George had blown her phone up with calls and texts, and she’d finally turned it off. She just couldn’t deal with any of the texts or voicemails pleading for a second chance, promising he was making changes, and then the angry accusations that she was “fucking that nigger.” He’d both texted and left the message in a voicemail. It struck at her very core.
She’d never known George to speak like that, but then again, she’d never known him to leap on top of a car, and she’d never been in the throes of a divorce with him. But having him refer to Kennedy that way infuriated her. For George to say that, to use that slur was beyond unacceptable. He’d called and texted half an hour later saying he hadn’t meant to say that.
Too damn late. Too fucking late. The words had been spoken and written. Apologies didn’t erase memories.
Kennedy’s smile…more of a smirk really…had irritated her today. Even Celeste recounting a date Saturday night with a theatre director and then a Sunday afternoon bedroom romp with Detroit had annoyed her. She admitted she was PMS-ing. She was bloated and snappy and craving carbs and sugar, but that still didn’t mean that George, Kennedy, Celeste, and every damn body else shouldn’t just leave her alone.
She heard someone approaching and pasted on the best professional smile she could muster at the moment. She looked up…and froze.
“Don’t be upset,” Anne said.
Georgina had ignored the phone calls, but she couldn’t ignore the woman when she showed up at her workplace. And what the hell was she thinking showing up where Georgina worked? Bringing the madness and drama to Georgina’s work.
Georgina found her voice. “What are you doing here?”
Her mother-in-law kept coming. “I tried to call you, but your phone is off.”
“I know.” Georgina dug deep for compassion. If being married to George had been hell, she also knew Anne’s and Tolliver’s hearts had been broken a thousand times over and then some. Georgina was suddenly unutterably weary…of everything. “What is it, Anne? Why are you here?”
Anne reached across the black marble counter and took Georgina’s hands in her own. “Because it’s so wonderful, darling girl,” the name grated on her like nails on a blackboard, “such wonderful, wonderful news, and George was afraid you wouldn’t believe him if I didn’t vouch for it. Tollie and I drove up last night and went to the doctor with George today. He got the shot, the one that lasts for two months. We were there with him. George is going to be fine. You two are going to be fine. You and Lulu can come home now, darling, back where you belong. He’s waiting for you. He loves you. He needs you. And I know you’re going to do the right thing.”
* * *
“You’re obsessed,” Janice said from the other side of her glass of prickly pear, but there was no denying the envy in her voice.
“Guilty as charged,” Arden agreed from across the table at their favorite Mexican restaurant. She loaded a chip with a big glob of guacamole. It was the first time she hadn’t seen him on a Thursday in four weeks, but she’d had to send a cancellation via Janice. She still had marks from Greg’s discipline.
“You’re as jealous as I am,” Deborah said, earning a glare from Janice. “All that sex…” she added wistfully.
Arden laughed. Deborah only knew the half of it. Actually, not even the half. She’d given her friends the ultra-abbreviated version.
Janice sniffed and tossed her head. “I don’t want some man telling me what to do. I’m an independent woman.”
Laughing again, Arden shook her head. “It’s so much more than that.” Janice was definitely jealous, and she had no clue what she was talking about. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done before. It’s the most incredible experience of being present, totally locked into the moment, the sensations, the experience.”
She deliberately kept her attention focused on Janice. Some man at the bar had been trying to catch her attention for a few minutes now. She could feel him looking at her.
“You’re right. I don’t get it. And I’m really surprised that a woman like you would go in for something like this.”
Janice was obviously baiting her, but Arden wanted to see just how far her friend would go. “What do you mean, a woman like me?”
“You’ve never been some mousy woman or scared rabbit. You’ve always been so take charge and in control. I just don’t get it.”
“Do you have any idea how strong you have to be to give up your will and your control? Do you have any idea how liberated and freeing it is?”
“There’s tremendous strength in surrender,” Deborah chimed in.
Both Janice and Arden looked at Deborah in surprise.
Deborah shrugged. “I’ve been doing some online reading. I admit I’ve been intrigued since this started.”
Janice smirked. “Well, Arden doesn’t need two men bossing her around so you could probably have one. I’m sure one boss is the same as another.”
Deborah shook her head. “Hell, no. I’m not doing leftovers. And even if I was, I don’t think Arden’s ready to give up either one of them. Are you?”
“No.” It came out quick and sure. “They’re both so different. And it’s so fantastic with both of them.” Thinking about Greg…about him, Master…her pussy instantly got wet.
“Jesus, Arden. You’ve turned into a slut.”
Janice’s words didn’t faze her. She laughed. “Hardly. Just because I’m learning more about my sexuality and embracing it doesn't make me a slut.”
“That guy over there can’t stop watching you,” Deborah said.
Arden finally looked at him. He was early- to mid-fifties, nice-looking, expensive clothes. He saluted her with his highball glass. She could have him if she wanted him and that wasn’t arrogance. He wasn’t the first. Since all of this had started on her birthday, she’d had all kinds of men watching her, looking, wanting. Greg calling her up and asking her out was a perfect example.
“It’s like you’re wearing some magic perfume,” Deborah said, her head tilted to one side as she eyes Arden speculatively. “You’re not dressing any different.”
“I think it’s a sexual vibe. It’s that knowing what I like and how I like it and being comfortable with it. How many times have you been in bed, and you’re thinking your thighs are wrong or what you’ve got to do at work the next day or what you’re going to do when you get through screwing?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I suppose,” Janice grudgingly admitted. She was in a mood today.
“I had a little bit of that at first with him but now…I am so caught up in being so alive in the moment…the excitement of it…the uncertainty…it all just feels good.”
“Okay. I’m confused. You're telling me that getting paddled felt good?”
Her pussy quivered just thinking about it. “It’s hard to explain. But it’s not like you have to be into paddling or domination. The key is in finding out what your thing is and going with it.”
“Yeah? Well, what happens when you just aren’t in the mood?” Janice asked.
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine not being in the mood for them.”
“Them?” Deborah’s eyes were as big as saucers. “Are you going to tell me you’re going for a ménage à trois now?”
Arden laughed. “No. That never crossed my mind.”
“But what if one of them wanted it?”
“They wouldn’t. It would be like two alpha wolves sharing a bitch. It just wouldn’t happen.”
“And what if one of your alphas wants two bitches at once? What are you going to do then?”
“I never considered that either, but I don’t think that’s the way they roll.”
Janice spoke up. “How far are you going to go with this? How far are you going to take it? What’s your limit?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out.” The one thing she did know was that she was in deep…and wanted in deeper…with both men. “
Janice sat for a minute and then she finally spoke. “I’m
done. I can either give him your email or your phone number or both, but I’m done being the messenger girl. This is between the two of you from here on out.”
As much as Arden liked the “distance” between her and her mystery lover with Janice as the messenger, she totally understood Janice’s need to bow out. Greg complicated things, and her mystery man was one of Janice’s co-workers.
Arden nodded. “My personal email.” She didn’t want him to have her phone number.
The irony, and perhaps a touch of madness, didn’t escape her. She had done some of the most intimate things with and to her mystery man. She’d allowed him access to her body and her will and, in some regards, her mind, yet she didn’t want him to have her phone number because it felt too personal.
“Okay,” Janice said. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Arden held up her glass in a toast. “Not particularly. But I’m going to keep on doing it.”
* * *
Saturday afternoon Georgina tugged her ball cap more firmly into place as the movers loaded the last box onto the truck. It had begun to drizzle.
“Are you sure about this?” George came to stand beside her.
The one thing she was sure of was that she wasn’t sure of anything. She nodded as the drizzle gave way to rain, big fat drops that splotched against her and around her. “I’m sure.”
“You know….” He trailed off. The rain mixed with the tears leaking from his green eyes.
“I know.” A merciful numbness kept her dry-eyed. She could barely look at him. It was hard to see the mix of hope, despair, and accusation in his eyes. She knew was this wasn’t what he wanted, but she wasn’t so sure that it had anything to do with her personally, as odd as that sounded. Without Georgina there was no buffer between him and Anne. George and his parents believed he required a “keeper.” George found his wife preferable to his mother in that role. She hated it for him, but she couldn’t go back. She wouldn’t go back. She dug her nails into her clenched fist, and they bit into her palm. She nodded. “You take care of yourself.”
Anne and Tolliver, Tolliver moving slowly with his cane, joined them.
“We’ll take care of him,” Anne said. Anger rolled off of her in waves. She’d made it abundantly clear she thought it was Georgina’s “job” to help “take care of” George. “When your fling with your—”
Tolliver halted her with a hand on her arm. Anne sniffed and continued, “To think we allowed you, someone of your caliber into our family. But true colors will show themselves. Don’t even consider crawling back when things don’t work out for you. You won’t be welcome.” With a final glare at Georgina, she glanced at her son and husband. “Let’s go.”
Georgina took a deep breath, grateful for the light hand Celeste rested on her elbow, reminding her she wasn’t facing this alone. That in and of itself was novel.
Tolliver stood his ground and held out one arm in invitation, his other hand on the cane supporting him. Georgina stepped into his embrace. Tears clogged the back of her throat as she wrapped her arms around the thin, sparse man who had once sat on a bench and decided the fate of sinners and saints in a district court until a stroke had robbed him of his speech and some of his mobility. Judge Tolliver Douglas still had a firm hug. And it was amazing what could be said without a word every passing between them. Tolliver told her she’d always have a home in his heart. Georgina silently told him she loved him.
“George, you drive,” Anne instructed as they walked away. “You know I don’t like this Atlanta traffic, especially when it’s raining. Tollie, you take the front.”
The moving crew piled in the moving van’s cab and cranked the truck.
“Well, that was awkward,” Celeste said. “But now it’s done. Come on. No point standing out in the rain.”
Her words mobilized Georgina, and the two of them sprinted over to Celeste’s mini-van. They got in just as the rain turned into a downpour.
“Thank you,” Georgina said. “For everything.”
Today they’d moved from co-workers to friends. Celeste had insisted she’d help Georgina get the last of her belongings out of the house while George’s parents were moving him back to Linton. Being involved in theatre and staging, Celeste had, as she liked to refer to it, a vintage mini-van. It, and Celeste’s quiet support, had definitely come in handy today.
“You’re welcome. What a bitch.”
“Anne’s just—”
“A controlling bitch.”
Georgina burst into laughter not because what Celeste said was so funny but because it released tension and God knows she’d been tense. Plus, it was true. She sat in the passenger seat and laughed, the rain pounding against the mini-van’s roof while it obscured the view from the windows, until she had tears in her eyes.
“Better?”
Georgina composed herself. “Better. “ Funny, she could finally see it…them…her…all the dynamics much more clearly. “George is their only son. He has a disease, but she won’t let him manage himself or be responsible for himself. She sees it as my job to take care of him as his wife and if it’s not me then it’s her. She’s turned him into an invalid who needs a keeper instead of a man who needs to take responsibility for his life.”
“Was she like that when you guys got married?”
“I think I saw her as take-charge rather than overbearing.” Georgina didn’t go into depth with Celeste. Georgina had felt as if she’d won the lottery when she and George had started dating, and she’d been taken into the bosom of the Douglas family. Aunt Rachel had made her life a living hell from the moment she’d “taken in” Georgina. When quiet, handsome George had shown up, he’d been her prince, her knight in shining armor who had come complete with the royal family. She’d always felt a sense of wonder that such a well-connected family would so willingly accept somebody like her. She’d been so grateful to be wanted, she’d done everything that was expected of her. Just as she’d done everything her aunt had expected of her. When you were somewhere on sufferance, you minded your Ps and Qs.
It had been George’s idea to move from the small town where everyone knew them…well, him and his family…to the anonymity of Atlanta and a fresh start. Georgina had realized at that point why Anne had been so accepting of Georgina. George and his problems were known. The “good” families in town were sympathetic but not to the point of marrying off one of their daughters. Georgina, who’d learned at an early age to be polite and invisible to protect herself and her place, was the perfect candidate. Malleable and grateful and no back up plan, she’d walked right into it.
Anne’s parting shot not to come crawling back because Georgina wouldn’t be welcome, that was deliberate. That was a reminder that she had no one now and nowhere to go. George had tossed in the towel on the big city, and Anne had come running to bring him—them—back home to Linton. They’d been so sure once they dangled the carrot of George being back on his meds that Georgina would fall in line and come back home in every sense – back to Linton, back to George, and back to taking care of George. But for the first time, Georgina had a job she liked and was finding out that she could do well enough on her own. And that hadn’t suited Anne in the least. “Well, maybe she is a bitch.”
“I’m glad you see it my way,” Celeste quipped. “Now how about we grab a burger and a chocolate shake?”
“That sounds like a plan.”
“And I can call Detroit, and he and Kennedy can help us unload your stuff.”
“No.” She couldn’t deal with Kennedy and a stranger right now. “I can only sort out so much at one time.”
“Okay, I understand.”
Georgina smiled. Celeste didn’t really understand, but that was okay. She didn’t have to.
“You know he’s not going to wait around forever,” Celeste said. Georgina knew she was referring to Kennedy.
“Yep.” And those chips would fall where they may. If she’d wanted to continue with a life hostage to others, then she’d be h
eading back to Linton with George, Anne, and Tolliver. Instead, she was going for a burger and shake with Celeste and then back to her studio apartment and Lulu.
She’d made a decision and was resolute. Ms. Polite People-Pleasing Georgina was now living life on her terms.
* * *
The tapas restaurant was packed. And she had to quit eating out or she was going to pack the weight on. Last week it had been the Mexican place with Janice and Deborah. Then Greg had phoned today with a surprise invite for dinner out, his treat.
Arden checked her email via her phone. Again. Still nothing. Janice had relayed Arden’s email address to him first thing this morning. She’d texted Arden, along with a brusque note that it was now strictly between her and him. Arden couldn’t help it; she’d had to know and had asked Janice what his response had been. He’d simply said okay. And Arden had been waiting since then. She didn’t expect he’d take her canceling on him real well. But she could hardly show up with bruises. And she’d had a sort of sick feeling in the pit of her stomach all day. Surely she’d hear from him again. He was just “punishing” her with his silence. He wouldn’t simply not contact her again…would he? The ball was now in his court, and all she could do was wait.
She put her phone away and stepped inside, looking for Greg and trying not to think about him. That had been one of the good things about this so far. When she was with one man, her attention was all on him. So…now she was about to be with Greg, and she wouldn’t spend her time thinking about him. This was going to work out fine. Now she wouldn’t spend the evening checking her phone every five minutes and wondering and angsting. She’d be fully present and in the moment.
Greg waved from the bar area and made his way through the throng of people to her. He slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek in greeting. “Hello, beautiful.”
It wasn’t an outrageous PDA, but it very clearly marked her as his territory. A couple of guys sitting at the bar gave miniscule shrugs and looked away, conceding she was taken.
Despite the crowd, they were immediately seated. She had to hand it to Greg. He was certainly connected.
BY THE HOUR, ATLANTA, Book 1 Page 12
