Chapter 2

I have a job that I love. It’s high power and people look up to me. Sometimes they think I have the answer to everything. Well, I dohave the answer to most questions, but I still haven’t found the answer to life, to mylife. I guess that’s what I was looking for.

I made myself a cup of coffee, dragged out a score I was studying, and sat down at my piano to await her call.

About forty-five minutes later, the phone rang and I answered it.

“Shelby, have we met? Your name seems very familiar.”

“No, I doubt we’ve met, but you may have seen me onstage. I’m the conductor of the Oakwood Philharmonic Orchestra.”

“Ah, yes,” she exclaimed. “I know who you are. It makes more sense now.” She paused for a moment. It sounded like she was putting something onto her computer. “I have a few questions for you,” she finally said.

“All right. What can I tell you?”

“Why do you want to come see me? I think I know, but do you?”

“I’m not sure. I’m looking for something to my life, but I don’t know what it is. I get tired of being in charge every minute of every day, but I can’t just give in to anyone. I need to keep up my image.

“Yes, and if you appear weak, you’ll lose their respect, which you need to do your job.”

“Exactly,” I responded, “I think I’d like to relax for once and let someone else make decisions.”

“And if you feel stronger than someone, or better educated, you can’t release anything to them.”

I grimaced. “That’s about it. At times I wish I was back inthe orchestra playing second oboe.”

“Is that your instrument?”

“One of them. It’s the one I started on. Second oboe parts are innocuous; no solos, no responsibility: just blend in.”

Did I hear her chuckling? “Yes, that’s what I thought. There are a lot of people in your position. I think I can help you. Are you looking for sex?”

“No, not per se. I mean, if that’s part of it, that’s fine, but just sex? No.”

“That’s good, because you will nottouch me. I’m sure your friend told you that I’m not a prostitute.”

“Yes, that was one of my first concerns, but Earl assured me you weren’t.”

“Good, now Shelby, do you have any fears? Are you afraid of the dark? Of heights? Bugs of any kind? Are you claustrophobic?”

“No, none of those. I’m okay with all that. I think my only fear is to appear unprepared in front of an audience.”

“And by audience, you’re not talking merely a group of strangers sitting in a theater, are you?”

I paused. How did she know me so well? “No, I’m not.” I knew she couldn’t see me shaking my head.

“Have you had problems in relationships? Have you had trouble giving up enough to have satisfying sex?”

Yes, she knew me. “Occasionally.” She seemed to know everything.

“Yes, if someone feels weaker than you or not as educated, you can’t allow them control. Am I correct?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“Now, are there any limits to what I can do?”

“Limits? Like what?”

“I have some clients who wear contacts and don’t want anything near their eyes.”

“Oh, I can’t endanger my face or my hands. No marks where they’d show.”

“Are you afraid of needles under your skin?”

“You mean shots?”

“No, not for medical purposes. Just the needles themselves, being placed under the top layers of your skin.”

“I don’t think so. I’m not sure I’ve ever had it done.”

“No. I’m sure you haven’t.”

“But I’m not afraid of a little pain.”

Was she chuckling?

She paused. I heard the computer keyboard clicking. She was definitely writing this down. “Do you have any medical problems?”

“No.”

“All right. What city do you feel safest in?”

I had to consider that. “Boston, I think. I grew up there.”

“Then, can you use Boston as your safe word?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer.

“A safe word is a red light,” she explained when I hesitated. “It’s a definite stop. When people say no, no, noor stop, stop, it sometimes means yes, yes, yesor don’t stop, that’s too good. If you say Boston, I’ll know you’re serious and will stop immediately. By stop, I mean Conclude. End.If you say Boston, that’s it. You pick up your things and go home. Agreed?”

I took a deep breath. That seemed fair. “Yes, I agree.”

“Good. Now there are rules. When you walk in here, you are giving up all control. That may be hard for you but I’m sure that if you want this badly enough, you will do it. When you walk into my studio, you are my property for sixty minutes. Do you understand the full implications of that word?”

“Property?”

“Yes. You belong to me and I can do whatever I want with you. If you were afraid of the dark, I could lock you in a closet or I can make you stand out on the sidewalk naked. You are mine to do as I please.”

“I may have to use my safe word if you want me to go out in public without any clothes,” I said, almost chuckling.