“Thank you,” she said with tears in her eyes. “We had the stupidest fight last night and I hate it when we argue. It doesn’t happen a lot, but we’re both really hardheaded.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” I pointed to the necklace I now knew to be a collar. “Are you twenty-four/seven?”
“No, we’re not. Daniel’s only Dominant in the bedroom. I wear his collar all the time, though. I like it that way—it keeps us connected.”
“Like the ring I wear.” I held out my right hand so she could see the second ring Nathaniel gave me when we married. “He has one, too. I only wear his collar when we’re in role.”
Her gaze traveled from my ring to lock on my collar. “So, tonight …”
“Yes, all week actually.”
“Have you done a week before?”
“No.” I shot her a smile. “But I’m sure you’ll soon be able to read how it goes.”
She laughed. “I look forward to it.”
We talked for a few more minutes. Listening to her reminded me so much of myself. She told me how she was a florist and met Daniel when he happened to stop by her store the first of the year. It was that chance meeting that finally pushed her to explore her interest in submission.
“Your story is a little similar to mine,” I said. “Except for one area.”
“What’s that?”
“I made the first move with my Master.”
That hadn’t been what she was expecting to hear and I laughed at her surprised expression. She recovered quickly, though. “You should blog about how you two met and have your readers share their stories.”
“That’s actually a great idea.” Not only that, but if WNN was truly interested in doing a new women’s television show, that could be a topic for a show. I’d have to run it by Meagan.
“Thanks,” Julie said. “One little question, is there a reason you aren’t using Nathaniel’s given name?”
“I never say his name when I’m wearing his collar,” I explained. “It’s just a small way to help keep me in my headspace.”She nodded. “Makes sense.”
Looking over her shoulder, I saw the men heading our way. “Looks like the guys have finished their conversation.”
Julie sighed as she watched the men coming toward us. “If that isn’t a fine-looking sight headed our way, I don’t know what is.”
Daniel walked up to Julie and slid his hand to rest on her lower back. She beamed up at him. Nathaniel’s fingers played with the hair at the nape of my neck.
“I told your husband I’d monopolized enough of his time,” Daniel said to me. “I know there are other people he’d like to speak with. But it was so nice to meet you both. Let’s try to do dinner while you’re in town.”
Nathaniel agreed and we said our good-byes.
“You and Julie appeared to hit it off,” he said when they were out of earshot.
“She’s very friendly. Her story reminds me of mine a little bit. And the best part is”—I felt all giddy again just thinking about it—“she reads my blog!”
“Does she? That is exciting.” He spoke briefly to an older gentleman who called a greeting to him before turning back to me. “Is that the first time you’ve met a reader?”
“The first one who isn’t a friend or relative.”
He smiled and started to say something, but was interrupted by another business colleague. Though he was introverted by nature, I always enjoyed watching him in a setting like this one. There was a certain kind of pride in seeing him converse so eloquently and seeing the people who listened so intently. The feeling only grew when he’d turn my way and introduce me as his wife.
We slowly worked the room, because a lot of people ended up approaching him. I smiled and nodded for the most part because he didn’t give me permission to speak. I’d grown so used to being silent, I was caught off guard when he nodded after a woman our age approached.
“Nathaniel,” she said, shaking his hand. She was tall and gorgeous, with honey-colored hair and long legs most women would kill for.
“Charlene,” Nathaniel said. “How nice to see you again.”
“Is this your wife? You must introduce me.” She spoke the last word while looking me up and down. It took me only two seconds of seeing how she acted around Nathaniel to recognize her type.
Bitch had eyes for my husband.
“Yes,” Nathaniel said, slipping an arm around my waist. Obviously, he knew her type, too. “This is Abby.”