Jenny made a point of making eye contact with Lyle, and with Reed. “Like I told Lyle on the phone, don’t take Basco not crossing that barrier with any of you as an affront. He was very protective of her. I don’t even think she realizes how much. He was scared she’d end up alone, working herself to death, and dying of a heart attack or something before she was forty. She literally only has work and home. Sometimes she’ll go to the gym, if she remembers. If it wasn’t for Basco, she never would have left the house for anything other than groceries and work. She reads for a hobby, takes care of the house, and that’s it. She’s a workaholic who doesn’t know how to relax. He was doing his best to try to get her to loosen up some like that.”
“Sounds like someone I know,” Lyle drawled as he reached over and took Reed’s hand.
“Hey, I know how to relax.”
“True, you do, but you’re very driven when you work. Even you have to admit that.”
“I have to make a living.”
“Everyone has to make a living,” Lyle said, “but if it wasn’t for me, you’d forget how to make a life at the same time.”
Lyle’s words stung a little.
Probably because he heard the truth in them. “I’m the one who ditched my old career for a better one, if you’ll recall.”
“Yes, I recall. But you are also as intense with this career as you were with your last one. Just in different ways. When was the last time you took a day off and refused a charter?”
“Tomorrow,” he shot back.
“Um, nooo. The charter cancelled on you. And don’t lie and say if someone called you at the last minute that you wouldn’t be out on the water in a heartbeat, despite the fact that you got a cancellation fee from the charter you lost.”
Reed stared at the table. “So?” he mumbled. “That’s smart business.”
Tilly laughed, a hint of her usual self sparkling through. “You, sir, are a workaholic. I hereby announce you tried, found guilty, and convicted in this kinky kangaroo court. I’d sentence you to a spanking, but I don’t have that kind of relationship with you. Lyle, you do the honors when you get home.”
Reed looked to find Lyle smirking at him. “I just might do exactly that,” he said.
Chapter Eleven
After Vanessa’s talk with Tony, she understood a little better why her brother had made some of his decisions. Losing someone like Kaden, and the impact it would have had among their close-knit circle of friends in the local BDSM community, definitely would cause anyone to re-evaluate their life the way her brother had.
That Kaden had been so beloved among their local community, even among people who barely knew him, stood testament to the positive impact he’d had on so many lives.
She wondered what kind of an impact Basco’s death would have on people. No, he hadn’t been a member of the community for as long as Kaden had, and wasn’t as well-known among them.
But if one person avoided an untimely death because they went to the doctor, or if one person decided to take the plunge and live authentically because of his loss, she’d be happy with that. It would mean…something. That he hadn’t died totally in vain.
By the time she and Tony emerged from their private talk, Mark—aka Scrye to the kinky folks—and a woman she suspected was his wife, were standing at the table with Jenny and everyone else. There was another man and woman there as well, whom Tony quickly introduced.
“Scrye, I guess you already know,” he said.
Vanessa bashfully lifted a hand in greeting at her CPA. “Funny running into you here.”
He grinned. “Not if you knew me better, no, not really.” His smile faded. “Sorry about your brother.”
“Thanks.”
June, the slim, petite woman a stark contrast to Scrye’s bear-like bulk, was in fact his wife. Then Kel and Mallory. Kel had been one of the ones Tony thought Basco played with, and was not only a part-owner of the club, but the landlord as well.
Vanessa couldn’t exactly talk in private with the two men since more people were now over on the other side playing, but the men settled with her at a far table, drawing close. She wanted to get her talk with them out of the way so she didn’t mess up their plans for the evening. She knew Reed and Lyle would be there all night, and had no plans to leave early. They’d insisted it was all right for her to get this over with, and she appreciated their generosity for it.
“Like I told Tony, I’m not sure what to ask. I want to know more about my brother and why he liked this.”
Kel shrugged. “Speaking for myself, I can’t give you a solid answer. There are as many reasons why people like this as there are people involved in it. Why do some people like vanilla over chocolate ice cream? Why do some people like rap music versus country versus classical? It just…is. Some people fall into it accidentally and fall in love with it, and some people are simply hard-wired to be kinky because it’s a part of who they are in their DNA.”
Scrye nodded. “What he said.”
“I guess something else I want to know is, was he happy? Did he seem happy to you?”
“He was,” Scrye said. “The first time I suspended him, he was still relatively new to the scene and asked for a really strict bondage suspension. He’d been suspended a couple of times already.” He looked at Kel. “You popped his rope cherry, didn’t you?”
Kel smiled. “I did. He came to a class I taught and eagerly volunteered to let me suspend him when I was talking about the physiological differences between suspending men and women.”
“He was enjoying himself,” Scrye said. “I never saw him without a smile. Especially when he played.” He tipped his head toward the table where the others still sat. “I know he was really fond of Reed and Lyle. He’d been playing mostly with them over the past several months, as far as I know. Well, as far as I saw when I was here. You’d have to ask them about that.”
Words failed her. Now that she was here, she wasn’t even sure what to ask, much less how. A week ago this time, she’d been sitting in an ICU room with her brother, softly begging him to hold on, to get better.
To not leave her alone.
She’d called her parents when they’d gone to the ER, just an FYI, never dreaming what would happen a few hours later.
She felt like she’d failed him then, and she felt like she was still failing him.
The men patiently sat, waiting for her to speak.
Tears tried to surface again and she shoved them away. “I know retracing his steps won’t bring him back,” she admitted. “But I don’t know what else to do right now.”
The men both reached out, each one clasping her hands.
“It’s okay not to know,” Scrye gently said. “You’re still in shock. And that’s okay, too. Anyone who tells you to buck up and move on is an idiot.”
“Yeah,” Kel said. “It’s going to take you a while to even begin to start processing this. Do you have any friends you can lean on?”
She glanced over at Jenny. “I’m guessing Eliza and Rusty are kinky, too, aren’t they?” she asked. “They were friends of my brother and he introduced them, and Jenny and Ken, to me.
Kel laughed. “Um, if it’s the same Eliza and Rusty I know, that would be a definite yes.”
Her gaze dropped to the table. “Then I guess,” she quietly said, “I technically don’t have any friends. They were his friends and he introduced me to them. I don’t know if it’s fair of me to ask them for their support when they’re going to be grieving for him, too.”
“Stop,” Scrye said, gently squeezing her hand. “Look at me.”
She finally did, finding it hard not to cry.
“If your brother was their friend, they’ll want to be there for you. Let them. This is, no kidding, an extended kind of adopted family. Don’t push them away because of what you think you should or shouldn’t do. Let them make that call. Ask. Reach out. You’ve got a table full of ready-made friends over there already, and I think I can speak for Kel in this case and add the t
wo of us and our significant others to that list, too.”
Kel nodded.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice failing her. “I just…I feel so damned guilty,” she forced out.
“Don’t,” Kel said. “He was an adult and made his own choices, as cold as that sounds. You couldn’t force him to the hospital any sooner than you did.”
That wasn’t the sole source of her guilt, but she’d let it go for now. She’d about hit her limit of processing things.
The men led her back to the table, where she once again sat between Tilly and Jenny.
“We’d like to have a memorial service for him here, if that’s okay,” Tilly said. “You are, of course, invited.”
“Thank you. On Facebook, some of his friends are organizing a…well, I guess a vanilla service. For a week from tomorrow.”
“Perfect,” Tilly said. “Then, Kel, how about a week from this Sunday? Two in the afternoon?”
“I’ve got a charter I can’t cancel,” Reed said, looking glum.
“No worries,” Tilly said. “How about seven in the evening?”
Reed looked grateful and relieved. “I can make that, no problem. Thank you.”
“Done,” Kel said. “I’ll go add it to the schedule. Next Sunday, seven in the evening.” He turned and headed for the office.
“Thank you,” Vanessa said. “I’ll pay whatever—”
“Stop,” Tilly said. “No charge. Everyone will bring food, and the club donates the space and the soft drinks and coffee.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s not our first memorial service, and I’m sure it won’t be our last.” She glanced at Reed. “And Sunday evening probably works better for most folks, anyway, who will be sleeping in late from spending Saturday night here.”
* * * *
It was around ten o’clock when Lyle found out Vanessa hadn’t had anything for dinner. Before Tilly could even jump on her about it, he was up and moving.
“I’m on it,” he said, not missing the knowing smile on Tilly’s face as he headed over toward the buffet tables. There wasn’t a huge selection left this late in the evening, but he was able to cobble together some meatballs, fresh veggies and ranch dip, and a couple other little side dishes still available to fill a plate to bring back to her.
He set it in front of Vanessa, and before she could respond, he said, “Now, m’lady, what would you like to drink?”
She blushed, and he thought he might have tripped and fallen head-first in love with her.
“Water or unsweetened iced tea, please.”
“Coming right up.” He bustled back to the food area, fixed her a cup of iced tea, and also set it in front of her.
“Thank you,” she said.
Tilly slid out of her seat and grabbed him by the shoulders, steering him down and into her chair. “You can have my seat,” she said, giving him a wink as she patted him on the shoulder. “I’m going to go talk with Kel about doling out chores for the service. Make sure she eats at least half of what’s on that plate.”
Oh, shit.
He stared across the table at Reed, who was staring back at him, his gaze slightly widened.
He suspected his own shock was mirrored on his partner’s face.
They’d been around long enough in the local community to know what that little exchange had meant.
Matchmaker Tilly had just set her sights on a new target.
Them.
Up until Leigh had her baby, Tilly’s time had been greatly divided between LA and Sarasota. Tilly was Leigh’s personal assistant, an integral part of the smoothly running clockwork of Leigh, Lucas, and Nick’s production company. Now that Leigh was only a few months post-delivery, they were running their business from their Florida office, meaning Tilly was now home more and free to attend events.
And free to focus her matchmaking skills on her victims.
Eh, friends.
Thank god Eliza’s not here.
He’d no sooner thought that than the office door opened.
Oh, fuck.
In bustled Eliza, who barely took a second to glance around the club before homing in on Vanessa and swooping in to give her a teary hug.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner. I didn’t see Jenny’s text until late this morning, and the barbarian had a work thing we couldn’t ditch earlier tonight.”
When Lyle started to get up, Jenny leaned forward, caught him with glare cast with an arched eyebrow, and softly cleared her throat.
Message received. He eased himself back down into his chair and Jenny nodded, smiling.
Dammit.
Apparently all the women in their social group, regardless of what side of the D/s slash they played on, were cued into this quirky little code of fostering possibly budding romance.
He looked to Reed for guidance.
Reed shrugged and nodded toward her plate, which was going ignored with Eliza hugging Vanessa and whispering in her ear.
Lyle got the message loud and clear.
If she hasn’t eaten by the time Tilly returns, my ass is grass and Tilly’s Goatzilla.
* * * *
Reed wouldn’t deny watching his partner’s discomfort tweaked the sadistic side of him more than just a little.
It turned his crank, is what it did.
Also, the fact that Tilly was basically signing off on them, practically pushing them together, bolstered his spirits and made him feel less assholish for his earlier thoughts.
And only an idiot or a complete stranger to Tilly’s ways could have missed what she’d just done there. That Jenny had reinforced it to Lyle when he’d tried to stand and give his seat to Eliza only confirmed it.
Then, Jenny took a second to join the women’s hug, hugging them both, but he didn’t miss—although Vanessa no doubt did—how Jenny whispered what could have only been a couple of words into Eliza’s ear.
Eliza looked across the table, nailing him with her gaze.
Fuck.
If there was an Olympic sport for matchmaking, Tilly and Eliza would lead the US team to certain gold without a doubt, leaving the mangled bodies of the other countries’ teams in their wake. So he didn’t bother to question it when, five minutes later, he somehow had managed to be maneuvered by the other women to take Jenny’s place at the table, on Vanessa’s other side, while Vanessa went back to picking at her plate of food.
Tilly emerged from the office just as Eliza had been about to head into the office. Eliza and Tilly engaged in a quick, whispered conversation, high-fived each other, and headed back into the office together.
Vanessa missed all of this.
Lyle, however, saw it, his eyes going wide on the other side of Vanessa as Reed stared at him over her head.
Jenny leaned in and whispered in Reed’s far ear. “Suck it up, buttercup. It’s already been decided. Relax and enjoy.”
She patted him on the shoulder before straightening. “I’m going to go pick at the dessert table,” she said in a normal tone. “Nessie, want me to bring you anything, sweetie?”
She looked up, shaking her head. “No, thank you,” she quietly said. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish this or not.”
Jenny and Ken headed off.
He noticed that Vanessa’s energy seemed sapped compared to earlier. Probably the weight of everything hitting her, combined with the nervous adrenaline she’d likely felt before arriving at the club finally wearing off.
Her crash was imminent.
Taking a risk, he spoke up. “Are you doing anything tomorrow?”
She shook her head.
“Would you like to go out on the boat with us? It’s a shame to waste the day.”
“I…How long? I can’t leave Carlo.”
“Carlo?” His heart skipped. Had there been some crucial part of the story he’d missed?
“Basco’s—my dog.” She looked back down at her plate. “He’s my dog now, I guess.” She closed her eyes and his heart broke when he spotted silent tears falling aga
in. Of course, Basco’s dog. He’d loved his dog almost as much as he’d loved his sister.
He and Lyle nearly fought over the tissue box, Lyle grabbing it first and ripping a couple out to press into her hand.
“We’ll just go out for the morning,” Reed said. “We’ll even come pick you up. We’ll be back by early afternoon.”
Jenny seemed to magically appear behind Vanessa from out of nowhere. “I think that’s a great idea!” she said. “What time will you guys pick her up?”
Vanessa hadn’t even officially agreed to it, but from the way Jenny had placed her hands on Vanessa’s shoulders, somehow, Reed knew, she would get Vanessa to agree to it.
If it was the last thing she did.
And if she didn’t, she’d probably sic Tilly and Eliza on her, the tag-team from hell.
“We won’t leave real early. How about eight?”
“Eight’s perfect!” All Jenny missed was adding an enthusiastic squee to punctuate her statement.
Rusty, sitting across the table from them, said, “You know, I’m honestly not sure that it’s a good idea Vanessa drives herself home tonight.”
Betrayal from their own kind. Great.
“I think when she’s ready to leave,” Rusty continued, “one of you should drive her. The other can follow. And, bonus, you’ll know where she lives for tomorrow morning.”
“Excellent idea,” Jenny agreed.
Vanessa nodded, but didn’t look up.
Tony, Scrye, Kel, and the others had already left the table long ago. He looked to Ken for help.
He merely shrugged.
Vanessa was still dabbing at her eyes.
He glared at Rusty, who gave him a serene smile.
“Are you helping?” he mouthed at his friend.
“I’m not hurting,” Rusty mouthed back.
Reed rolled his eyes. He didn’t know how Rusty lived with Eliza.
Wait, yes, he did. Rusty was submissive to her.
Having a few random inappropriate thoughts on his own was one thing. To suddenly have what appeared to be the bulk of their friends encouraging something to happen was completely another—and uncomfortable—thing.
Hot Sauce [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations Page 9
