Seb
Later that afternoon when I was slumped into my couch, trying to write a paper but in reality brooding over my frustrating talk with David, my phone rang.
I glanced at my cell phone and then straightened. One name popped up on the screen.
Monsieur.
Okay, that was a little freaky. Pretty sure I’d never been given Monsieur’s phone number in the first place, much less input his name into my phone. Guess the guy really did have his ways.
“Hello,” I said cautiously. “This is Seb.”
“Seb, hello, this is Monsieur. So glad I was able to catch you,” came Monsieur’s silky voice. “I hope this call finds you in good health.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m doing well. And you?”
“I’m in excellent health, Seb, so kind of you to inquire. How is school going? Are you ready for that test in Ancient Greek studies?”
I shook my head, bemused. At this point, I shouldn’t be surprised at how much Monsieur knew about my life. “Almost. I’ve got a little more studying to do, but I think I’ll be okay.”
He asked me a few more casual questions about my life. The man was so smooth that I almost forgot that he had to have called for a reason.
When I answered another question about university life with a vaguely positive reply, he finally clicked his tongue.
“Here’s the thing, Seb. As the proprietor of the Billionaire Club, I feel personally responsible for the happiness of my members, whether they’re patrons or consorts, and to ensure that the dating process is proving satisfactory. Not to be indelicate, but might I inquire as to how your dates with David are coming along? I hope our illustrious professor is treating you well.”
Uh, okay. Not only did Monsieur approve and manage the club’s entire dating pool, but he personally checked up on each potential pairing? Even TrueLove.com couldn’t top that kind of customer service. “Um, the dates were fine.” I winced at how lame I sounded. Especially when my brain swarmed with memories from our last date. “Good! I mean, they were good. And David, yeah, he’s treating me well. Everything is coming along fine, I think.”
“I see,” Monsieur said. “I’m glad things between you and David seem to be coming along. What did you do on your dates, if you don’t mind another intrusion?”
Good thing he couldn’t see my face. My cheeks blazed as details from our last date continued to flash by. “We, um, went to dinner one night, and I cooked for him another. And we went for a walk.”
Skillfully, Monsieur drew out more and more details, until I’d painted a colorful picture of our time together. An image of David undressing me flashed behind my eyes, followed by the memory of the slick warmth of his mouth on my cock. My skin burned. Yeah, no. I think I’d keep those details all to myself.
“Well, that all sounds delightful! So, why, Seb, am I detecting some misgivings on your part?” Monsieur scolded.
I coughed. Shit. “Um, misgivings?” I said. Mostly to buy myself some time.
Monsieur sighed down the line. “I know this may all seem a trifle odd, but it’s crucial that our potential consorts keep us informed of even the slightest hesitations they might have with the process or the dates. That helps the club ensure that only the most suitable couples enter into contracts, which keeps everyone happy. Please, you can tell me anything. Trust me when I say, there’s nothing you could possibly say that would shock me at this point in my life.”
I bit my lip. What the hell? Like Monsieur said, he’d been doing this for a while. Maybe he could help somehow or, give me some advice or something. “I guess I am a little worried that David isn’t going to offer a long-term contract. We sort of talked like we were, but before we ironed out the details, the university stuff came up again.”
Monsieur’s eyes narrowed. “So the rumors about you losing your teaching assistant position are true?”
I swallowed hard at the sharp edge to his voice. “Yes, that and the part where the history department is basically threatening us if we keep up our relationship. I guess some of the board members don’t exactly approve of a professor dating a grad student—especially when they’re both men.”
I exhaled after I blurted out all of that information. There. Let Monsieur do what he would with it.
“I see. Well, that won’t do at all, will it?” Monsieur said. From the clipped way his words fell, I knew he was displeased. “I’ll have a little chat with David and see if we can’t get to the bottom of this. I appreciate your honesty, Seb. I’ll be in touch.”
The line went dead before I could finish saying good-bye, leaving me to stare at the phone in a daze. Yeah, no, that hadn’t been weird at all. My Iowa upbringing had totally prepped me for spontaneous heart-to-hearts with directors of exclusive billionaire dating clubs.
I jumped to my feet and started pacing my floor. Now what? Did I just wait around and see if Monsieur could help David with his case of cold feet? Even if he could, was that what I wanted? What the hell kind of basis was that for a relationship, when your partner had to be convinced by a rich third party that the whole thing was worth the effort?
Screw that. Sure, I was young and had plenty left to learn, but I deserved better than a partner who had to be coaxed into wanting me. I punched David’s number into my phone. After four rings, his answering service greeted me.
While I waited for the beep, my frustrations grew. Even now, after all of this, the thought of breaking things off with David completely was a sharp knife to the heart.
That pain, though? It would only get worse the longer I waited.
The beep finally sounded, so I drew in a deep breath and blurted exactly what was going through my head. “Hi, David, it’s Seb. I just had a talk with Monsieur and, I don’t know. I guess I’m feeling more mixed up than ever. All things considered, maybe it’s best if we take a break? Give you some time to think? Up to now, it’s been me pushing and pestering you about a relationship…and I’m starting to think that maybe that’s why we keep hitting the wall. Look, it’s not your fault if you’re, well, just not that into me.”
I gave a choked laugh. Really? Nice one, Seb. Way to make him roll his eyes at yet another of my millennialisms. Oh well. At this point, I really had nothing left to lose. “For this relationship to have a shot, we both have to be equally into it. I don’t know that you’re there yet, and while, shit, yeah, it hurts, it’s not your fault. You feel what you feel…or don’t, you know? And now that I’m barely making sense, I’m going to hang up. Take care, David. I…yeah.”
My throat seized up on that last word, so I hit end and covered my face with my hands. Great. I’d sounded like a complete dumbass. Did guys in his social circles ever leave phone messages like that? I tried to picture David breaking up with someone, and the only image that popped into my head was one of him formally shaking another man’s hand.
Whatever. Despite the high-school flashbacks, a weight had lifted off my shoulders. For better or worse, my feelings were out there and now the ball was in his court. I’d given him an easy out.
All I could do now was wait to see if he took it.