She waved a fry at me as she said, “You better still be my friend when you’re super famous. You don't want me as an enemy.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “You’d be a sexy nemesis.”

She blew me a kiss.

I said, "I didn’t want to be the public face of BDSM, but since it’s happened anyway, I might as well make the most of it. This will open doors I haven’t ever dreamed of having access to.”

“Like Lady Elena: Sex Psychic?” She blinked at me innocently again and once again my murder stare had no impact on her.

“Like giving me a platform people will listen to if I ever try to share some of what I’ve learned at the dungeon. I can handle running into Max. Alex Chase is a Boy Scout. He might piss me off, but he doesn’t have the power to fuck me up.”

She glanced at her watch. “Don’t you have holds to pick up? Library closes in ten minutes.”

I jumped up from the booth, gave her a hug, and tossed down money to cover our snacks, eager to pick up my stack of library holds that had all come in at once.

She called after me, “Don’t stay up all night reading. I need you battle ready and not haggard-looking for our meeting tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I shouted back.

4

Elena

As Ophelia and I approached the ACA offices for our scheduled meeting to finish negotiations, I pretended it was just another session, albeit in the glass-walled building of the most prestigious Hollywood talent agency rather than in the cozy dungeon where the majority of my sessions took place.

We hadn’t coordinated our outfits ahead of time, but nonetheless, we’d both shown up in power dresses and stiletto Mary Janes. Something about knowing how many men I’d had literally lick these shoes in submission always boosted my confidence when I wore them in a public setting.

My cream-colored dress draped at the neck without showing any cleavage, was belted around the smallest part of my waist, and flared out into a voluminous skirt that reached my mid-shin. It was Old Hollywood sophistication and class.

Ophelia’s dress didn’t hug her curves, it fucked them slow and dirty. She was covered from mid-calf to her neck, looking sleek and professional, but something about that midnight blue pinup dress always left me feeling like I knew exactly what she looked like naked. Although, to be fair, I did know exactly what she looked like naked. Which is why I knew she had “Made in China” tattooed on her left ass cheek.

Our heels were clicking in sync on the concrete as we reached the building. “Here’s the plan,” she said. “If Alex is at the meeting, we’ll start the preliminary talks, then when I nudge you, you’re going to need to step out to take an urgent phone call. You’re above this and it’s going to be harder to maintain the aura of your mystique if you’ve been through negotiations about whether he’s allowed to get to third base. It’s tawdry. I’ll text when you can come back in.”