They all laughed, Ana a beat later than the others because she didn’t actually get the joke, but Rae still looked worried. Thankfully, Marcus and Julia seemed to accept her explanation at face value.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mitch returning to his table, but he didn’t sit down. He leaned down and said something to his dad, giving the older man a quick hug, then walked out the front door. He didn’t look in her direction. Didn’t even glance.
The inside of her chest felt like it was starting to rip open. Her emotions were coming back into focus.
“Mommy?” Ana’s voice pushed them down again, leaving her once more in control.
Smiling, she looked down at her daughter. Her joy. Her constant.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Can I have the ravioli and the macaroni and cheese?”
“Sure, baby, it’s your birthday,” Domi said automatically. “You can have whatever you want.”
Ana should have whatever she wanted. One day, she wouldn’t be able to have something she wanted. One day, she would want something more than she’d ever wanted anything else in the world, but it wouldn’t be within her power to get it. It would have to be given… by someone else. That person might decide not to give it to her. They might run away at the first confrontation, leaving her bereft and hurting.
Until that time, Domi was going to make sure her daughter had any small thing she wanted.
Domi, too. Tonight, she was going to want Rae and Ben and Jerry. First, though, she had to get through this dinner, then get Ana to bed.
“Excuse me.” The charming Scottish accent made Domi jerk her head up. Mitch’s dad smiled down apologetically at her, holding out his hand, and she automatically took it. This time he didn’t shake it, just held her fingers in his warm palm. “I wanted to say it was verra nice to meet you. I upset my son before you came in, and he wasna able to give us a proper introduction, but I can tell he cares about you verra much.”
“Thank you,” Domi said robotically.
“G’night then.” He nodded his head, returning to his table to pick up a to-go bag of food, then following his long-gone son out the door.
Domi realized everyone at her table was staring at her.
“Uh, Domi? Was… is… are you seeing…” Marcus' voice trailed off, and his eyes darted to Ana, who looked concerned but also very confused.
Mother fucker.
“Let’s talk about it later, shall we?” She pushed her smile back onto her face, pretending she didn’t see the look Marcus and Julia exchanged as she focused back on Ana. “Dinner tonight is all about Miss Birthday Girl here.”
“Yay!” Ana beamed at her. “Can I have pudding and cake for dessert?”
“Sure,” Domi said. She had a feeling she was going to want to binge on her daughter’s leftovers later tonight. Ben and Jerry’s might not be enough to cut it.
Mitch
After leaving the restaurant, Mitch drove without really thinking about where he was going or even looking at the road. It was a freaking miracle he didn’t get into an accident.
Somehow, without thinking about it or meaning to, he ended up at Marquis. There was even a parking space right in front of the building as if it was waiting for him to arrive. Staring blankly at the front of the restaurant, Mitch wasn’t sure he really wanted to go in.
On the other hand, he didn’t know where else to go and could seriously use a drink. Somewhere to sit. Driving more probably wasn’t a good idea.
His stomach rumbled.
Food would be good. He’d left without getting his dinner, unable to stay in the restaurant and around his dad or Domi for one minute more. Food, a drink, and some time and space to think.
To hurt. Fuck. He’d broken up with Domi.
Mitch rubbed his chest, then started moving, getting out of the car, and going into the restaurant. He figured even if his dad came here with Master Patrick and the others, it wouldn’t be until later, and hopefully, they’d come in the back door.
Huh. He wondered if Patrick got the idea for Marquis from the Outlands. Mitch had never known Outlands was anything other than a regular restaurant during the day and a dance club at night. The idea seemed horribly possible.
Waving off the hostess, he headed straight for the bar, where there were thankfully still several open seats. Sliding onto one, he waited for the bartender, Shane, to notice him. He was an older gentleman who bartended because he liked it. He’d once told Mitch he enjoyed talking with all the different kinds of people who came by, though he wasn’t a fan of Mitch’s puns and bad jokes.
Bald with a salt and pepper goatee, broad shoulders, and a permanent half-smile on his face, he had the kind of aura that made people feel immediately comfortable around him. Seeing Mitch sitting down, Shane took one look at his expression and raised one eloquent eyebrow. He didn’t even ask what Mitch wanted, just turned around and started mixing.
Staring at the rows of liquor bottles above Shane’s head, Mitch wondered when his life had gotten so out of control. Had it been when he couldn’t let Domi go the first time she’d tried to end things between them? Had it been halfway through their bondage buddies’ arrangement when he hadn’t realized he was falling for her? Or was it from the very beginning, when he’d asked her to be his bondage buddy?
A multi-colored drink slid in front of him. Mitch stared at it.
“What is it?”
“Does it matter?” The half-smile on Shane’s face lifted slightly, turning a little fuller. “It’s a whiskey sour with a little something extra.”
Sour was exactly how Mitch felt. He hadn’t had one before, but he trusted Shane. The man was a master at mixology, and the few times he’d ignored Mitch’s usual preference for beer,
