He snorted. “It sure as hell is. If my work wasn’t so demanding, I’d show you around.”
“You’re taking time off for us to go shopping.”
“True, but I worked all night, and I deserve a few hours to do something else.”
“You didn’t work all night.”
He raised his brows. “Maybe you do need a spanking.”
My cock grew half-hard at the thought of it. I absolutely did not need to be fantasizing about all the things he might want to do to me. This was a job, not a chance for me to explore the dark fantasies I’d had for years, things I probably wouldn’t even like in real life and yet… Maybe…
Remington let me out through the gate and took my hand as we started down the street. I knew he was staking his claim on me, but I didn’t mind.
“Why do you work so hard? You seem to have plenty of money. Shouldn’t you take time to enjoy it?”
“My work isn’t something with scheduled hours. It’s more… It’s hard to take time off.
I had a feeling he was going to say something else, and I wanted to know what it was, but I also knew it was safer for me to stay in the dark about what he did. I was absolutely sure it wasn’t legal. My job was illegal too, so it wasn’t like I could point fingers. Although I didn’t harm anyone, and I had the feeling that he did or at least he had the potential to. “Surely you could take a day off occasionally.”
“You want to explore the city that badly?”
“No, I… I just meant…”
“Come on.” He squeezed my hand as we turned onto Bourbon. I couldn’t help but gawk at the bars and strip clubs that were already hopping, despite it being midafternoon.
A woman stepped out the side door of one such establishment, wearing nothing but a small pair of underwear and holding a cigarette in her hand. She winked at me. Remington tugged on my hand to keep me moving.
“She was just… Out there, and it’s…”
“For someone in your profession, you are charmingly innocent.”
“Like I said, I’ve only been doing this a few months, and it wasn’t my choice. I don’t mean anyone forced me or anything, but I didn’t know how else to get the money I need.”
Remington nodded. “People often end up in strange places when they’re desperate.”
I liked that he didn’t treat me with scorn or pity or try to either solve my problems or dismiss them. He just took things in stride. I hadn’t had anyone react that way.
We took another turn, then he stopped before a very nondescript entrance. There was a simple sign on the door that read Maximilian’s Tailoring.
I looked in the window and saw some expensive-looking suits on mannequins, but I likely wouldn’t have noticed them if Remington hadn’t stopped in front of the shop.
When we stepped inside, I looked around in astonishment. The store was pristine. There were a few garments well-spaced on racks in the front and an old wooden counter toward the back. I could see into a second room where there was a sofa and a pedestal where I supposed men stood to have their measurements taken and their hems checked. It all seemed very Victorian.
The man who stood behind the counter rushed around to us as soon as he saw Remington.
“Mr. Theriot, we’re so happy to have you back with us. We’ve prepared a room for you and your guest.” I was completely out of place in the establishment, but not once did the young man betray any concern about that. He spoke to me as if I were dressed like Remington, in clothes that would belong in the store.
The entire experience was surreal. I’d seen shops like this in movies, but I wasn’t sure they really existed.
“Come have a seat,” the young man said. “I’m Claude, and I’m happy to assist you with anything you need. Would you like a beverage? We have champagne, coffee, sparkling water.”
At the stores I shopped at, I was lucky to find an employee who could answer a simple question like what the price of something was. I never imagined being offered champagne while I shopped.
Remington turned to me. “Henri, what would you like?”
“If we don’t have it here, we will bring you whatever you need. Mr. Theriot is an excellent customer, and we appreciate his business.”
“Coffee would be great. Thank you.”
“He’d like three creams and two sugars,” Remington said. I stared at him in awe.
“How did you—”
“I pay attention.”
I looked at him, and our eyes met. There was something there, something that made my heart beat much too fast, something I had to be imagining.
It wasn’t about me. He was watchful, observant, cautious. I’d noticed it from the moment I saw him in the car. He was always checking his surroundings, probably due to whatever the nature of his business was.