“I hope so.”
She got up, “Hope ain’t worth much in here. You know that. Hard not to hope, though, seein’ what you got. Is it true that you’re in the same family as Monalisa?”
“Yes.”
“She is the shit.” She smiled fondly, “Tell her hi from me and Lulu.”
“She is. I’ll tell her.”
“She never had to see her plaque.” She got to her feet and wandered down to another part of the pond and looked in, “And she never had to come back after her Master died. We’re all happy for her. Can’t sit here too long. We’ll draw attention. If we don’t get to talk again, good luck out there.”
“We’ll talk again,” I promised. And that was all I could say but I tried to tell her more with my eyes. She smiled a resigned, sad smile.
I got up and casually wandered the other rooms and then left the slave quarters, smiling at every face that glanced my way.
I felt for these girls and the couple of men here. I really did. And I prayed that God would help my Master get them freedom.
I thanked God that Truly gave me that warning. Even if Dare didn’t plan to leave me behind or punish me at how I reacted to seeing my old name on a plaque; it might’ve complicated matters.
***
I typed a very quick note on Dare’s phone, which was in our room, telling him there would be a room named after me and to hide reactions from them, that they’d be measuring my reaction to see if I was being obedient.
When he came back, after cocktail hour, to fetch me for dinner, he got a shower and then used his phone to call his office to check in. And then I knew by his face that he’d read the message. We’d discussed on the beach that I’d leave a note there to tell him if there was something valuable in my secret discussion with Truly.
He kissed me, not saying anything about it, and then we got changed and headed to one of the larger private dining rooms, where a meal for all present partners was held.
***
Mr. Chen gave a speech at the start of the dinner, where about twenty people were present, slaves included, stating that all but two partners were there, this year, which was a record year for attendance. He talked about how the event was mostly to celebrate together, and to talk to partners about what the leadership team could do make the club the best it could be.
He said that through discussions in an earlier meeting, they would be ramping up membership in the coming year, adding another hundred members, which would mean that they would want to recruit more Kruna assets. My stomach churned.
Many other wives and owned slaves were there with their masters. I recognized a few but not all.
A few on-site Kruna slaves were at the feet of partners. A few sat in chairs with double-strand collars. I saw a few women on their knees in triple-strand collars, which meant they were owned and still on the floor.
I was lucky. I was extremely lucky. I counted my blessings at that table, my handsome husband beside me. We were dressed up. I had my own plate of food and didn’t have to rely on him to remember to hand-feed me throughout the meal. I was going to be fine. He was going to make sure of it.
Cleo, as a trainer, would never sit here. She ate in a staff room for staff members who were previously slaves. She slept in a dorm room slightly better than the slave quarters but she didn’t sleep in a VIP room, in a bed next to a man who loved her, who held her tenderly, who did his best to give her what she needed and who, when he screwe
d up, felt bad, admitted his mistakes, and tried to fix things. She didn’t get to leave to go home after the partner summit, back to a regular place with regular people. And shopping malls. And Starbucks. And feeding ducks. To people who loved her.
It was definitely better to be me.
Dare
This day, this week. I wanted it fucking over. I’d gotten information that day during the meetings where Angel wasn’t with me with her wire, that I’d texted off to the number Zack had given me for the task force. Names, arrival times, possible departure dates, other little tidbits of info from the meetings about the financials. Anything that sounded like it might be valuable. The annual residuals partners were getting from this place? Insane amounts of money. I could not believe the money that was being deposited in a Cayman Islands account for Tommy and me. When this shit was over, if we managed to get things clear, that money would go to help the victims of this fucking place.
I’d gotten through the rest of the day partly because of the fact that she’d seemed okay at the beach. Okay might be an overstatement, but she’d looked herself, looked so much better than when I’d left her in bed after that punishment room.
I’d come to our room and found it empty and had nearly lost my shit, no matter who saw it. All sorts of scenarios ran through my head about whether they found the wires, whether Cleo was enacting revenge, whether they knew we weren’t on side and had taken her away from me.
I’d gone to the dining rooms, the main entrance, and had just stepped outside when I’d seen her. I’d managed to find her before anyone found out I was frantically looking, but people had been on that patio, seeing me storm out toward her, so I’d had to make it look somewhat like I’d been reprimanding her for something.
She needed our beach. It was good that she’d sought that out to find her center. It was a good sign that just a few hours after that horrific meltdown that she was looking like my girl. Her eyes were expressive, her emotions clear, but despite the sadness, I could see she was my girl.
I didn’t like that I couldn’t be at her back when she’d gone into the slave quarters, but she needed to do it alone. I didn’t know if it was like stepping into a viper’s den, a place where people who might be jealous of her would be.