All Aboard (Anchored 3)

I take a deep breath.

Think brave, Macie. Think brave.

“Maybe we could get dinner sometime,” I say. “If you like.”

“I would love that,” he says. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card. He presses it into my hand as he kisses me again. “I hope you’ll call me, Miss Macie.”

“Yes,” I say. “I think I will.”

Chapter 8

Anthony

Macie calls me the next day and we talk for an hour. We’re both busy with work all week, but we make plans to meet on Thursday night for dinner. In the meantime, we text and talk on the phone all week. Somehow, we’re unable to get enough of each other.

I find out she grew up in the Midwest and moved to Westbrook to open her catering company. She comes from a big family with a conservative background, and that’s part of the reason she never really explored the kinky side of herself before. She always thought it was wrong and somehow bad.

When I give her a list of books to read, she surprises me by admitting she already bought most of them on her Kindle.

“I’ve been doing a lot of reading since Saturday,” she admits. “And it’s been really, really fun.” A vision of Macie touching herself to a dirty book flashes through my head, but I push it aside.

Focus.

I need to focus on work.

I need to get through the week and on Thursday, when we meet for dinner, I can finally allow myself to relax. Somehow, Macie seems to calm me. She brings me a strange sense of peace. Whether we’re talking or texting, I love the way she helps me relax. Even though my job is very intense and there is a lot of pressure and anxiety that accompanies it, she makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.

She makes me feel like I’m going to be all right.

The week seems to move by slowly. As I deal with my clients and cases, I feel the weight of the world crushing my shoulders. Even Zack can tell that I’m becoming more and more unhappy. He doesn’t realize that if I didn’t have Macie to talk to this week, I’d probably be walking out of the office and never coming back.

On Thursday morning, he steps into my office and closes the door behind him. Then he crosses his arms over his chest and just stares at me.

“Don’t give me your Dom face. That doesn’t work on me.”

“This face works on everyone.”

“Not me. I taught you that face, remember?”

“I remember,” Zack concedes. “I also remember when you used to love your job. You used to love working on divorce cases, so what happened?”

“Life happened,” I admit with a sigh, pushing my chair back from my desk. I stand and go to the window. “You’re a real estate lawyer, Zack. A high stress day for you is helping someone sort out the taxes on their new property. It’s different for me.”

“Talk to me about it. Tell me why. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I know you’re Domming me right now.”

“Humor me.”

“All right,” I turn around and face him, mirroring his crossed arms. “I’m tired of dealing with the worst part of people’s lives. Everyone I face is going through the hardest experience of their existence. Wives are coming in after they find out their husband has had a secret mistress for the last five years. Husbands are coming in after discovering their wives have been stashing money away in secret accounts as they prepare to walk away from their relationship. I’m tired, Zack. I’m tired of everything being negative.”

I sigh and run my hands through my hair. It’s always been bad, but somehow, it never seemed this b

ad until lately.

I’m getting old, and soft, and I’m getting tired.

“The worst part of my job is that even when my clients win, they also lose. Everyone loses in divorce. Yeah, I might get them alimony or a good custody arrangement, but they still lose. They lose the life they have now. Their kids lose a parent. Someone always gets the short end of the stick, and it’s usually the children. I’m tired of being a part of it.”