The Agreement (14 page)

SCOPE OF WORK

A.
         
For the Informant to provide insight and background on the lifestyle, including
but not limited to a description of initial experiences and training,
practices, preferences, former partners (to remain anonymous) and any public or
private functions attended as part of the pursuit of the lifestyle.

B.
     The Informant may, from time to time, take the
Researcher to various cultural events that are part of the lifestyle for
research purposes only. The Informant will refrain from attempting to initiate
any physical contact with the Researcher except to demonstrate some aspect of
the lifestyle when asked by the Researcher and agreed to prior to the
demonstration.

C.
     Breach of this agreement by initiating any physical
contact without the Researcher prior consent and agreement will render the
agreement null and void.

PERIOD OF PERFORMANCE

The period of performance under this agreement will be from
November 15
,
or date of execution, whichever is earlier, through
December
30
.

ENTIRE AGREEMENT

This agreement represents all the terms and conditions
agreed upon by the parties.  No other statements or representations,
written or oral, shall be deemed a part hereof. 

APPROVAL

This contract shall be subject to the written approval of
the Researcher and shall not be binding until so approved.  The agreement
may be altered, amended, or waived only by a written amendment executed by both
parties. Consisting of 2 pages and 0 attachment(s), this agreement is executed
by the persons signing below, who warrant they have the authority to execute
the agreement.

I had my father to thank that I knew my way
around a legal document.

I printed off the agreement and held it in my
hand. After imagining what he'd tell me about his practices and preferences, I
realized I was really afraid. It wasn’t him I feared. It was fear of myself and
how I might just respond to him and to the lifestyle.

~~~

I received an email the next morning from him.

From:
               
Morgan, D. L.

Sent:    
               
November 08, 5:31 PM

To:       
               
McDermott, Katherine M.

Subject:             
The Agreement

Attachments:  The
Agreement.doc (50 KB)

Katherine, I received
your agreement and will read it over. We can discuss when we meet.


Drake

That Friday, I sent him a text, deciding I might
as well set up a few dates for the interviews.

Why don't you send me your schedule so we can
set up some dates to meet next week and discuss the lifestyle. We can discuss
the agreement at that time.  I'm pretty free for the next couple of weeks
with the exception of Monday and so I'd like to get started with the
interviews.

He responded within a few minutes.

I'm pretty busy all week with my surgical slate
and personal commitments… What are you doing on Monday night? What time are you
done? I could make a late meal at a restaurant, if you're free after 10 PM.

I frowned. Monday night was
not
a good
night. I was going to Carnegie Hall with my father and his wife to hear
Gorecki's Symphony Number 3. It was very meaningful to me because my mother and
I used to go each year.

I'm going to Carnegie
Hall with my father and his wife.

A special Veteran's Day performance featuring
Dawn Upshaw at the Stern Auditorium, on the Perleman Stage, the concert was
part of the Great Singers program. He texted me back in a few moments.

I want to take you.

What? No freakin'
way
. I always cried
during the performance, unable to hold my emotions in check and there was no
way in
hell
I wanted to be anywhere near Drake Morgan when I was an
emotional wreck.

We could meet after. I
don't know if I'm ready to start the whole 'dating' ruse yet…

I chewed my bottom lip, wondering if he'd accept
my alternate arrangement but he had his own ideas.

We could meet there by accident during
intermission. I could invite you out for a late meal. I'm sure your father
would be pleased. We could start the whole interview process.

I didn’t respond, trying to find a way to say no. As if he
sensed it, he texted back right away.

I'll have you home by midnight as I have surgery
early in the morning. No funny business. Scout's Honor…

Damn him. I couldn't really find an excuse to say no quickly
enough.

I'll go for coffee and dessert with you but this
is a special family event. We always have a family dinner before the concert.

He wouldn't take no for an answer.

Can you hold off eating and join me at The
Russian Tea Room? I feel like some Pelmeni and blini. Have you been and tried
their blini? To die for. I would love company.

I sighed and dialed my father's number.

"Hi, Dad," I said, resigned to this.
"Drake Morgan asked if I could go for dinner with him after the concert on
Monday."

"That's great," he said, sounding so
enthusiastic. "No problem."

"We usually have a special family dinner
before…"

"I know you'd rather be with Drake, so go
right ahead, dear. You know, you're old enough to date now," he said,
laughing. "Why don't you invite him to come sit with us? I know you'd
enjoy having some company."

Crap
. No help from him, of course.

"I don't think so, Dad. He's probably busy
with his band."

I texted Drake back.

My father is very rigid about these things but I
told him you invited me to go for a meal after the concert and he said I could
miss our usual family dinner. Boy, does he like you… If he only knew…

He texted right back.

He doesn’t know and I want things to stay that
way. I don't want him finding out about my… pastimes. Just keep that in mind
when you worry that I'll push your boundaries. I won't.

I responded immediately.

I'll hold you to that. Good afternoon.

Of course, his response was almost getting predictable.

I'll meet you in the lobby during intermission.
Until then, Ms. Bennet…

I couldn’t help but smile at that, despite
hating him just a bit for it. I could almost see the twinkle in his oh-so-blue
eyes…

CHAPTER SEVEN

On Monday night, my father and Elaine and I
arrived at Carnegie Hall for the concert.  As we took our places in my
father's box, I settled in next to the overhang looking out at the seats below
and checked over the program. Ms. Upshaw was singing a selection of music, but
it was the first part of the evening that I looked forward to the most.
Symphony
No. 3
– the second movement from Symphony of Sorrowful Songs, written
about the Second World War, the lyrics comprised of a young woman's prayer
written on a wall in a Gestapo Prison in Poland.

Every year, my mother and I would attend a live
performance of this symphony somewhere in the country and neither of us could
keep a dry eye throughout. We held hands and comforted each other while we
sniveled away, tissues at our eyes. My great-grandparents on my mother's side
were from Poland and lost several relatives in the war. This was the third year
since she died and the first time I attended a performance of the work. I made
sure to bring extra tissues in my bag. I got choked up even thinking of it and
was glad we were in our box so no one would see me.

Then, Drake appeared at the door to our box and
I turned to my father, who made a great show of standing up to shake his hand.

"There you are, my boy. So glad you could
make it. Come and join us!"

My father turned to me and smiled, his eyebrows
raised as if he'd just given me a present.

Crap
…

I stared up at Drake, frowning.
"Drake…"

My father stood and moved over so that Drake
could sit next to me. Drake smiled and took my hand, leaning down to kiss my
cheek.

"I ran into your father at the health club
and when he asked me if I was joining you, I told him I was able to rearrange
my jam session with my band to another night and was pleased to keep you
company."

I sat with my mouth open like a fish out of
water. "Oh," I managed. "That's … good to know."

After he and my father good-fellowed each other
for a few moments, he unbuttoned his jacket and sat down beside me. He smelled
so good, wearing some really nice cologne. I couldn’t place the scent but it
was pleasant. I could tell from the fabric and cut that his suit was very
expensive.  Dark grey silk of some blend with a white shirt and black tie.
He moved around to get comfortable, one arm going on the back of my seat, his
legs spread wide as if he owned the whole world.

He turned and smiled at me, arching his eyebrow,
then leaned closer, his face next to mine, his lips near my ear.

"Don't sound so pleased to see me. Nice
move, by the way, forgetting to invite me to sit in your box as your father
asked," he said, his breath warm on my cheek.

My father turned back to Drake and he answered
my father's questions about his band, his hands animated as he spoke, telling
my father about the music his own father used to play and how it influenced
him. He took out a pair of opera glasses and talked about them, saying they
were his great grandmother's. They spoke together conspiratorially as I tried
to figure out what I was going to do about Drake being there.

While my father and Elaine leaned in the other
direction with their own glasses, checking out who else was in attendance, I
leaned over to Drake but didn't meet his eyes.

"I consider this pushing my limits."

I caught his smile from the corner of my eye.
"I'm a good Dom, Kate," he whispered to me, moving closer. "We
push our sub's limits. It's the only way they experience anything new or as
intensely as they could because they're too afraid on their own."

"You said you'd honor the agreement to the
letter."

"It hasn't taken effect yet. Not until
November 15th, if I recall correctly. This is just me being who I am."

I sat and stewed. "This is a special event
for me," I said, my voice low. "I don't want you here."

"What do you mean?"

"Why don't you ask my
father
?"