Page 34 of Point of Contention

She rolled her lips together, then nodded.

“Everything happened how I told you guys. The elevator fiasco, the book…” I trailed off, trying to recall where in the timeline things changed and when I stopped telling my friends the truth about my budding relationship with Cabot Reed. “It just sort of happened. I never meant to lie to you guys.” My voice broke on the last word as emotion came over me. Guilt and shame, laced with regret. I should have told them what was going on, how my feelings were growing. Keeping Cabot a secret had caused even more drama in an already overwhelming situation. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, hon,” Eloise reached across the counter and placed her hand over mine. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

“But the others…”

“They’ll get over it.” She laughed. “Marcus is the most understanding person I’ve ever met. Marisa will forgive you. And Hector…” She laughed again. “Hector will probably be appeased by all the sordid details.”

Grinning, I said, “I’m going make his head spin.”

She laughed and asked, “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

With a deep breath, I said, “Yes. Definitely.”

After she left, I sighed loudly and tilted my head back, closing my eyes as I considered all that had transpired today. Not only was I working at White Rabbit, at least temporarily, but I was set to return to the internship, and I was about to get my friends back.

It was almost comical how everything felt so hopeless just twenty-four hours ago.

I couldn’t keep up with my own crazy life.

Nearing the end of my first night back at White Rabbit, the door from the street opened and a massive blond man in black leather pants and a snug gray sweater strode inside. I’d seen him before downstairs but had never interacted with him. His powerful energy filled the store, dominance rolling off of him in palpable waves. Where Cabot’s power was more discreet, a quiet hum just below the surface, there was no doubting that this man was a control freak.

He had to be at least six-foot-five, with shoulders nearly as wide as he was tall. Okay, obviously not, but might as well have been for how broad they were.

He held my gaze as he approached the cash register and I felt myself shrinking beneath his calculating stare. When he stopped at the counter, I gave him my practiced customer service smile.

His eyes were impossibly pale blue, like a glacier, with darker rings around each iris.

“She returns,” he said, a hint of amusement in his accented voice.

My smile faltered. He knew who I was.

He leaned over, resting his elbow on a display shelf, and whispered, “It’s ten o’clock, do you know where your master is?” He waggled his eyebrows and his tone implied a joke I wasn’t in on.

Unease crept over my skin.

I shook my head and returned my attention to the receipts I’d been sorting before he walked into the store. “I don’t have a master.”

“Interesting.”

After a few seconds, he still hadn’t moved to leave, so I looked back up at him.

“And what about your fiancé?”

My stomach twisted uncomfortably. “I don’t have one.” I shook my head, then plastered my customer service smile back into place and motioned toward the racks of lingerie. “May I help you find something in the store?”

“Sir.”

Cold water replaced the blood in my veins. My smile fell. “What?”

He leaned forward, his eyes terrifying in their intensity. “You will address me as Sir.”

I drew in a stuttering breath. “Yes, Sir.”

He tilted his head, searching my eyes for something. “Are you looking for a new master, pet?”

I shook my head quickly as fear spider-walked down my back.

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