Page 73 of A Good Girl's Guide to Dominance
“Yeah,” I say, looking down at the couch next to me but deciding against moving to it just in case this doesn't go well. “Want to go for a drink? Sure looks like you could use one … or six.”
The corner of his mouth threatens to lift into a smirk, but he forces it away. “I don't know. I should probably just go home. Shouldn't even have come to work today.”
“What exactly is wrong?”
Rome shakes his head as if he can't believe the answer himself, but he doesn't let me in on the secret. “Nothing … nothing that I want to talk about.”
I want to pry, and not just to be nosy. I want to know what’s going on with him today because I care about him. It matters to me what Rome is going through, but it’s clear that he doesn't want to get into it right now. Maybe he will when he feels like the time is right. At least that’s what I hope.
“Alright. Well, are you sure? I think a few drinks might loosen the muscles in your face a bit. You look like you're turning to stone.”
Finally, Rome’s mouth turns up at the corner and he smiles for me. He lowers his head, grinning for the first time today.
“It’s dangerous talking shit to me right now, my little goddess,” he says.
“What? I just wanted to make you smile. You'd do the same for me. Now come on. We’ll hit Heartless Tavern right up the street, have a few drinks to relax, and then you can go home and try to figure out how to not scare the living shit out of everyone in the office tomorrow. Okay?”
Rome grins again, almost involuntarily, before relenting. “Okay.”
Heartless Tavern is as empty as I would expect it to be on a weekday just after work. There are a few people scattered across the bar, but when Rome and I walk in, it’s easy for us to find two stools next to each other. We take our seats beneath the bright white and red lights reading “Heartless,” ignoring the large bearded man next to us who looks like he hasn't left the bar in weeks. The bartender is a woman who is probably in her late thirties, with purple hair cut just above her shoulders and a hoopearring in each nostril. Her black lipstick glistens, reflecting the white lights when she smiles at us, awaiting our drink order.
“Cranberry vodka,” I tell her as soon as I'm settled.
“DisAronno on the rocks, please,” Rome says.
“You got it,” the bartender replies before stepping away to fill the orders.
She drops the drinks off in front of us, and Rome immediately knocks back half of his, sucking in air to cool his scorched throat.
My eyebrows climb upward. “Well, damn. Sierra and Simon had their budgetsthatmessed up, huh?”
Rome chuckles, which still manages to fill my stomach with butterflies. “They were, but they weren't. I didn't have to react the way I did. Just a bad day, and … I don't know.”
“We don't have to talk about it right now,” I say, placing a hand on top of his. “We all go through things that no one else can see. I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. You seem to be doing better already, so my mission has been accomplished.”
“Iamdoing better,” he says. “Thanks to you. You're incredible, you know that? You have no idea what it means to me to be sitting here with you, enjoying your beauty and conversation. Especially today. It’s everything, Nia.”
I smile with a playful shrug. “Glad to be of service, Sir. You make me happy all of the time. Returning the favor is the least I can do. Now finish that drink and order another, then you’ll be feeling like you're floating on a cloud above all of your problems.”
“There you go thinking you can tell me what to do,” he says, shaking his head as he smirks. “Who’s in charge again?”
I smile from ear to ear. “You are, Sir.”
“That’s right,” Rome says before lifting his glass. “But Iamgoing to listen to you and finish this drink. Who doesn't want to float on a cloud?”
Both of us laugh as the door to the bar opens and a small group of guys walks in. Rome and I ignore them, continuing to smile and laugh as we both take long gulps of our drinks and nearly finish them. As I set mine down on the white and red napkin in front of me, I feel the bearded man next to me brush my shoulder as he gets up to leave, followed by another person taking his place. But this person bumps me so hard it nearly knocks me off my stool. When I look over to say something, I pause when I recognize his face. He stares at me, raising his head and looking down at me over his nose. I know those beady little eyes and the douche-bag gaze in them. It’s fucking Zane from FET, who I mistakenly almost had sex with months ago.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he says with all the confidence in the world. “If it isn't Nia, the girl who claimed to be a sub but wouldn't submit. Long time no see. Sorry for bumping your shoulder, but if I’d known it was you I would've done it harder.”
My heart speeds up as I let out a sigh, because seeing this asshole is the last thing I need, and not just right now. It’s the last thing I needever.
I don't have anything to say to him after the way he treated me at his house—when I had to storm out on his goofy ass because he wouldn't respect my use of the safe word, and tried to guilt trip me into a butt plug. People in this lifestyle do not play about their limits, and it isn't something that should ever be contemned. With that in mind, I roll my eyes and turn around to face Rome, who hasn't noticed Zane’s arrival.
“What, you're just going to ignore me?” Zane says, talking louder, his assertiveness unwavering as he still thinks he can intimidate me. “I know we got off on the wrong foot last time, but maybe we could rekindle the flame and try again. What do you say, Nia?”
“I saygo fuck yourself,” I snap, trying to suffocate him with my evil glare.
“Wow. Still so hostile,” Zane says. “Nice to see you're still a prude with a shitty attitude.”
