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I gave a sympathetic grimace while mentally rolling my eyes about my head. I may have a submissive tendency when it came to men and sex, but I knew equality in relationships did not mean taking money for granted. Jason kept me at the weekend but I would not dream of having him contribute towards my personal expenses or bills. The man may be swimming in money and ridiculous privileges but I was determine not to give him the impression I was a gold digger and after his wealth.

Libby was her usual quiet self and not giving anything away. I found her creepy. Her eyes and ears tracked everyone and anything, as if she was filing mental notes about the world about her. If she did not want to divulge personal information, fair enough. I had no plans to talk to her about any of my personal life, certainly not my sexual exploits.

***

My mobile phone emitted a ping - a text message. Jason had given me his personal mobile number, strictly for emergencies only or else there would be hell to pay.

“I don’t do mindless chit chat texts.” He had an awesome authoritarian glare on his face when he made the announcement early on in our relationship. I could not imagine purposeless chatter from Jason.

The message was from Jason.

: You need to use the gym. 3 sessions a week. You need to get fitter for what I have in mind for you.

I blushed and tucked the phone away quickly. Gosh, not what I expected on a Monday morning.

Tucked away in the basement was the company’s private gym. I did not like gyms, what with other people’s sweaty bodies and pop music blasted out perpetually. His message was not a request. His orders were to be obeyed without question. At least, that was my opinion. Later in the week, I regretted my lack of curiosity in seeking clarity about the extent of his controlling missive.

The next day I come in earlier, armed with my sweatpants and sleeveless t-shirt, and I joined those perspiring bodies as I pounded the treadmill for half an hour. It certainly increased my appetite for a mid-morning snack. I planned to do another session on Wednesday morning and the third after work on Thursday. My period arrived on Monday, perfect timing, it would be finished by Friday just in time for my weekend. I needed to sort out a doctor’s appointment to renew my birth control prescription too.

***

Thursday came around and I heard the muffled ringtone of my mobile phone, which was stashed in my handbag. Glancing around the office, I picked it up and recognised Trudy’s number.

“Gemma, we’re going out after work this evening. It’s Garth’s birthday, you’ve got to come. Please!”

“I’ve got stuff do.”

My last gym session was due and there would be no time the next day as I had wall-to-wall meetings.

“Tosh girl, Nicky will be there and you haven’t seen her for ages. We’re having a meal first, then pubs and end up at a club.”

A long night out on a work day? However, the temptation to spend time with my friends was overwhelming. I could do with a good boogie and letting off steam. What the hell, he would not know, too busy in his high powered world of mergers and acquisitions.

I dashed home and changed into something appropriate for a night out - stretch pants and a sparkly sequin top. High heels, though not too high, I did not want to sprain my ankles.

What an evening! We ate a hearty meal and hit a street renown for pubs. One drink in each and after the fifth I was very tipsy. The bar we ended up in had a good size dance area and the DJ played a range of music for a much needed dancing session. I wriggled my bum in front of Garth and his friend Tony. The place was hot and the sweat poured down my back and between my breasts. I looked like a wet t-shirt competition contestant.

Around midnight I threw the towel in.

“Look I have to work you. Tomorrow. It’s not the weekend,” I excused myself.

“You’re never about at the weekend,” commented Trudy.

Definitely time to scarper before she started asking why.

I crawled into the cab and tried desperately to cool down on the back seat. Paying the driver off had taken my last few notes. I did not even bother to shower, though I remembered to drink plenty of water, learnt that habit from bitter experience. I flopped on the bed into a dreamless sleep.

***

The world seemed extra bright that Friday morning as I downed two paracetamols and a large coffee. My head ached slightly and my throat was hoarse from all the shouting over the music. The day dragged, meeting after meeting and I found it difficult to concentrate. Eventually mid-afternoon, the liquid replenishment and food had helped me perk up. I needed to be ready for Jason’s enjoyable evening escapades.

Seven o’clock came round and the car pulled up. The car door opened and I found Jason in the back seat waiting for me.

“Hi” I said brightly.

His face was most unwelcoming, almost a scowl. Settling back in the passenger seat I decided not to press him for an explanation. Warning signs were going on off. Not long into the journey he took a call on his mobile. The topic of conversation went right over my head: the names and companies mentioned meant nothing to me. His tone was curt and he fired off a string of rapid questions to the other person. The conversation lasted virtually the entire journey to Blythewood House.

Jason was out of the car quickly and pounded up the entrance steps. I followed behind clutching my overnight bag. Depositing it in the hallway and slipping off my shoes, I tracked him into the house. He strode past the sitting room towards his study.


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