Dear Mistress Julie,
I want to apologize for any fright or distress I might have inadvertently caused you. I don’t think I have, but just in case. I didn’t mean to worry you when I sent the gift to your house.
If you’d like to know who I am, I am willing to meet.
I haven’t revealed myself before because I’ve been unsure of what you would think. Of what everyone would think. But I’m tired of hiding.
I’ll be at Marquis next Friday in a booth by myself. I’ll have a bouquet of roses for you. If you would be open to joining me, I would love to try serving you for the evening. If not, I understand. I hope, at the very least, that I’ve given you some pleasure over the past year.
Yours, ever in admiration.
Bracing his elbows on the table, he pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets, taking several deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down. This was feeling more and more like a mistake every second. Why hadn’t he thought through all the possible repercussions before walking in here?
Because I was too focused on how Mistress Julie, I forgot to think about everyone else.
Maybe not forgot so much as pushed it out of his mind. Because he’d wanted to roll the dice and see what happened if he revealed himself. See if the fantasies he had in his head matched up with reality.
He should go.
Dropping his hands down he lifted his head… and found himself looking at the woman herself, standing on the other side of the table. She looked stunning, in a blue shirt and black skirt, her long hair pulled back up way from her face in a bun, with two sticks that had little dangly decorations hanging from them stuck through it. With him sitting down in the booth, they were about the same height, and her gaze pierced him as she tilted her head, like she was wondering what he was doing there… or maybe just wondering why he appeared to be having a meltdown.
He felt a moment of panic.
She did realize he was there to meet her, right?
Or would it be better if she didn’t, and he could just pretend all of this never happened?
Golden Angel is a USA Today best-selling author and self-described bibliophile with a "kinky" bent who loves to write stories for the characters in her head. If she didn't get them out, she's pretty sure she'd go just a little crazy.
She is happily married, old enough to know better but still too young to care, and a big fan of happily-ever-afters, strong heroes and heroines, and sizzling chemistry.
When she's not writing, she can often be found on the couch reading, in front of her sewing machine making a new cosplay, hanging out with her friends, or wandering the Maryland Renaissance Fair.
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