My concern was muted—replaced with a fireball of excitement. I always loved presents. My dad wasn’t always the greatest at showing affection, but he showed love with gifts; showered me with them until I became accustomed to getting them nearly every time we saw each other. Sometimes they were small gifts—a set of stickers for my planner or a new roll of washi tape. Sometimes they were big. Like when he became ill and gave me both his wedding ring and my mother’s wedding band and engagement ring.
I shifted my weight, feeling restless and suddenly aware of how naked I was beneath the robe. Damn, I wish I’d thought to put on something more than just a thong after my massage.
“Sit down,” Jude instructed, gesturing to the bed. I sat and crossed my legs, careful to tug the robe tightly shut, covering any bit of flesh at the tops of my thighs. “Remember rule number one in our Dom/sub contract?”
“Ummm,” I thought back to that morning. Between the massage, the facial, the nails, the pedicure, and Omar’s phone call… it felt like a lifetime ago.
“Every day, Poppy must wear an item…”
“…that reminds her of Jude,” I finished for him.
“Well…” From behind his back, he produced a long, slim jewelry box. “This is what I got for you to wear.”
I cautiously took the box. The royal blue velvet was lush and thick and screamed money. But whatever this was, it didn’t come from a box store. There was noCartierlogo or Tiffany’s signature bright blue box. If anything, it seemed old and there was a faded navy inset of damask within the royal blue, decorating the box. Already, without opening it, the box itself was gorgeous. “It looks like an antique,” I said, dragging my fingertips across the textured velvet. Like petting a cat in the wrong direction, it sent a chill down my spine.
“Itisan antique,” he said. “Open it.”
The hinge of the box creaked in protest as I flipped it open. Inside, a silver choker lay flat against the royal blue satin padding. At the center of the necklace was a cream-colored cameo; the profile of a Victorian woman, with her hair in curls piled on top of her head. “Wow,” I exhaled the word on a sigh. “It’s… it’s gorgeous.”
Jude reached over, taking the necklace from the box and held it up for me to get a better look. “It’s from 1879. I went shopping to find an item to remind you of me… as said in our contract. I was at all these shops on Rodeo Drive, and nothing stood out to me. Nothing seemed like you… not Chanel, not Hermes. And then, I was driving home and came across this little antique shop. And there it was.”
“I haven’t worn a choker in…” I laughed. “Hell, I don’t think I’veeverworn a choker.”
“May I?” he asked, holding the necklace up, gesturing to my neck.
I nodded, gathering my hair on top of my head, feeling a little like the woman in the cameo, with all my hair clenched in my fist at my crown. Jude reached around and the cold silver brushed my clavicle as he dragged it up my throat, hinging the clasp at the back of my neck.
“There,” he said. “It reminded me a little of the dog collars a lot of subs wear.”
My head snapped around to look at him. A dog collar? That’s what he thought of?
His grin widened. “Easy, there, Poppy. I knew you weren’t the dog collar sort of sub. But this necklace, it will give you a small taste of what it’s like for the subs who do get collared. It’s similar, yet different. More… you. Or at least, the you I’ve gotten to know in twenty-four hours.”
I stood, walking over to the mirror and brushed my hand over the necklace. It was gorgeous. Unlike anything I’d ever worn before. The diamond from my mother’s engagement ring caught the light and I couldn’t help but compare the two pieces of jewelry. “My mom loved antique jewelry,” I said.
“You do too, right?” Jude said, walking toward me. I tilted my head at him. What made him say that?
“Your engagement ring,” Jude said. “It’s got to be pre-World War Two.”
I wrapped my hand around my left knuckle. “You noticed that?”
Jude nodded, reaching out and taking my hand. “These etchings here… the filigree, it’s usually found in pieces from the 20s. Very deco. Very Gatsby of you.” He winked and released my hand.
“It was my mother’s ring,” I said. “She had a love for ornate, old jewelry.” I laughed, “Actually, she had a love for ornate oldanything. My dad told me that she bought this fainting couch before they got married. They had a big fight about it because he thought it was so impractical and that she’d never use it. So, she dragged it over in front of her desk and used it instead of her office chair every day.”
Jude laughed, his smile wide and beautiful, creasing his eyes in a way that warmth and happiness seemed to radiate from him. “I wish I could have met her.”
“Me, too.” I said. And meant it. How weird was it that Jude had me talking about my mom twice in two days?
“But maybe I can meet your father.”
My throat went tight. “He died, too. Right after New Year’s.” Once more, my eyes drifted to where my planner rested beside the bedside. That planner was the last gift I got from him on Christmas right before he died. “This will be my first Christmas without him.”
“Marly,” Jude whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
My right hand curled around my left knuckles, clutching my fingers; my mother’s ring. Hiding it. A sharp breath punched out of my lungs and I forced myself to focus on the sharp edge of the diamond setting. How it pressed into my tender palm, indenting my soft skin. I took a breath and gave Jude my best smile. But it felt too forced. Rickety, like one of my mom’s stupid antiques that needed fixing. “It’s fine,” I said. “But thank you.” How many times had I said different iterations of that phrase to people?I’ll be okay, thank you. Everything’s fine, thanks. Thank you, but I’m fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. I’d said that word so much in my life, that it had lost all meaning.
And I was pretty sure Jude saw right through it. Saw throughme. Because the man noticedeverything. Every time he watched me, his gaze was sharp and cutting; like a machete, able to hack through brush and weeds. He was able to slice through my bullshit and see the truth behind my words.
