CHAPTER SEVEN
Charlotte
I am still thinking about that day in the office, two weeks ago later, and it has fueled a number of crazy nights of touching myself. He has made it a point to tell me how impressed he is with my work, but I pretend every night his compliments aren’t about the way I navigate the legal issues of his projects, but instead all about how much he enjoyed sleeping with me.
It’s about two o’clock on a Thursday and I want to let him know another file is resolved. First, I get a text from Tami at the hotel. She texts me pretty regularly now, usually something teasing me about Charlie. This time is not different. The text asks if I remembered to set up a mattress in my office. I blush at the thought, but I don’t regret telling her all about sex with him. In fact, we talked for hours about it when I got home. Since telling her about the kiss after dancing, we talk all the time. She’s a regular fixture in my suite and I find myself particularly amazed that I have two new friends. I not only have two new friends, but I feel close to them and can be honest with them.
I send her back a text to tell her to get her mind out of the gutter and she sends back a smiley face. I feel really good and a glance at the clock tells me I’ve let fifteen minutes go by just thinking about him. I flip through the file to make sure I have all the relevant information for him, and then get up to talk to him about it. When I get to his office, I hear him on the phone.
He says, “Well, we’re so effective, because of Charlotte. She’s brilliant. You wouldn’t believe how easily she sees through all the complexity and gets things done.” I can’t believe how overwhelming it feels to know he finds me brilliant. Have I really gone my whole life without understanding what it means for someone to value my contributions?
He sees me outside his office and waves me in. “Okay. You got it,” he says and hangs up the phone.
I stare at him and then, without really intending to say it, I blurt out, “I really liked it, when you kissed me.”
He stares at me as though he doesn’t understand and although I didn’t mean to start the conversation at all, I feel as if I have to remind him. “I mean, when you came back to town and I was dancing and—”
“Oh no,” he says. “I know exactly when it happened. I’ve been thinking about it every single—” He suddenly gets nervous and says, “I really liked it, too.” He looks a bit bashful as he says. “I liked the second time we kissed, too.”
It feels so strange dancing around a different topic; the one on my mind every night when I touch myself. I am a lawyer for Heaven’s sake, and I have certainly proven I’m a good lawyer. I ought to be able to talk about the subject easily. Of course, I don’t want just to point out that I’ve been fantasizing about him and masturbating to thoughts of him from the day I met him.
“Are… Did you know that Nancy calls her husband Daddy?” I ask. At first, I don’t know why I’m asking that question, but I realize a second later. I want to know if he’s into what Jessica and Randy are into. I want to know whether, if we had a relationship, he would expect me to call him that.
Actually, I suppose I want to know if he would let me call him Daddy.
He seems uncertain about responding, but then he says, “Yes.”
That’s it. Just yes.
“I…” I’m afraid to say the next thing. Thankfully, he speaks first.
“My wife died,” he says.
“Oh my God,” I say. “I’m so sorry.”
“No,” he says. “That’s not why I said that. I just… Well, my wife called me Daddy, too.” I don’t intend to let out a sigh that’s close to a moan, but I do. His eyes widen a bit and he says, “Are you a Little?”
“No,” I say. “At least, not yet.”
I don’t know how to talk about this, but something in his eyes and the way he looks at me makes me let go of my inhibitions.
“I want to be,” I say. “The way Nancy talks about it, about being able just to let go of all the stress for a while, and to know that Randy will take care of her and protect her. I don’t think I want to wear a diaper like she sometimes does.” I study his face, afraid that he won’t be interested in me, but his expression doesn’t change. “But I… I guess I want to be a Little and I want to have a Daddy.”
He doesn’t respond for a moment and then he says, “When two people have a relationship like that and it works, it can be really profound.”
“Will you…” Here goes. “Will you be my Daddy and teach me how to be a Little?”
In his eyes I see a glimmer of joy, but then sadness comes over them. He hides it well, but it’s there. “Charlotte,” he says. “When someone has a D/s relationship, it can be intense.”
“What’s that?”
“Sorry. Domination and submission. A Daddy is a dominant and a Little is a submissive. Even if the Daddy and Little part isn’t there, a dominant and a submissive become very intense and very close. It makes them both very vulnerable and it isn’t something you can do just as friends or… well, casually. Even if you start that way, it’s likely you’ll end up falling in love.”
“But I’m already in love with you,” I say.
Then, absolute horror and embarrassment at what I’ve just said hit me and I leap up from the chair and run from his office. “I’m sorry!” I cry over my shoulder. I rush to my office and grab my purse. Nancy tries to ask me a question, as I run past her, but I ignore her and rush to my car.
What kind of a woman asks a question like that, right after a man explains he’s a widower? I can’t believe how presumptuous and horrible I’ve been, and I feel like a completely horrible person. It’s a miracle I don’t get a ticket on my way back to the hotel. As I rush through the lobby, I feel like a bitch for ignoring Tami at the front desk. I rush up to my suite and make it inside before the tears fall. I collapse onto the floor in front of the door, ashamed and terribly frightened of the future.
A knock sounds at the door and I hear Charlie’s voice. “Open up, Charlotte,” he says. “Please open up.”
I stop crying, but I can’t respond. He asks again and I still can’t respond. How in the world can I face him? I’ve humiliated myself and I’ve been selfish. I must be the stupidest, silliest girl on Earth. Why would a man like him want me, especially after such a terribly insensitive display?
Yet, he continues to knock.