Donna giggled. "There are some straight men at the office too. Worth, Frank, Lance…" Just saying the new photographer's name was unreasonably distasteful.
"Why the face? And who's Lance? I don't remember hearing that name before," Eric said as he went back to work.
As Donna tucked socks and underwear into another box, cushioning some framed photos she added to the box, she regaled Eric with the whole bad-mood-meeting-Lance day. She hadn't talked with the man since they were on the elevator. As far as she knew, he was helping Paul on assignment and working on some special photo shoot as a side gig. "Apparently, he hasn't told anyone what he's shooting, or where, just that he takes it very seriously. We're all supposed to be quite impressed, too." She rolled her eyes as she worked.
Eric tried to sound disinterested when he asked for a description. He's jealous! "Oh he's very handsome," she teased. "Like a movie star. Seriously, though, he's okay. Dark hair, dark complexion. You know how a person can remind you of someone else? Universal looks. Nothing that really stands out." Except his innuendos. A few of the other women had complained among themselves, which was actually a relief to Donna. At least he hadn't singled her out for his unwanted attentions.
Eric reached high for something at the top of his closet. His hair was loose, cascading onto his shoulders. Lance is no match for my Eric, Donna thought. Maybe a little time apart would make him want to be a bit more aggressive, more "take charge", but she also knew that she'd miss him terribly. Just the thought of the upcoming separation brought tears to her eyes.
When she sniffled, Eric turned around. "My high school baseball trophy!" He held up a small gold figurine atop a base. "I was a pretty good hitter."
Donna wiped her nose on the edge of her t-shirt and bent over provocatively in front of him. "Maybe now that you're not a hitter, you could be a spanker…" she purred.
In answer, Eric swatted her behind as he walked past to pack the trophy. "No time now, that's for sure. But the end is in sight."
He was right. They had so much to do before he left, with not long in which to accomplish it. She'd texted Jessica today to let her know the new wedding date, immediately receiving a barrage of happy emoticons from across the globe. The honeymoon was obviously going well.
She also texted Carol, who'd become a sort of mother figure recently, checking in to see how she was. Carol had been pretending last month, she was sure, when she said she needed Donna's help moving into the new condo she and Chet found. "Family" wasn't something Donna had experienced in a very long time, and she drank it all in like a thirsty sponge.
Eric and Donna decided to have a small chapel ceremony, with just a few of their closest friends. Jessica and Worth, and Carol and Chet, of course. The six of them had talked about all going out to dinner after Abu Dhabi, but now, there might not be time. Eric's personality didn't lend itself to having a lot of friends, but he did want to include a few guys who'd worked with him on the city hall job.
Donna had stopped by the job a few times, surprised at how friendly and open Eric was with the laborers, how authoritative he was. She'd thought about it a lot since—maybe he enjoyed being a sub all the time because at work, everything was his responsibility.
I'd like to be the sub for the same reason, Donna mused. I've been in charge of everything in my life for so long. It would be nice to follow his lead for a change. Give it time.
It was the next night when Eric brought up the idea of a hobby or second job to Donna. "Do you have any ideas? I don't know how I feel about you being out alone at night. Or even here alone at night, for that matter. I hope they catch the peeper soon." Four other women had filed reports, according to the evening news. Eric walked over to the bedroom window and pulled down the shade. "You never know."
"No, leave it up! Without sunlight, I'll never wake up in the morning." They were both exhausted, but the packing was almost done.
Eric let the shade back up then watched from the bed in Donna's room as she sat at a dressing table, brushing her curls. "Hobby? Job?"
"Well," she said, putting down the brush as she swiveled around to face him. "The club has an opening."
"The club? What club… oh. That club." Eric's eyes widened. Their first night together had followed a frank discussion of Donna's research for the article on the S & M club in town. Very hush-hush from all outward appearances, but apparently, business was booming.
"Everything is handled with the utmost discretion," Donna explained, "so the owner's extremely picky, even nervous, about new hires. She called the other day, though, thanking me again for the article—it came out months ago, but people are still making inquiries on her website because of it. Her numbers have really shot up." Donna made a little face. "But going from a few couples getting together to live out their fantasies is quite different than running an actual business. There are fees, rules, check-in and check-out. She runs a tight ship."
"I'll bet she does," Eric said dryly. "I'll bet she can really crack a whip, too."
Donna threw her brush at him. "Businesswoman first, dominatrix second. Anyway, she's gotten so busy with the business side, she hasn't had time for, well, doing what she does best, apparently. She's added rooms, renovated, hired someone to manage the website. For something so "secret", it's gotten pretty popular. And while she thanked me for providing objective, positive
