“I’m not saying I’m ready to quit. Just humor me. How did you know it was time?”

She exhaled sharply. “It stopped being worth it and I started to resent my clients. I went from loving it, thriving off my sessions, to feeling like I was selling pieces of my soul for far cheaper than what they were worth. I stopped getting anything but money out of it and I could earn that with far less energy and more comfortable shoes.”

I nodded, trying to remember what work had been like when she retired. She hadn’t given me any indication of what she was going through, but that was hardly surprising.

“Here’s the thing,” she said, looking at me levelly. “Because I’d inherited the dungeon from Lady Carolyn, I had an avenue to retire without completely giving up what I loved about this world. What would you be giving it up for? You walk away now at the height of your career and do what? Cash your check and go live in a cottage in the woods somewhere? I don’t see it. You’d go stir-crazy. You’ve got a better understanding of people than anyone I’ve ever known and it’s what makes you such an incredible domme. Don’t throw that away because you’re all up in your feelings over some guy.”

This conversation was giving me whiplash. She’d never been that complimentary once in all the time I’d known her.

The waiter came back to the table with drinks and took our orders.

When he’d left, I asked, “How did it go with our royal friend, Mickey Mouse, by the way?”

“It’s not until Friday.”

“But you’re still doing it?”

“Why are we talking about this?” she snapped.

Suddenly, a conspiracy theory that was simply too wild invaded my brain and I couldn’t shake it. Was there something more between them?

I’d been reading too much romance.

We ate our meal while discussing everything that had been happening at the dungeon in my absence.

“Did you hear Reaper is doing a reality TV show?” she asked.

“No way? With whom?”

“Instagram. They’re apparently starting to do shows now and he’s going to be their splashy first reality show. I’m sure it’ll be a dumpster fire.”

“Is it going to be them following him around chronicling his life as a male escort?”

It was a relief to finally be in a place where I could think of Reaper without it hurting.

She shook her head. “From what I understand, it’s more like The Bachelor, but kinky. Which to be honest, sounds like my catnip. But I can’t watch Reaper hooking up with a bunch of women on camera. He’s like my annoying little dickhead brother. It’s too foul.”

“Is it just women?” I asked. “No way Reaper would allow himself to be pigeonholed like that.”

“You know, that’s a good point. I wonder if it’s a pansexual dating show.”

“Must be. Sounds like good TV. How’s the new sub working out?”

She sighed and shook her head. “Now there’s a smartass masochist if ever I’ve met one. If she doesn’t stop mouthing off to her clients and deliberately getting marked, I’m going to fire her. She’s one of the best subs I’ve come across in a long time, but she’s a little firebrand. Ophelia probably isn’t the best influence on her.”