Twice a year, we meet for a pow-wow and meeting of the minds. I’d call it a business trip, but that would mean we get together to discuss what’s working in our businesses, and what’s not. But mostly, it’s Chadwick bitching and complaining, being Chadwick.
We all grew up together, seven in all. Chadwick was the lonely rich boy whose parents left him all the time in the hands of the servants. I was one of the servants’ kids, all of us, but Chadwick was the prince to be fawned over. My parents were in charge of yard maintenance. Anton and Gio’s parents took care of the housework. Greer’s mom was his nanny, and as he got older, the caregiver. Jared’s dad was the driver. His mother was the cook. Cord’s parents oversaw the staff. To say they had a shitload of money was an understatement.
Chadwick never wanted to stay in the large house by himself, and between Jared’s parents and Greer’s mom, they raised him as theirs. He was all a part of our families. It was quite sad, really. Chadwick was always happier when he was in the care of the staff and not in the custody of his parents.
To Chad, we could always do better, and sure, he is a self-proclaimed asshole, but he also has the biggest heart for those he cares about. Chadwick paid for our college, every single one of us, so we could attend school together. None of our families could afford to send us to UCLA, but he made some deal with his dad to make it happen.
“I don’t know about you, but the Dungeon Elite of Seattle is doing above expectations on membership, and our nightly sales are up, too. Plus, we’re building, so I have no idea what he could bitch at me about.” I give him my normal I have this arrogant smirk. “So give me ten minutes. I’ll be ready to go.”
“By the way, you know you talk in your sleep? Right?” Anton asks, stopping in the threshold of the door. “And when I say you talk in your sleep, I mean, you moan and shout to someone you call precious…very, very loud.”
Well, hell, he’ll bust my chops for this, but he doesn’t know who she is. Not yet.
Chadwick drones on and on about the bottom line. He’s preaching to the choir because all of us, including our lawyer, attended business school. With Chadwick’s unconventional hunger for control, he’d shared his business plan with us early on, him being the backing because none of us came from money like he had. His relentless howling grates on my last nerve, and I’m about to rationalize this with a fuck you asshole when Jared stands from an almost lounging position, jumping up like a jack-in-the-box.
“Chad, man, you realize you’re talking to us like we’re little kids?”
Jared can call Chadwick out on things none of us, except maybe Greer, would dream of saying to him.
“Maybe if you little boys would act like men, then I wouldn’t have to treat you like babies.”
Greer, our lawyer, the clown, and a man who can put our best friend in his place with a smirk, stands next to Jared. “So, the bottom line, sales are up amongst all club bars by thirty percent. Membership is up by twenty percent, and we have a waiting list from three to nine months. I think what Chad wants to say is good job, guys. Now, maybe we should let him go find his gal, and she can work wonders with this cantankerous son of a bitch. Lord knows he's a grumpy Gus when she’s not attached to him.”
It’s true. Since Chadwick's engagement to Eve, he’s an entirely different person the instant she walks into the room. He never travels without her, and she’s never far from him.
“You sons of bitches are right.” He lets out a playful chuckle as all seven of us move, thinking lightning will strike. Will he admit he’s wrong? “Not about you being boys, because you jackasses are little boys, but about me finding my kitten. Let’s break, find your girls, have some fun, and let’s meet back at the club for a nice dinner.”
The asshole digs the knife deeper when it comes to Anton, Greer, and me. Anton is amid some complications he won’t talk to me about. Greer is not into women, nor does he do commitment.
Then there’s me, who never gets out of sorts over not having a girl of my own. I can find what I need relatively painlessly, someone for the night to rule, control. His words would typically not bother me, but both heads on my body have been transfixed on the precious gem I can’t have.
Anton leans down because we drove here together. He’s gripping his cell tightly, and I think he’ll break it in two. “Hey, I have to run. I have something I need to take care of. I’ll meet you back at the club.”
I’m about to ask logistics to figure out what he’ll do for a car when he dashes away from me, and my cell phone rings. It’s the familiar tone of my dungeon master.
“Hey, man,” I say to Jay, one of the three dungeon masters who runs the club on various nights. He’s the lead, my number two, and my point of contact for all issues. He never calls to simply shoot the shit with me.
“Good afternoon, Maddox. I know you’re in the middle of your business meeting with Mr. Westbrook. However, I needed to chat with you about a new Dom who would like to enter into a contract with one of our subs.”
I've never been involved in this. It’s never my concern unless the sub is mistreated. If that’s the case, the Dom better get ready to be blackballed from not only our club, but also every other club I have a good standing with.
It’s a unique situation for all Dungeon Elite clubs. We have an area for new subs who are unable to find a Dom, so they can be matched up with someone. Sometimes they come to the club and hope Doms will choose them for the night, and everything runs through the dungeon master.
“Is there a problem? I never get involved in this part of the business, not unless…” I’m about to lose my shit because nothing gnaws away at me more than a sub being mistreated.
“No, Sir, it’s just the submissive is…” He trails off as if he’s scared to tell me.
“What is it, Jay?” I ask, curious by this whole exchange.
“It’s Jewel Atkins. I thought you’d want to know that a new member has requested to sit down with Jewel in the next couple of hours about becoming his sub.”
Anton’s vehicle issue is something of the past and not a blip on my radar anymore. I make it to my car, shifting it into gear and speeding from downtown Seattle to Ballard in less than fifteen minutes.
Chapter Two
Jewel
I gaze at my reflection in the mirror at the person looking back at me. I’ve always been told I’m pretty, and I guess in my long blond locks, natural curves, and the green eyes of my reflection, I see it, but why doesn’t he?
I’ve never been this girl. I’ve never pined for another. The only boy I’ve kissed was Johnny Carrol. His mother is best friends with my mom. It makes sense on paper that we’d date, marry, and Johnny would take over my dad’s church.
Last night, it all came to a head when Johnny came over to ask me for a long engagement as he would court me before the wedding date. It had been so very formal and not romantic in the least. And never has he turned me on—not for one second.
Sometimes, the most logical plans are the most boring, too, and when I told my parents I wouldn’t marry Johnny, my father almost flew through our roof. Dad doesn’t support me in wanting a higher education. I was offered a scholarship, but he’d hidden it from me until it was too late.