Page 79 of Healing the Heart

“I’ll hurry.”

“No need. We’re reserved for four hours.”

Her eyes widened. The time blocks were usually only two, especially for the popular rooms.

“It was a huge favor and a lot of haggling.”

Eager to know which fantasy world awaited her, she quickly made her way to the locker room, the anticipation building with each step. She took care of nature’s call, which she’d learned early on as a submissive was crucial before getting into a scene. Nothing ticked a dom off more than having to untie, unwrap, unhook, or otherwise “un” only to have to do it up again after a potty break.

She touched up her makeup, her fingers itching to smooth her wildly tousled hair, but she resisted and returned her bag to her locker. They’d never reassigned it or changed the lock after she quit over a month ago. Master Eric must have suspected she’d be back.

Checking her appearance once more, she turned to leave but came face-to-face with a submissive—tall, willowy, with long hair in an unusually bright shade of orange, not red. Fiona had never actually met her before but knew her by reputation. Naomi often looked like she’d been sucking on a lemon. It wasn’t a good look for her angular facial structure. Currently, she wore the same pinched and sour expression as she stared down her nose at her.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the birthday girl.”

“I was just leaving,” Fiona murmured, sidestepping to get around her.

Naomi moved with her, though, blocking her exit.

“May I help you with something?”

“Like I need your help,” she replied in a scathing tone. “I saw you dancing with Doc. You were jiggling everywhere, pressing your fat rolls up against him. It was disgusting. They have shots now for morbid obesity.”

Fiona recoiled from her acerbic insults, as if she’d actually thrown acid in her face. Technically, to be considered morbidly obese, she would have had to be 100 pounds or more overweight. She carried an extra forty, down ten with all the stress she’d been under the past several weeks.

Where did this bitch, whom she’d never even met before, get off hurling insults at her? Especially when she was no beauty herself, and her caustic behavior alone made her ugly where it made a difference—inside.

“Get out of my way,” Fiona demanded.

“Why? I saw Doc waiting. Are you planning a scene with him? Please say it won’t be in the playroom. If it is, do us all a favor and keep your clothes on. All that jiggling and fat flapping will make everyone sick.”

Suddenly, a thunderous bang reverberated through the room, and an angry voice ordered sternly, “That is quite enough.”

Val, holding a half-laced-up corset to her chest stormed out of a dressing room and stalked toward Naomi.

“Oh look. It’s twins,” the other woman exclaimed. “But it’s so much worse for you,” she said with disdain as she gave Val a withering once-over. “Fat Fiona can lose weight. But you’re old, and, as far as I know, there’s no cure for that.”

“What is your problem? Other than you’re bitchy, need a professional to do something with that hair, and really need to eat a sandwich?” Val shot back. She suddenly held up her hand. “No, don’t bother answering. I don’t care, and I know Fiona doesn’t. You need to leave now before I call my husband. You remember who he is, don’t you?” She started to cross her arms then seemed to remember she was only half done up and leaned toward Naomi, rising on her toes to get in her face. “He’s the man I sleep with every night after sucking and/or fucking him into such a good mood he will do whatever I ask, includingkicking your scrawny butt to the curb.” She pointed to the door and demanded in a voice that said she was at the end of her patience, “Go. Now.”

Naomi seemed to suddenly grow a brain and quickly got out.

Fiona spun to face the half-dressed blonde, her knight in shimmery black satin. “That was amazing. You are my forever hero,” she declared before throwing her arms around her.

Val patted her back in return. “Thanks, but I don’t feel like a hero. She made me angry, and I sank to her level—nasty, name-calling, and skinny shaming. But I swear, Fiona, when she lit into you like that, I saw red.”

Yet another loud bang echoed throughout the room, but it came from the other direction—the outer door. “Fiona. Are you all right?”

“That’s Noah. I should go. I’ve been in here for a while.”

But a while had long since passed for her dom. The door slammed hard against the wall as Noah came striding in.

He halted, seeing them standing close, their arms around one another, with Val still only half dressed. “What’s wrong?”

“One of the other subs was out of sorts, sir,” Val told him. “Between the two of us, we sorted her out.” This wasn’t completely a lie. “I need to finish getting dressed before Eric comes looking for me.”

“He already did,” a deep voice said from behind Noah. “Are you sick?”

“No. Why would you ask that?” Val exclaimed.

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