Open Doors (Suncoast Society #27)(6)

The men shared another glance. “Derrick,” Kel said, “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but your slave has a very distinct Toppy side, and I plan on encouraging it, in this case.”

Derrick snorted. “I work with her every day. Tell me something I don’t already know.”





Chapter Three


Mike and Julie Foster arrived a few minutes later. Derrick was pleased to see their enthusiasm as they looked around the space and listened to Marcia’s ideas.

“She’s right,” Julie said as she stroked her baby bump. “We’ll definitely need food tables.”

“I think you should put together a wish list of stuff,” Mike said. “Things where you’re either looking for a donation of the item from people, or a good price on it to buy it. That way, if people run across them, they’ll know to let you know.”

“Even better,” Julie said. “I’ll help you with that, if you’d like. I have the huge list of names and e-mails from the munch group for the parties. Oh, my brother is a cabinet maker. They do demolition all the time. I bet he can snag us some free cabinets to use for storage. We could just paint them black…”

The women walked over to the corner where the mop sink was located and started waving their arms as they mapped out a potential layout for the kitchen area.

Mike snickered. “You realize this is going to be a full-time job at the start, right?” he quietly asked Derrick.

“I know. I told her it wouldn’t be one. But she knows it will be.”

“Then why did you tell her it wouldn’t?” Kel asked.

“Because I honestly didn’t think she’d throw herself into it like she is. I figured we’d come over here, she’d stick her head inside the door, look at it, go, ‘Uh-huh,’ and then I’d be on my own. Then all I’d have to do would be to disguise the expenses until I paid myself back. I didn’t anticipate her taking over. I was going to consider myself lucky if she didn’t threaten to divorce me over agreeing to do this. I told her when I broke the news to her that it’d be ‘us,’ but I wasn’t really going to force her to help.”

“Consider yourself lucky, then,” Kel said.

“Believe me, I do.”





At dinner, the women were too busy making their plans to even pay attention to what the men were saying. The three men sat there, watching and listening in amusement, as Marcia took notes on her phone and Julie helped her brainstorm.

Eventually, after their food arrived, the women looked at the three men.

“What?” Marcia asked.

Derrick laughed. “Nothing, sweetheart. I’m glad to see you’re throwing yourself into this.”

“You say that now.” She picked up her fork and pointed it at him. “If I’m sucked into doing this anyway, we’re going to do it my way—the right way.” She took a bite of her salad.

“Yes, dear.” Derrick blew her a kiss.

“Oooh, fail, dude,” Kel teased. “You’re Mastering wrong.”

“Fuck you,” Derrick lightly said. “Happy wife, happy life.”

“Happy slave keeps him out of his grave,” Mike chimed in.

“We’re going to have to paint the place,” Marcia added. “Those white walls won’t cut it.”

“At least we won’t need to primer them,” Julie said. “That’ll save some money.”

“What color were you thinking?” Derrick asked.

“Colors, plural,” Marcia said. “We’re going to paint them a plain dark charcoal-grey all the way to the ceiling, and then make a faux rock pattern on the lower half of the wall to let it fade out going up.” She leveled her gaze at Derrick. “Someone better get me that scissor lift, pronto.”

“That sounds like some work,” Kel said.

“Then I guess having you help us, Mr. Landlord, will make it go faster, won’t it?” She flashed him a wide, beaming smile.

Derrick laughed. “Welcome to my world, buddy.”

Their dinner actually lasted several hours as they sat there talking until the restaurant was ready to close. After paying their checks—leaving a generous tip for their waitress in exchange for them taking up the table all evening—they walked out to the parking lot, where they talked some more.

“You know,” Julie said, “I think this is the start of something big.”

“Why’s that?” Derrick asked.

“I just do. I’ve got a really good feeling about it. We don’t have something like this here. We need something like this here. Look how the monthly munch is growing. How many times we’ve had to find new locations because we outgrew restaurants. Think about if there was some kinky Internet site like Facebook, instead of just the .alt newsgroups and AOL chatrooms, where we could actually organize more people from the area. For every one person who comes to one of the munches or coffee times, there are probably a bunch of kinksters who don’t even realize they’re not alone here in Sarasota.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not starting a website,” Marcia said, casting another pointed stare at Derrick. “We’ve got more than enough on our plate as it is. Someone else can do that crap, and no, we’re not starting a website for the club right now, either.”