Are we still dating?
Are we still having sex?
I have no fucking clue.
Somehow, I doubt she’s going to give me any money. She’ll barely give me her love at this point, even though she’s overflowing with that as well. All the more reason for me to get to the bottom of this bullshit and find out what the fuck she wants!
I’m never dating a Domme again. Kathryn Alison, you’re it.
Chapter 20
KATHRYN
The doorman says a hot young blonde is traipsing around the lobby of my building, practically demanding that she be sent up. You see, at the moment I’m not allowing anyone up without buzzing first. And buzzing means going through the doorman.
Even Eva. Even my own father. Even Anita. I don’t want any surprises. I need to know that my home is an actual haven and that I don’t have to worry about the likes of Ian Mathers coming up to my door to “talk” when I’m not ready. Right now it’s all I can take working with him, smiling at him, chatting with him on the phone and making all sorts of eyes at him from across the room.
So Stephanie May is finding it awfully difficult to get up into my apartment where she can harass and demand money out of me.
“I don’t want to talk to her,” I tell the doorman over the phone. “Please tell Miss May that I know what she’s here for and it will be taken care of in due course.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will send her on her way. She may leave a message, however.”
“That’s fine.” I’m under no obligation to actually listen to her message. Not like she has anything good to say, anyway.
I’m left in peace for a few more minutes. I make some tea, pet the cat, and look at my calendar, wondering what I’m going to be doing two weeks from now, when my contract with the Mathers ends until it’s time to get back to work on that museum.
One nice thing about being filthy rich is that I don’t have to work. I don’t worry about my next paycheck. I don’t have to apply to jobs. It’s nice not having to worry about that like some of my acquaintances do. I’m good with my money. So even if I don’t work for a few months and fuck off to Brazil, Singapore, wherever, it doesn’t matter. Everything is taken care of.
Except I can’t live like that. I have to be busy… productively busy. I’m not artistic, so I don’t devote my life to painting, writing, etc. I don’t have kids so I’m not preoccupied with raising them right and making sure they’re educated. No, I’m the type who actually wants to work so she feels like she’s doing something with a greater purpose.
I just have no idea what that’s going to be.
I’m sure I could find some pet project to tie me over until it’s back to work on The Grand museum. A school. Another library. Maybe a homeless shelter. Somebody out there needs me to help them set up grants.
Besides, I need to stay busy. The busier I am, the less I think of Ian.
My phone rings. It’s the doorman.
“Ms. Alison, there is a woman here to see you.”
Fucking fuck fuck. “I told you, I have no need to see Miss May. Take a message and send her on her way.”
“It’s not Miss May. It’s a Ms. Grant-Mathers.”
Well, fuck me.
“Send her up.”
Within five minutes Caroline is at my door, barreling me over as she sashays into my living room and coos at Sinéad playing with a piece of string on the floor. “What a precious little nugget,” she says. “Can’t wait to call this one my grandbaby too.”
“Er…”
Caroline looks at me with the fakest smile in the universe. “I saw you and Ian dancing at the ball. Very nice. Although I hardly doubt you two have sorted out your… differences.”
That’s why the smile is fake. She’s not here to hug me and welcome me back into the family. She’s here to play the role my mother refuses to fill.
Great.
Should’ve left her down in the lobby.
“Call it a moment of weakness,” I say, bringing some tea to her. “A very big moment of weakness. Your son is irresistible.”
“Trust me, I know. I raised the little bastard. He was charming his nanny and me into letting him get away with shit for years.” Caroline sips her tea before putting it down on the coffee table and sitting in one of the chairs. Sinéad saunters over and rubs against a stiletto heel.
“Also,” I sit on my couch, near her, “you missed our favorite Hollywood up and comer. She was here to harass me for hush money.”
“Was she? Well, she should consider herself lucky that she missed me then, because I would rip her head off and deflate those fake tits my ex-husband is probably going to buy for her. He offered to buy them for me more than once…”
“I thought you said you were going to take care of that,” I say, carefully.
“Oh, I am, dear. I need a few more days, though. Try to hold her off until then. If you feel it absolutely necessary, go ahead and give her some money.” That diabolical smile reminds me of Ian’s. “She’s going to need all the funds she can get soon.”
I don’t know what that means. I don’t want to know what that means. I hope it involves a private investigator.
“No, I came by to warn you, sweetie.” What is with these people and their pet names? My family would die. My father has a name for me, and that’s it. “My sack of shit ex was by my place the other day to get some more money out of me. Apparently, one of the investors for The Grand fell through, and Dominic is searching for money.”
“Shouldn’t Ian have it?”
“Didn’t he tell you? He already sank a fortune into it. More than Dominic did. Mess…”
“And they’re coming to me because nobody else will give them the money?”
“That’s about the size of it. You’re one of their last resorts.”
“Thanks for the warning, I guess, but why are you telling me this?” There’s no reason for Caroline to be at my door, gabbing about her family’s financial matters. We’re not that close, no matter how much she likes to think so. Normally, she would let me find out the hard way… like when Ian is sent to me on his father’s business, looking to lick some money out of my wallet.
Caroline raises her eyebrows as she sips more tea. “Why, because you can use it as leverage, dear.”
We’re silent, my mind turning with those possibilities. “You’re not suggesting…”
“I don’t suggest anything, Kathryn, other than you realize your true worth and know what you want from my son. Sometimes he’s a bit… thick. He doesn’t understand what we’re trying to tell him. He needs to be informed through other methods. Like through money. Ian understands money and business.”
Before I can open my mouth, Caroline drops her final bomb.
“Approach your relationship like a business transaction. Make him pay for what you both want.”
Chapter 21
IAN
“What are you talking about?” I ask the doorman in Katie’s apartment building. “I’ve never had to check in before.”
“Sorry, Mr. Mathers.” The man, a short gentleman with dyed black hair and wiry glasses, tips his hat to me and writes something down with a gloved hand. “Ms. Alison has requested that all guests be checked in and admitted.”
“She’s expecting me.”
“Even so, I must ring her up first.” He picks up a silver phone and holds a finger up to me. “One moment please.”