Suited

Twenty Three

I fell asleep Sunday night alone in the bed of the lustra. It felt a little strange to call it my room because I wasn't paying for it. Part of me felt like a freeloader but my ass felt like I was paying over market value for the pretty, kinky, little room. Then again, it was a nice room, and according to my Master—yes, I still giggled internally every time I said that—I was an expensive whore, so, maybe I was contributing the right amount. And I was cooking dinner? And not burning it?! Oh yeah, I was paying just enough.

"Good morning."

I flinched. "Jesus Christ!" How long had he been standing there?

Signore chuckled. "No, just me. There is a power outage at New Pass."

"What?" I mumbled, still wiping the sleep out of my eyes and wishing the curtains were shut but he'd been the one to open them so they'd stay that way.

"Your rehabilitation center does not have electricity. Therefore, they are closed for the day and you will be dressed in half an hour."

"To go where?" The sun was only halfway risen.

He looked down at his watch that matched his tie. He always matched them. He had several. "I'm taking you to work with me."

I laughed. "No you're not. Gabriel would kill me if he saw me there."

"No he won't. I'll make sure of it. Twenty nine minutes."

"Do we have time to f—"

"You are dawdling." He walked over to the closet and unhooked a freshly steamed outfit to thrust in my face. "Get dressed. I am late enough as it is."

Oh? "Sir, I don't have to go. I could stay—"

"No. I want you accounted for."

"Jessie could—"

"Jessie could nothing. He is in D.C. with your father negotiating with the government. Can you please get dressed, bello?"

I took the hanger out of his hand and stood. He looked exhausted. "Are you okay, Sir?"

"No." He said that a little louder than normal but it wasn't quite a yell, yet it was than a firm order. Just loud. Tired. Not a whine. He didn't whine. It was more of a snap. Then he sighed. "I apologize. I didn't sleep much. I need more coffee."

I hated to see him like this, all hollow and upset and panicky. He looked like I did most of the time. I did like him in glasses though. I had no idea he needed them. I started changing. I'd showered last night, thoroughly. "I'll take care of it. Sir?"

"Hm?"

"You missed a spot. May I fix it? I'm good with a razor."

He felt his face until he found the one patch I was talking about and looked down at my arms and back up at me with skeptical eyes. "Are you?"

What? Oh my—"Not like that! I don't—I meant to shave! Why would you say that?"

He looked back down at them. "It's hard to tell what's scratches and what's not."

"They're all scratches. That's not even how I—" I needed to stop talking. "Never mind." I did up my buttons in silence.

"How do you then? I know you harm yourself."

Sleep deprived Signore was not as nice as sleepy horny Signore and that was saying something because he wasn't the nicest then either. Noted. He was gonna be in this bed tonight whether he liked it or not. "I haven't in a while."

"I don't care. I'd like to know." I hesitated. "If you don't tell me, I will simply ask Jessie." I tucked in my shirt and he stared at the side of my face. "Is it your hair?"