Free In His Cuffs by Sierra Cartwright

warmer than normal? For certain, she would not behave like a submissive. She’d meet his gaze, talk to him as an equal.
    She’d half expected to hear from him yesterday. But the phone had remained silent. Her nerves were taut.
    Reminding herself she wasn’t a coward, she determinedly unwrapped her hands from the death grip she had on the steering wheel.
    She gathered her purse and briefcase, kept her sunglasses on her face to disguise the weekend’s lack of sleep then exited and locked the vehicle.
    Pretending this was a day like any other, she purposefully walked towards the brick building that housed World Wide Now. As she neared the entrance, her shoulders slumped a little. She could be in denial all she wanted. But most Monday mornings she didn’t arrive at the office bearing a welt her boss had left on her ass.
    She drew a breath, smoothed her skirt and hair, dropped her sunglasses in her purse then opened the door and stepped inside.
    The receptionist sat at the front desk, a huge mug of coffee in front of her.
    “Morning, Mags,” Barb greeted.
    “Tell me there’s more of that coffee?” she asked hopefully.
    “Are you kidding? I just put on the second pot. Should be about done.”
    “How long have you been here?”
    “Eleven minutes.”
    Maggie laughed. Good thing coffee went on the office supplies line item in the budget. Mr Tomlinson didn’t have to know how much was actually spent on staples and paperclips as opposed to caffeine. “So,” she said. “What kind of mood is David in today?”
    The receptionist shrugged. “No idea. I haven’t seen him yet.”
    “Meaning he’s in his office with the door closed?”
    “Meaning he hasn’t shown up yet. I was the first one here today.”
    Maggie blinked. World Wide Now had flexible work hours, except for certain prescheduled meetings. David Tomlinson was a by-the-rules and by-the-clock owner. Employees coming and going at all hours didn’t sit well with him and was one of the reasons he often reached for one of the many primary-coloured stress balls that he kept on his credenza. In all the time he’d owned the company, he’d never shown up late.
    “He didn’t call in or anything.” Barb shrugged. “Since he’s not here, it’s kind of a mini-vacation for us. You should enjoy it.”
    Maggie felt like a deflated balloon.
    It had taken her all morning to psyche herself up, and he wasn’t even here?
    After getting a much-needed cup of coffee, she headed for her office and slumped into the chair behind her desk.
    She checked her emails and voice messages. There was nothing from David, but she had a response from a potential client she’d been trying to schedule a meeting with. She also had a message from their preferred caterer. Maggie and her mother had decided to host an open house as a way to increase business and introduce David to their existing clients. It would keep her busy for a while and, honestly, give her something to fixate on other than her boss spanking her again.
    She wished the scene at the Den hadn’t met so many of her turn-ons.
    Damn.
    With determined focus, she sent a list of possible times to the potential new customer, studied the catering menu and made some notes to go over with David, since he now had to approve her budget. An hour later, her coffee was gone, she’d handled all the urgent tasks and she still hadn’t heard from her boss.
    Her mother, however, showed up in a long, flowing skirt and tank top, with jewellery dripping everywhere—necklaces, bracelets, earrings, even toe rings. She’d obviously dyed her hair over the weekend, and her fingernails were manicured. She looked fresh and radiant and, as she theatrically threw herself into a chair, every inch a creative diva.
    “What are you drinking?” Maggie asked, looking at the plastic cup her mother held. The liquid was deep green with chunks of something floating at the surface.
    “Green tea latte. With soy.”
    “Lactose intolerant again?” she