Help Wanted [*Complete*]

20

"The Submissive should use discretion at all times when discussing the arrangement with Sir. It is permissive to speak about having an arrangement with a dominant but on must never speak of your dominant's name even to others within the lifestyle. If a submissive feels the need to communicate the identity of their dominant they may refer to them as Mr. or Ms. followed by their last initial."

Tuesday after we got back Lacy demanded I meet her for lunch at little café a few blocks from WAKE Tower. I missed being able to talk to Lacy. When I got to the place I was shocked to find it was one of those fancy restaurants that you needed a reservation for and to dress a certain way to not have the wait staff look at you as though you were from another planet. The décor was tasteful pale colors with dark wood for accents and it was packed shoulder to shoulder with business meetings. The chatter of the room was deafening, at the same time as I glanced at the faces at the tables I passed I couldn't help but to wonder if any of them were members of The Society. The thought gave me a little secret smile, one of those that only tugs at half your lips and makes you seem a little devious.

Lacy, as always, saw me first and squealed. She jumped up and pulled me into a tight hug, which my nipple piercings did not like in the slightest.

"Oh my god! The week I've had." She shook her head as she sat down, there was a glass of white wine in front of her.

"I can see."

"Yeah, I know I'm a bad girl, drinking before five. Whatever, I've earned it. So... before I dump all over you. How have things been? Did the new Dom take it well with Mr. Emery whisking you away for a week in London?"

"He was okay with it for the most part." I scratched my temple.

"Hopefully he stays okay with it after he sees you in a two-thousand-dollar Alexander McQueen dress."

"Holy shit, really?"

"Mhm. I treated myself to one when I made partner."

"Mr. Emery bought it for me."

"Ah, careful."

"No, it's nothing like that."

It really, really isn't. It's just sex. But I can't tell you because I signed an NDA.

"If you say so. So, tell me about London."

"It was boring. Lots of meetings, lots of phone calls, lots of work."

"Did you get to sight see?"

"Nothing beyond the view from the penthouse. I guess technically I saw all of London but from a good fifty stories up. I don't think that counts."

"Well what matters is that you're back. And you know I'm going to ask this... only because you've been gone for a week." Oh god not this. "Did you remember to take your meds?"

"I'm fine."

I haven't taken my meds since I got fired.

"Okay. You know I just worry about you." She flashed me a smile.

"How's the dating going?"

"I met a guy kind of." She giggled and took another sip.

"How do you kind of meet a guy?" I quirked a brow.

I guess, I kind of met Mr. Emery.

"Okay, this is supposed to be hush hush super-secret need to know, but I'm probably going to use this to help you out so... Okay. There's this...club called The Society, they only accept the very rich or very successful. They cater specifically to people with certain leanings." She winked.