The Art of Submission by Ella Dominguez Read Free Book Online

contact, but he doesn’t.
    As he leans down on one elbow on my desk, he
asks, “Do you have plans for tonight?” The question sending a lewd
smile creeping across his face.
    He’s close to me… too close. “Uh… yes.
I do. I’m having dinner… umm… with friends.” Why do I have to be such a horrible liar?
    “I didn’t know you had any friends,” he says
with sarcasm oozing from his statement.
    He’s right, I don’t have any friends, but that’s none of his
damned business.
    We’re interrupted by Monica and it’s one of
the rare times I’m actually happy to see her. She eyes me
suspiciously. She totally has a thing for Greer and she makes it
blatantly obvious. She sees the position Greer is in and how close
he is to me, and I get the very distinct impression she wants to
piss on him right now to mark her territory. A small giggle slips
out at the thought.
    “What’s going on over here?” She asks
snidely, casually putting her hand on Greer’s bicep.
    Greer stands up, looks over at her and rolls
his eyes. “What do you want Ms. Grayson?” He asks impatiently.
    You , you
oblivious dumbass, I think to myself. She starts talking
uncontrollably, making it up as she goes along. Now’s my chance to
make my quick escape. He looks over at me as I grab my jacket and
he’s about to say something, but Monica interrupts him. Thank you Monica!
    Once out the door, I feel a huge sense of
relief. I wish I’d never slept with him. Now he’s going to think he
can have me anytime he wants. Oh well, I can’t think about that
right now.
    Before I go home, I decide to stop off
at the bank before it closes, and deposit my check. Ugh. It
depresses to think how I earned it. At the bank, I encounter a
teller named “Ben.” He looks me over disapprovingly. No surprise
there. It’s funny how money has a certain effect on people. Once I
hand him my large check, his look completely changes. Now he smiles
broadly at me. When he sees where the check is written from, he
looks back at me and asks if I’m an artist. Who? Me? I don’t think so . I flatly tell him no
and I don’t elaborate any further. He seems puzzled by my response
and lack of explanation. Whatever. Just deposit my check you
jerk.
    I’ve never had this much of my own
money before. It’s a strange feeling; liberating. Maybe I’ll just
spend a little of it. There’s a lovely pair of Chie Mihara Mary
Jane’s I’ve been eyeing over at Strut Those Shoes. They’d normally
be way out of my price range, but now, well... I’ve never just let
go and made an impulse buy, so I decide to take the plunge and do
it .
    I make my way down the street and head
towards the store. Once inside, I get the usual disapproving looks
from the other patrons, but the help is friendly and I soon have my
Mary Jane’s in hand. As I’m heading towards the cashier I spy a
cute Apple & Bee envelope bag, and decide to purchase that,
too. Well, there goes $400. Now buyer’s remorse sets in. Just stop Isa . You deserve this.
    I meander around the shopping district,
taking my time. There’s no rush to get back home and I’m avoiding
going back at all costs, the main reason being fearful that Greer
will show up unannounced to see if I really do have plans with
friends. I’ll stop and get a bite to eat, that should take at least
half an hour.
    After procrastinating as long as
possible, I catch the #221 bus back to my neighborhood, the whole
way thinking about my encounter with Dylan Young. Why can’t I have
someone like that , just once?
Is that so much to ask? I might have a chance if only I were 6 inches taller, had
dark hair, smaller breasts, better taste in clothing… hell. Who am
I kidding? I don’t stand a chance with a man like that. Life is so
unfair sometimes. I just remind myself, that I can have him as
often and as much as I want…. in my dreams
and on canvas.
    The sun is just starting to set when I
arrive back in my neighborhood. I’m daydreaming about Mr. Young
again