“I bet. Men with a lot of privilege like him usually do.”

“He’s not that bad in that sense.” I think of how patient Ian is with me in the world of sex and romance. I’ve freaked out on him quite a few times by now, and while I can see him get exasperated with me, he’s never made me feel ashamed or somehow less than as a potential sub. It can’t be easy – or fun – for him to deal with. Yet the other night, when I finally got over my fear of him coming inside me… bare? Well, I got over the fear, but not the apprehension. Either way, he helped me with that. Going forward, I like to think it gets easier until I’m…

What? Begging for it? Mercy upon me.

“He’s a good lover,” I murmur.

Eva doesn’t speak for a minute. She looks between the empty popcorn bowl and me, her eyes clouded over, deep in thought.

“You guys a thing?”

I don’t answer, because I don’t know the answer. Aside from, “It wouldn’t work as a serious relationship. We’re fooling around. You know how it is. We’re both dominant.”

Eva looks like she wants to say something, but doesn’t. Whatever it is, it would probably piss me off.

I never get to find out because the doorbell rings.

“Who the hell?” The only person who comes up directly to my door is Eva, and she’s already here. I doubt it’s a delivery, as I’m not expecting anything.

Nevertheless, I get up, bracing myself for the surprise of my life – which I get.

“Kathryn!” Two perfumed hands clutch my face as Caroline Grant-Mathers gets all up in my personal space. “So good to see you, dear! It’s been a while.”

I stumble back in my doorway as she nearly barrels me over. Behind me, in the living room, Eva laughs in utter disbelief. I keep waiting for her to say, “We were talking about your son’s cock!” but thank the Lord it never comes.

It takes a few seconds, but I recover my bearings and my hospitality. Caroline is ushered into my living area, where I offer to take her fur coat, but she declines, citing that she won’t be staying for long.

“Why, if it isn’t Evangeline,” she says sweetly, staring down my best friend. They exchange fake smiles. “Haven’t seen you around much lately. How’s school?”

While they submerge themselves in idle chatter, I get Caroline a small cup of coffee to tie her over. Is it strange that I know she likes a hefty amount of cream and no sugar? I don’t know where I remember this from. Probably a function long ago. Either way, I feel like the prodigious daughter-in-law as I serve her coffee in my own home.

Until now, I never really saw Caroline as “Ian’s mother.” She’s always had such a tight identity of her own – how can she not, given her machinations in the Mathers family? – that there was no need to think of her in relation to her husband and son. Most women in our world have those kinds of identities. They’re known for being so-and-so’s wife, mother, daughter. The best they can hope for is striking out on their own a bit, but many don’t bother, whether out of choice or disillusionment.

I’ve always looked up to Caroline because she knows what she wants and is completely unapologetic about getting it. We laugh about her marriage and divorce, but think about it – how well played! Dominic Mathers wrote in a prenup that she wouldn’t get half his fortune in a divorce unless they were married for twenty years. In exchange for getting married over Ian’s conception, he asked her to invest more than her body. He wanted her time. Twenty years of being the hot wife. A hot, smart wife who did more than be arm candy at functions. Caroline didn’t mind being with the man, but she wanted to see her worth upfront. Her own personal worth… and wealth.

Growing up with women like that in my family’s social circle helped shape who I am. Probably. I saw women like Caroline and realized that I could make my own way without my father’s help. It’s tougher being a woman, but at least I know it’s possible.

That doesn’t mean I know why she’s here. Or that I’m suddenly not thinking of her son, especially since they share the same arch of the eyes and high cheekbones.

She’s a glamorous woman who doesn’t look a day over thirty, even though she’s much older. What? Fifty? I think so. Today she’s wearing a body-hugging long-sleeved dress designed to look like intricate oil pools. From one angle she’s covered in blues and purples, and from another she’s nothing but greens and reds. The high-neck of her black fur coat makes her look more sophisticated. Especially when I realize it’s vintage fur. The Mathers, especially Caroline and Ian, are infamous for being environmentally and ecologically conscious to a fault. No way would Caroline purchase any real fur that wasn’t vintage.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Caroline?” I ask, sitting by Eva on my couch. The woman takes a chair adjacent to us. The coffee is untouched in her hands. “You don’t stop by here often.” Or ever.

She glances at Eva. “I was actually hoping we could speak in private, dear.”

Eva takes the hint without offense. “I need to use the ladies’ room anyway.” She gets up, taking the empty popcorn bowl and wineglasses to my kitchen before diverting to the guest bathroom. Caroline eyes her before turning back to me.

“How’s the project coming along, dear?”

“Dear” is basically a copula for Caroline, and I usually ignore it, but today it seems slathered in some strange feeling. I don’t know what to make of it.

“It’s coming along fine. I can’t apologize enough for holding things up in the beginning part of this plan.”

“Oh, don’t fret over it. The Andrews needed a reason to broach the council subject, and you were a scapegoat handed to them on a silver platter.” Gee, that doesn’t make me feel any better. “I’m more concerned about how you’re dealing with my darling little family.” The condescension dripping from her fangs would be hilarious if she weren’t talking about the man I’m currently fucking.

“You mean Ian?”

“Ian, Dominic… even that cute gal Valerie working for my son. They’re all kind of the same in some areas.”

“You’re not?”

“Hell no! I’m a girl who made the best out of a… terrible and unfortunate situation.” Her grin says otherwise. I’ve often wondered – and I’m not the only one – if Caroline got pregnant out of wedlock on purpose. “However, I know firsthand how difficult those boys can be. I may have given birth and raised one, but he’s still his father’s son, bless him.”

“I haven’t had any problems to speak of.”

My lips are tight, which means Caroline doesn’t believe me. I’ve never been shy in recent years about what an ass Ian can be. She often agrees with me, laughing into champagne, coffee, tea, or whatever she has on hand at the time. Today she’s not even touching the coffee I gave her.

“You know…” she begins, and I’m not sure I like the tone in her voice. “I made quite the flub the other day talking to my boy. All this time I thought that you two once dated. He set me right, don’t you worry… but I’ve been wondering if I really misremembered that or not.”

I attempt to keep my demeanor pleasant, but it’s faltering. “Ian and I never dated. We’ve known each other for quite a while, however.”

“Yes, yes, he told me that you two went to that academy together. Aren’t you younger?”

“Only two years. He was a senior when I was a sophomore.”

“Oh! That explains it. Old enough to go to school together, but different social grades.”

“I suppose.”

“Hm.” Caroline looks up toward my ceiling and taps a pink nail against her rosy red lips. She looks like the classic kind of woman you expect to run around causing trouble, and it’s no different today. “You should date him!”

“What?”

Caroline uncrosses her slender legs and wags a happy finger in my face. “You’re single, he’s single… a playboy, but he’s getting to be thirty and that will have to slow down soon… ah, you would be so good for him!”