Ignoring the smirks that were aimed at me, I glanced around at the lunatics I called friends. “Where were we?”
“You were drooling?”
“You were obsessing?”
“We’d heard for the third time that he hadn’t taken his break yet?”
They were assholes.
“Help me remember to put down on my list that I need every level of staff to understand what a healthy BDSM dynamic looks like.” Ignoring the rest of their nonsense that’d all popped out at the same time, I focused on the important things…my club and watching the back door to see when the delivery guy arrived.
“The bartender is an idiot who couldn’t recognize a bad date, much less a bad BDSM situation.” That would not work for a BDSM club and it really shouldn’t work for the bar we were currently in either. “He didn’t have any idea why I’d want to make sure my bird up there actually eats.”
Some people were stupid.
It was clear that my friends would’ve lumped me in with the other stupid people but they were shortsighted.
Instead of making more drooling comments, Sam smirked and leaned back against the bench. “Fine. It’s a good idea either way. Everyone who’s there when the club is open, from the bartenders to the cleaning staff, needs to understand the club rules and what’s healthy behavior.”
We’d talked about the room monitors and people like that needing to be well versed, but after talking to the well-put-together idiot, it was obvious we needed to take it further.
“Agreed.” Rick seemed to have decided to move on from commenting on myobsessionand focus on the plans. “But thatmeans you’re going to have to draw up lists about what is healthy behavior.”
Fuck.
As I started to get an ulcer from adding one more thing to my to-do list, Jeff finally spoke up with something productive. “That needs to be something a professional works up. I know a shrink who’s into the lifestyle. He’d be willing to help with it.”
As I rolled my eyes and dug my phone out of my pocket, Sam spoke up again. “Pretty sure that’s not what you should be calling him.”
Jeff laughed, obviously not worried about offending anyone. “He’s a little. He thinks it’s funny.”
Ah.
Ignoring their chaos, I stayed on point and focused on the now snickering Jeff, who was trying to dodge Sam’s hand since it was currently trying to smack his head.
We really should’ve done more talking before they’d gotten drinks.
I let the chaos continue for what seemed like an eternity before I gestured between the slightly tipsy morons.
“Focus, please. If you wouldn’t mind asking your friend, that would be great.” It’d get one more thing off my plate as long as his friend was truly a therapist of some sort.
I glanced down at my phone to look at my list. I was about to make them help me work my way through a few more decisions when they all went silent. Even with the loud, thumping noise of the music in the background, it was noticeable, so I looked up to see them all googly-eyed.
Oh.
My bird had come down from his perch.
He had the strangest glare on his face as he held up the food I’d ordered for him. “Really?”
I couldn’t tell if it was an angry glare or ayou have big ballsglare. I’d seen him use both on people but never from this close.
“I’m going to need more words before I understand what to do next.” The barest flash of a grin as his eyes sparkled had me feeling braver. “Communication is the key to every successful relationship, even between a stalker and the…stalkee?”
As my fascination rolled his eyes, I turned to Sam, who usually had the best vocabulary. “Is that a word? Stalker and stalked just doesn’t sound right. He’s not some kind of tomato plant.”
Sam was just gaping like he’d never expected the sexy bird to actually come down to visit the peasants who worshiped him. Idiot. “You’re useless.”
Looking back to my bird, I frowned. “Do you affect everyone like that? It has to be frustrating. How do you go grocery shopping?”
