Traffic Girl - Jess Ch. 16

Author's Note: We are moving into a new phase here, and it's leading to the conclusion of Book Two. Thank you so much for reading and your feedback. There's no sex here. But there is a strong theme of dominance, and it advances the trajectory of the plot substantially. Thanks for being patient.

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It was Friday, February 28. I had slept like shit. The blackout curtains in my room at the Four Seasons didn't betray whether it was night or day. I looked at my watch. It was 4:32 a.m. I picked up my phone and opened my bank app. I stared as it loaded, then the account screen came into view, and I blinked.

$20,248,964.19.

I blinked again.

My eyes weren't playing tricks on me. The final bonus payment had hit. Adrenaline seized me. I sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. The empty half of the bed next to me brought the melancholy back again. There wasn't anyone to celebrate this with right now. At least, not yet.

This was it. My last day of work. I hadn't ever believed retirement by age forty would be a reality. But here it was. I grinned. Keep your eyes on the big issues, I told myself. The rest will sort itself out. Don't let the emotions get to you. There are larger things at stake, and a little more discipline would put me where I wanted to be. I may not have realized it in the past, but I was a hair's breadth away from a life I had always wanted.

I got up and opened the curtains. Houston was still asleep. The downtown buildings lit the night sky. I stepped out of my boxer-briefs and walked to the bathroom, turning the shower all the way on hot. As steam filled the room and covered the mirror, I rubbed my thighs. In the three days since I had walked out on Jess, when I wasn't wrapping up loose ends at work, I went to the gym for long, intense exercise sessions.

The hot shower felt good, and I woke up, despite my physical and emotional fatigue. I let the water beat down on me and focused on meditative breathing. It didn't seem real. But it was. The money didn't lie. For the past year, my investment strategy with the principal I already had received was conservative yet had kicked off $5 million in returns. That was enough for me to live the high life for two years, if not more.

Fuck it, I told myself. No matter what happened, I had the best years of my life ahead of me. There was no doubt an endless trail of adventure in the years to come. The only question was whether it would include Kat, Jess, or both. Or neither.

I dried off, dressed, and picked up my phone.

"Final bonus hit," I wrote in a text to Kat. "Today is my last day!"

I contemplated my next move when I was startled by my phone buzzing on the desk.

"Or the first day of forever," Kat had replied immediately.

My heart skipped a beat. "Well, I didn't expect you to respond, but if this is how forever is going to start, I would be very happy indeed," I wrote.

"I couldn't sleep because I knew today was the day," she said. "And I knew you'd be up to check as soon as it hit your bank account."

"When did you wake up?" I asked.

"3 a.m.," she wrote.

"How'd you know I'd be up to check?" I asked.

"I know you," she wrote. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I wrote back. "I miss you."

"Soon," she wrote. "Very soon. I've got to go."

That was the happiest thing that had occurred in three days. I really believed Kat understood me. In our case, absence truly had made the heart grow fonder. Maybe it was just the blow-up with Jess shaping my thoughts, but I had an unshakable faith in my love for Kat that was different from any other relationship I'd had before.

It was barely after 5 a.m., which was too early for room service. I didn't want to go to the office. Killing time would only reinforce the loneliness I felt. This should have been a moment of triumph, yet I felt empty and betrayed.

Perhaps it was that underlying loneliness that took over. I left the hotel and drove home. I don't know what I expected to find. I think I just needed something familiar surrounding me.

The apartment was a mess. The lights in the living, dining room, and kitchen were on. There were at least three mirrors with cocaine on them scattered about, along with empty Champagne and wine bottles. The door to the master bedroom was open. Jess slept peacefully on my side of the bed. Beside her was a shock of brown hair. It was Brittany.

I felt a sense of longing as I looked at Jess. There was hurt and disappointment, but there was also love. I couldn't help but love Jess. I thought about the whirlwind we had been through in the weeks leading up to the Johnny Burris incident. There were more drugs. She was burning the candle at both ends with her day job at Vivianno Plastic Surgery, which, as I had learned, was really substantively the same as her other job running the escort agency. She took on recruiting and appointments for her business. She managed everything. Maybe I should have seen how much the stress would take a toll on her.

But I'd been so busy myself that I didn't pay as close attention to her as I should have. But was this really my fault? It was her choice. Guys like Johnny Burris were her weakness. If she hadn't been overwhelmed with work, it would have happened anyway. It was the honesty aspect that grated at me the most. She could have sent a simple text message, and I probably would have told her to have fun. If she was hiding one secret from me, what others were buried elsewhere?

I watched her chest rise and fall while she slept. And in those moments, I knew that I loved her and that I couldn't let her go. But at what cost? Before I left, slipping out of the apartment quietly, I wrote Jess a note and put it underneath her phone. I'd know soon enough if she read it.

I went to the office for the last time. I had packed most of my things the day before. I put in a half day, shaking hands and accumulating well-wishes, before heading off to a wine-soaked lunch. The morning went by in a flash, and the next thing I knew, I was basking on the patio at a bistro near downtown. It was a perfect, 75-degree day. A handful of my closest coworkers sent me off in style with Champagne, oysters, and uproarious tales of days gone by.

The guys had to get back to the office, but with half a bottle of Champagne left and perfect patio weather, I wasn't about to give it up. I sat back and reflected that I had just closed the book on a seventeen-year chapter of my life. The wine was cold, and the bubbles were a nice celebration in their own right. The sun felt warm but not unbearable. I closed my eyes and let the day wash over me.

"Is this seat taken?" a voice said.

I opened my eyes. It was Jess, looking rested and stunning in rose-colored sunglasses -- a detail not lost on me -- and flowing, low cut spring dress.

"It would be for anyone but you," I said, letting the good feelings of the day and my light buzz direct my tone.

She sat and said with sincerity, "Thank you."

Before we could get started, the waiter came over and asked if Jess needed a glass.

"Why not," she said. "It's a beautiful day."

"So," I said. I didn't take off my sunglasses, but seeing her squirm in her chair, I could tell she knew my eyes were boring into her.

"So," she mimicked and let out a deep sigh.

The waiter returned with Jess's glass and filled it.

"Well, to you, John," she said and raised it. "Congratulations." Her voice was bittersweet.

"Thanks," I said.

"You snuck into the apartment last night," I said.

"Well, I mean, it is my apartment," I said with a chuckle.

"I got your note," she said.

I merely nodded and took a sip of wine.

"Did you mean it?" she asked.

I nodded again.

"You scared me," she said.

"You betrayed the one thing I asked you to do, Jess," I said sternly. "The only thing I asked you to do."

"I know," she said meekly. "Did you get my messages?"

I shook my head. "I blocked you," I said. "You know I won't argue with you over text."

Her body trembled slightly.

"Well, I'm here," she said.

"Is that all you've got to say?" I asked.

"Of course not," she said. "You're right. I like when a man controls me."

She paused. I stared over my sunglasses at her.

"I need to be dominated sometimes," she said. "But I haven't recognized it. I get off on being completely controlled, down to little details, even if it's not healthy for me. Even if it hurts people I care about the most."

"And what does that mean you need to do?" I asked.

"Give myself to you," she said.

"That sounds hollow," I said.

"I need to let you control me, even small decisions in my life, if I want to stay with you," she said. "With all the stress I have with work and everything else, if I don't, I can't make proper decisions for myself."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I'm a coke whore," she said.

"And?" I prompted her.

"If you don't control me, my life will fall apart," she said. "I'll end up in rehab and living with my parents. Again."

"Is that what you want?" I asked.

"No," she said. Her voice quivered. "I want help."

"Do you understand my terms?" I asked.

"I do, John," she said.

"Tell me your understanding," I ordered.

"I will submit to you," she said. "I have to earn your trust again. From scratch. I won't tell you no, regardless of what I'm ordered to do. I will obey the first time. You will know where I am and what I'm doing at all times, and I can only deviate from that with your specific permission."

"How does that make you feel?" I asked.

"Relieved," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I'm your coke whore, and the only thing I'm good at is serving you," she said.

"That's right, Jess," I said. "And what are the consequences?"

"If I don't comply one-hundred percent, I'm on my own," she said, her voice turning demure and regaining some confidence.

"Knowing those consequences, is this what you want to do?" I asked.

"I do," she said. A noticed a tear roll down her cheek. "More than anything else in the entire world. I want to give myself over to you. Without any limits. I am yours. I accept all your terms."

For the first time since Jess had sat down, I smiled. I took off my sunglasses, and I looked at her. What had occurred to me that morning, when I wrote the note, is that during my relationship with Kat, I frequently worried about the balance of power between us. I tried to control her or gain an upper hand over her, but it was a difficult exercise because Kat was a control freak herself. Jess was not. Jess was a free spirit and a hedonist. She really had no other desire than to float from one good time to the next. Yet I afforded her the autonomy I had pushed hard to take from Kat. My priorities had been wrong when it came to the power in my relationships. I needed to control Jess. Kat could handle herself, by all evidence. We had reached some brilliant highs when I didn't have the right orientation among the three of us. I couldn't resist finding out what would happen with this recalibration.

"Welcome back," I said.

Before she could respond, we were startled by the simultaneous buzzing of our phones. I motioned to Jess that it was all right to pick it up and read the message, while I did the same. She moved her lips when she read. I scanned the screen. We looked at each other, and our jaws dropped. It was from Kat:

"I just served James divorce papers. Can you help me find a place to stay?"