee subscription service, or a weekend away at an exclusive resort.”
I give Ellie an impressed look. “You were right. She’s good at this shopping thing.”
Sasha does a little dance of victory and points us toward the men’s section. I find a tie that I might give to Max. It’s not funny, exactly, but it’s hot. Black and purple threads woven in a way that it looks black until you’re up close, and then the purple ripples through it.
He could wear it for my next visit to the principal’s office.
It’s the kind of kinked-up romantic gesture I think he might appreciate. Although are matching outfits ever appreciated by a guy like Max?
“That’s nice,” Ellie murmurs as she wanders past.
“Is it weird if it matches shoes I have?”
She tilts her head to the side. “Not if it’s the only thing that matches? That’s subtle, you know?”
I glance around. Sasha’s over in the fragrance section now, and we’re all alone. Even Ellie’s bodyguards are giving us a wide berth. “Do you know about Max’s Christmas party?”
She nods. “We can’t go. It’s…too soon.”
I get that. A short-lived scandal about Gavin’s college sexscapades rocked through Ottawa a few months earlier, and attending a kinky holiday party might be too sensitive for him. Or her, although she doesn’t look upset.
“Next year, maybe!” She glances across the department store floor toward her best friend. “Did Max give you an idea of how many people would be there?”
“Some of his friends from the hockey team. He’s doing the full catering thing, but it’s still going to be low-key and smallish. Partly for me, partly due to the space confines.”
“If there’s a heavy percentage of guys, find out if Max would mind if Sasha came. Oh!” She claps her hands together. “And Beth could go! Max likes her. They could go together.”
I frown at Max likes her. “Beth?”
“Gavin’s assistant.” Ellie sighs dramatically. “She loves Lachlan, and Lachlan loves her, but they’re both…I don’t know. It’s tragic. Max and I are both on Team Lachlan+Beth, I think. Not that we have meetings or anything. Just a hunch. But ask him.”
“I will.”
We head to a book store next, and I pick a travel memoir that has a crotchety-but-secretly-softhearted-old-man vibe to it. Maybe for Max, maybe for my father. Next to it is a motorcycle road trip book that Matthew might like, so I add that to my pile.
“I need a dress for my father’s Christmas party,” Sasha announces when we finish there, and Ellie shrugs.
“I could do some dress shopping. How about you, Violet? Do you need an outfit for that party we talked about before?”
Uh, no. But I can’t tell her that Max picks out all my outfits. That’s weird outside the confines of our secret thing. Isn’t it? I think it is. Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, though. Because it’s also lovely.
She laughs. “I’ll take that as a no.”
My face heats up and I nod. “We’re good on that front.”
But I try on a black silk dress anyway, to play along, and it fits like a glove. The saleslady sees me coming a mile away, and when she whispers that it’s going on sale for twenty percent off tomorrow, but she can give me that discount tonight, I’m sold.
And now my credit card is officially groaning. “That’s probably all the shopping I need to do,” I say with a happy sigh, holding up my bags.
Ellie makes a similar noise, and Sasha shakes her head. “Amateurs. I’m going to keep going, but text me from wherever you end up for dinner and I might join you.”
“Thanks for the gift advice,” I say warmly, meaning every word. “And we should definitely do this again. I have a weakness for nice work clothes and we didn’t even hit some of my favourite stores tonight.”
“Oh yes!” She grins and flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “It’s so on after the holidays. We’ll kill the sales.”
“Awesome.”
We watch her disappear into the throng of holiday shoppers, then Ellie points for the nearest exit. “Shall we head away from downtown a bit?” She tips her head toward the now invisible-to-me security detail. “I just need to tell them where we’re going.”
“My car is at my office, do you want a drive?” That’s weird to offer to the PM’s fiancée.
She shakes her head. “I drove. They usually split up, one traveling with me and one in the car behind, but I can probably convince them to follow in the car behind if you come with me.”
I can always cab it back to my office to get my car, or she could drop me off. “Sure, let’s go somewhere quieter.” I wait until we’re into the parkade and have found her car—a small SUV right next to a giant black sedan—then ask, “Is it weird having the guards?”
“It was at first. But once I got into the swing of things at work, where they’re totally invisible, it was fine. It’s only been a couple of months, really, and it feels like routine now.”
“Funny how our lives can change so quickly,” I murmur.
“No kidding.” She steers out onto the dark winter night and drives quickly but confidently down one-way streets until she pulls into a parking lot just off Bank Street. She turns the car off but doesn’t get out. “So…can I ask about you and Max? How that’s going?”
“It’s going.”
“Hey, I get it. There aren't many people I can trust with confidences now, either.”
“I’d never—“
“I know. And that’s why I ask, because I want you to know that I’d never reveal any of your secrets, either.” Ellie’s face softens, a frown tugging just a bit between her eyebrows. “You know, I wish it wasn’t a big deal, who I'm in a relationship with, but it is. Wanting it to be different doesn't change that. So…I don’t know exactly what the deal is, but I’m guessing it’s not as simple as regular dating a famous guy, right?”
I almost do a double-take, because I never think of Max as famous. He used to be, but now he’s one hundred percent doctor.
Well, maybe ninety percent doctor, ten percent evil Dom. “No, it’s not simple. But not about his fame, either. You know…I didn’t recognize him when I met him. It wasn’t until he came into the office…” I trail off. Maybe she doesn’t know. When Gavin asked where we met, I was cagey and Max let me keep it vague. “Do you know that I’m his lawyer?”
Her eyebrows jolted up. “Oh. That’s complicated.”
“Yeah.”
“Do we need booze for this story?”
I laugh. “Maybe a glass of wine.”
“Let’s go in and get some dinner.” She blows on her hands. I hadn’t even realized it was getting cold in the car. “And we’ll get a private table. I want to hear all about this. Or—” She waves her hands. “However much you feel like telling me, of course.”
“Of course.” I’m so relieved to have said that out loud to someone and not have been shamed horrifically. Baby steps. But I think I’m ready to tell Ellie a lot more than I thought I would.
She’s brought me to a bistro that’s quiet inside, but private, too. The front of house guy who greets us obviously recognizes her. “Good evening, Ms. Montague.” He gives her a warm smile. “For two?”
She laughs quietly. “Two for two, please. It’s cold out there.” She pulls out her phone and fires off a quick text.
“Inviting them in?”
She nods. “They’d stay out there if I didn’t. Crazy men. The whole thing is crazy, but there you go. That’s my life.”
We’re seated at th
e farthest booth in the back, and in a minute, her security detail comes in and sits in the next booth, creating quite a significant buffer between us and any other patrons.
And nobody has given us a second glance.
She hands me the wine menu as we listen to the specials.
The waiter looks at me, and I look at her. “The Gamay Noir? From Niagara?”
She nods. “Yum.”
“Done.” The waiter hands over the regular menus. “And I’ll give you a few minutes to decide on the food…”
As soon as he disappears, Ellie closes her menu. “I’m having the special.”
I scan the list of entrees in front of me. “Uh…I’ll have the warm harvest salad.”
“Good. Now spill. Please.”
I get a brief reprieve when the waiter returns with our wine—delicious—and leaves with our orders.
But that’s all I get. I take a deep breath. “I’m a junior associate. The rules are probably similar to what it’s like for you as a grad student. I don’t get to pick my clients, they’re assigned by the firm, and my willingness to do anything and ability to bill well are key factors in advancement.”
“And Max is a client?”
I nod. “One that was assigned to me, and it was stressed that we not do anything to risk losing his account.”
“But he would never—”
“No, I know, but being involved with him is a major conflict of interest. I can’t say anything about it, and no matter what I tell myself…I can’t stop seeing him, either. It’s a rock and a hard place. And I’m terrified that one of these days, I’m going to be found out and fired.”
“So what if they do?”
Irritation flashes through me. “I can't be glib about my career.”
“Of course not.” Elle lowers her voice, softening her tone. “You like him.”
More than I ever expected. “It’s…getting real. That wasn’t the plan, really. We thought we could keep it contained to agreed upon weekends, but I find myself wanting more of him. Wanting him, not just…”
Dr. Bad Boy Page 17
