More scared of what she may find out about herself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Wyatt sat at his kitchen table Friday afternoon and flipped through the profiles of the retreat attendees that his assistant had researched and compiled for him this week. He scanned each guest’s business, hobbies, and personal causes. Hollis Myers: CEO of movie theater chain, plays a lot of cards (blackjack not poker), donates regularly to the American Cancer Society and the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. Cam Berthelot: head of natural gas drilling company, enjoys deep-sea fishing, has a second home in Florida, and donates to the Red Cross. Belle Pritchard: owner of bridal shop chain and wedding planning business, big into supporting local small business owners, and donates to grassroots organizations and an LGBT legal defense fund.
Wyatt scribbled a few notes, but those were mainly for Kelsey. He knew some of these people already. And for the ones he didn’t, his memory had always been photographic so he wouldn’t need a cheat sheet after reading through the list a time or two. But the more each of them knew about the guests, the better shot they had at making relevant conversation and engaging them. People liked to talk about themselves; you just have to give them an opening and a topic. The hard part for him was always the talking-back portion. He didn’t know how to fill space with airy chitchat. He usually ended up talking business, which made people’s eyes glaze over, or he’d make some obscure movie reference and no one would get it. He’d learned early in life that keeping that shit to yourself was much wiser than getting that what-the-fuck-is-he-talking-about? look.
His cell phone rang, buzzing against the table and breaking through the silence of the empty house. The name of his driver flashed on the screen. He hit the speaker button. “What’s going on, Henry?”
“Ms. LeBreck declined my offer to be picked up,” he informed him with that to-the-point tone of his.
Wyatt glanced up from his paperwork, a sinking feeling in his gut. So he’d been right to worry. Kelsey had changed her mind. “I see. Did she say why?”
“I had informed her of your requested itinerary of dinner out and then a return to your home. She said she had a few errands to run first and wanted your address so she could drive herself directly. She was rather insistent.”
Wyatt blinked. “She’s still coming?”
“Of course, Mr. Austin. I just wanted to inform you of the change in plans. She didn’t give me an indication of what time she’d be arriving. I didn’t want you to be caught off guard.”
Wyatt leaned back in the chair, more relieved than he cared to admit. “Thank you, Henry. I’ll be sure to be prepared for her.”
“You’re welcome, sir. Do you need anything else from me this evening?”
“No, just plan to be here tomorrow to bring us to the airport.”
“Yes, sir. Have a nice evening.”
Wyatt hit the end button, took off his glasses, and ran a hand over his face before putting them back on. So Kelsey had decided to alter his prescribed plans from the very start. The move both perturbed and intrigued him. They hadn’t made the formal transition into the D/s roles yet, but he’d tried to get her primed for the mindset the last time he saw her as well as with his very precise instructions on her shopping trip. He had no idea if her little rebellion tonight was an intentional statement of her independence or just a way for her to hold on to the last of her freedom before she surrendered to him.
He turned toward the triad of windows to his right and stared out over the expanse of his pool and backyard, anticipation rolling through him. Tonight was going to be a test of sorts. For both of them. If it went well, they’d leave for the trip tomorrow with a new confidence. If it didn’t, he’d have to revert to the original plan and pay her to accompany him, no training or touching involved. Thunder rumbled through the quiet kitchen, pulling him back to the view. It’d been raining off and on all day, a cold front coming through. Now the clouds hung low overhead, blocking out the last rays of the afternoon sun, and the wind had begun to rattle the early fall leaves off the trees.
Maybe they’d be better off not going out tonight. Things looked like they were about to get pretty nasty outside. His gaze flicked to the clock on the oven. He grabbed his phone and scrolled through his numbers, looking for the one he’d recently added.
Kelsey answered on the second ring, road noise and pattering rain in the background. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” he asked, skipping past niceties.
“Uh . . . in the middle of a blinding storm at the moment. But if I followed directions correctly, I’m pretty close to your place.”
He frowned, a clap of thunder outside his window signaling the start of the onslaught. “You should have let Henry drive you. I don’t want you out in this.”
“I’m fine. There’s just a lot of water on this road all of a sudden, so I’m taking it slow. I can handle a little storm.”
“Kelsey, if there’s water on the road, you need to turn around. The neighborhoods around here flashflood easily with the lake nearby. There’s no way to tell how deep it is.”
“I think it’s—” There was a strange whining sound in the background. Then a string of curses.
“What’s wrong?”
“Can I take back what I said? I think my car just stalled out.”
“Christ.” He shoved his chair back from the table, almost toppling it in his rush. “Tell me where you’re at. I’m coming to get you.”
“Um, wait, shit, I’m not sure. I can barely see anything,” she said, the pattering in the background now blending with the sheets of rain banging against his kitchen windows. “I think the next cross street ahead is supposed to be Briarpatch.”
Hell, right by the golf course. That spot was notorious for flooding. “What kind of car do you drive?”
“It’s a ninety-nine white Honda Civic.”