I called Linda and she said she would love to come over. She admitted she missed the kids already. I knew how she felt. But she also said the CEO wanting to meet me was only a good thing. She was also excited about the potential outcomes of the meeting and made me promise to call her as soon as it was over.
I only hoped Nathaniel would be as excited. I decided not to call him, but to leave a little early and stop by his office. It didn’t take long for me to shower and change. Linda had a key to the house, and by the time I’d finished getting ready, she’d let herself in and was playing with Henry. I tried to thank her again, but she waved it off, saying there was nothing she’d rather be doing.
Apollo padded over to the front door as I picked up my briefcase. He sat right under the doorknob and tilted his head as if saying, “Didn’t you just get back?”
“I’ll be back tonight,” I promised with a quick pat on his head. “It won’t be like the last time.”
He let out a big doggy sigh and lay down.
The ride into the city was uneventful, leaving me plenty of time to stop by Nathaniel’s office. The front desk clerk greeted me warmly and called to let Nathaniel’s admin know I was on my way up.
“Sara said Mr. West is in the employees’ gym,” he told me. “I’ll buzz you in.”
He usually worked out at home and I wondered why he was working out at the office. Working off extra tension?
When I found him, he was shirtless and doing push-ups. I glanced around the room, happy to see we were alone.
“Abby,” he said, standing up and wiping his face with a nearby towel. “Everything okay?”
For a split second I stood frozen, staring at his chest. Damn. He should never wear a shirt.
“Meagan called,” I started by way of explanation. Meagan would never be one of Nathaniel’s favorite people after that infamous night at the BDSM club, but he put up with her because she was my boss.
“What did she have to say?” he asked, though I was certain that wasn’t the question he really wanted to ask. Or maybe it was. Nah, he probably wanted to know what I was doing in the city and where the kids were.
“Mr. Black wants to meet with me,” I said, enjoying the way his eyes grew wide with surprise at my statement.
“That’s great. You’re going to see him now?”“Yes, he asked to meet this afternoon because he’s leaving for the West Coast later tonight.” I’d already decided I wasn’t going to ask permission. It was my job. My life. I wasn’t wearing his collar now. “Linda’s watching the kids.”
“Are you staying in the penthouse tonight or going back to the estate?” he asked.
“I’ll be heading back to the estate after. I’ve been away from home enough lately. I miss the kids.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
Our conversation was cordial enough, but it felt off. There was a weird lack of emotion in both of us. It made me sad how quickly things had changed between us.
“I’ll let you know how it goes,” I said, and then turned and walked out of the gym, hot tears filling my eyes.
Mr. Black was short, chubby, and balding. He seemed chronically short of breath, and I thought if he didn’t fall over dead from a heart attack sometime in the next few years, it’d be a medical miracle. If I’d seen him in a lineup, I never would have picked him as the CEO. Looks didn’t tell the complete story, however, because it became apparent as soon as I sat down across from him that his mind was sharp. He welcomed me and then proceeded to fill me in on the changes that would soon be implemented in the TV show and my relationship with it.
But as I listened to him, one thought popped into my head that I couldn’t shake.
Am I looking at Nathaniel in another ten years?
I tried to imagine the man I walked in on while he was doing push-ups earlier today becoming so busy that he didn’t have time to take care of himself, and he got this unhealthy. Was this what the demands of running a huge corporation meant? Would I be at risk to lose him? I couldn’t bear it. To raise the kids alone and to be without my soul mate?
“Everything all right, Mrs. West?” Mr. Black asked when he caught me staring at him. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him and realized I’d held my pen in a death grip. I wiggled my fingers. “Please, don’t let me interrupt.”
“I was just getting to your new proposed role.”
I sat up straighter in my chair and poised my pen to write.
“As you’re aware, your posts and cross posts from the Submissive Wife blog have some of the highest hit rates we’ve seen all year. We want to capitalize on that audience. We’d like for you to do a question and answer session, just ten minutes or so, at the end of the Monday night show.”