Page 7 of Healing the Heart

“Hi, Val. Esme. I thought I’d mingle with the barflies for a bit.”On my last night, she added silently. She didn’t dare disclose that’s what this was though. They would try to talk her out of it.

“You should come on sub night,” Esme suggested.

Once a month, the submissives dressed up and pretty much took over the lounge. Valerie was the instigator, after visiting the San Antonio club and attending their Little Black Dress night. The flagship club had an amazing performer everyone wanted to see, but the LA monthly subs’ night out had a good turnout as well. So she’d heard; she’d never actually been.

“I invite her every month, and every month she’s a no-show,” Val said with a huff. “We submissives need time together to cut loose without our doms underfoot.”

“What? Do you run them off for the night?”

“As if we could,” Esme giggled. “But they understand the importance of communing with other subs and dial it back a bit. At least Keiran does.”

“Eric’s dial is stuck on one setting,” Val declared with a dramatic sigh. “He’s the master dom 24/7.”

“And you love it,” Esme pointed out.

“Yeah, but let’s keep that between us.” As if they were besties, the master dom’s sub winked at Fiona.

Maybe she should have taken her up on one of the dozen invitations. But too little, too late.

The gregarious blonde grabbed her hand and urged, “Please say you’ll come to our next sub night. It’s next Wednesday.”

“I work until nine two nights a week. Let me check my schedule.”

“Promise?”

“Yes,” Fiona agreed. However, she was deliberately vague about what she was agreeing to. She would check her schedule, but it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be able to attend because by then, she would no longer be a member.

“We’re being summoned,” Esme said, pointing to the dungeon doors where Masters Eric and Keiran were waiting. “See you next week, Fiona.” She grabbed Val’s hand and pulled her along while the petite blonde waved.

Regretting the missed opportunity to expand her slim network of friends when she had the chance, she turned back to her glass and drained it.

She didn’t order a second, also included. The band announced a break, and it seemed as good a time as any to head into the playroom—for the last time. Before she could swivel on her stool and hop down, she heard her name again. This time, it wasn’t someone excited to see her. Quite the opposite. She was the topic of a not-so-nice discussion at a nearby table.

“She’s pretty enough, but she’s a chub.”

Fiona didn’t react. She’d heard similar insults before. But the next words really stung.

“Subs like Fat Fiona are tempting because they’re so desperate to get fucked they’ll do anything and everything. And they’re fun to play with, especially to spank with that extra jiggle.” She heard male laughter, then the solo voice continued. “Fat cunts are fuckable when there’s no better option, but you wouldn’t want a steady diet of them, if you know what I mean.”

She felt as if she had traveled back in time to the playground of John F. Kennedy elementary. Gina Malloy, the most popular girl in the fourth grade, was the first to call her Fat Fiona, within earshot at least. Her little clique of mean girl wannabees all giggled in support of their queen.Yeah, at ten years old, several of her classmates had already mastered catty and outright mean. The other slurs she’d heard before, although not strung together in such a completely hurtful way. From tonight onward, they would be permanently linked.

She scanned the tables in the mirror. Needing to know who’d said it, to put a face to the cruelty. There were so many people and most of the doms had already paired up. Two tables contained only men. The first was a group of four arguing good-naturedly about sports. The other was a table of three.

When she turned on her barstool to face them, she skewered the trio with an icy glare. It was extremely disrespectful, but she didn’t care. Let them kick her out. Respect was a two-way street. If this was the sort of dom Club Decadence attracted, no wonder she wasn’t getting anywhere.

She recognized one of them. Jordan had approached her months back, but what he wanted to do to her bumped right up against her hard limits, and she’d declined. The second man, dark-haired and good-looking, she didn’t know. He nudged the third man. As if sensing her animosity, when his head swung her way, his eyes connected with hers. Deep blue and familiar.

Fiona had only seen Doc once or twice since that long-ago first night, but each time, she’d thought him the most beautiful man in the club, and that was saying something since most everyone was a nine or a ten on a bad day. She’d had a mad crush on him, and he’d starred in all of her naughty fantasies ever since watching his scene on the center stage. Which was what made his mockery and rejection sting even more.

Funny how with his shirt on he looked different and suddenly so much less attractive.

He returned her glare through narrowed eyes, appearing angry. Probably because she’d been eavesdropping on their private conversation.After what she’d just heard, his opinion didn’t matter.

Giving the table a dismissive glance, she noticed Jordan had a smug grin on his handsome face as his gaze dipped and slowly ran over her body. Then he shook his head, obviously finding her lacking. Or, since one of them had called her fat, maybe the better word was excessive.

Refusing to let them see her tears, she hopped off the stool, and, giving their table a wide berth, headed for the door, amazingly fleet-footed even in stiletto heels.

Someone called her name. Deep and resonant, it rose above laughter and conversation. But Fiona didn’t slow or turn back as she pushed through the crush of bodies, into the lobby then outside without even setting foot inside the dungeon.

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