Read Online Learning to Trust: Paradigm Shift by B. B. Roman - Free Book Online
Authors: B. B. Roman
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Oh dear, where do I begin?
I didn't like that Roland was suddenly so furious with me, his sacred pet . I had done what he had suggested, accepting the job and going to my first day of work. Sure, I had wanted it too, but that didn't mean he could just blow up at me like that.
When I got upstairs, I immediately put on my workout clothes and fled to the treadmill to run away my frustrations. Every drop of sweat coincided with another shift in my thinking, another instance of constantly evolving curiosity and planning. I was in a tough situation, all right . Should I ask him for the truth? Would he even tell me? Or should I just demand an apology and assume that everything was just in my imagination?
I had seen the office now, and I was going to manage it. Everything looked normal, sterile and obvious. And everyone there seemed to fit that mold as well. Were they all keeping their mouths shut, a whole office of people that perpetuated and covered up huge crimes on a daily basis? Was I going totally crazy for thinking that things I'd heard and seen were tidbits of dark secrets, only absorbed by me in tiny doses? Oh, Marisa...
Despite feeling a little like I was in danger— it was possibly heightened by the adrenaline rush from my running—my curiosity was piqued in a way that almost stung. I realized that if I didn't figure out what was going on, I'd go crazy. I'm sure I could leave today, Roland having the whole departure arranged in less than a minute. But I had submitted to him, opening up to him so that he would do the same to me. I came here to do a story—and stayed for a different reason entirely.
At this point, I needed a plan—and a shower .
As usual, I formulated my plan in that gorgeous private bathroom , going through each step in my mind until I had the whole process refined. I was going to just wait and see what happened, demanding an apology instead of information. Perhaps I'd touch on the seriousness of the visitor, but I wouldn't dig any deeper than that . Roland might just provide me with something I could chew on in the meantime...
I decided that I'd have to wait for the real information to spill out naturally—if it did at all. It was more of a passive approach, one that seemed safer given the extreme possibilities if this all went south. Maintaining my role in the relationship seemed like the safest best in more ways than one, rather than acting like a reporter and drawing unneeded attention to myself.
When dinner finally rolled around, I threw on my robe and cautiously crept down the stairs, worried that I'd run into an assassin or something when I reached the main floor. I experienced no such thing, however, and made my way into the dining room. Roland was already there, smoking a cigar.
"Marisa, my pet, I do apologize from before. Just a bit of business ." He stood up and pulled out my chair for me. "A drink?"
"Yeah," I said. "Whatever." I was trying to give him the impression that I was upset.
He came back from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and poured me a glass. "Only the finest for my pet," he said, smiling unusually large. I maintained my look of neutrality.
"I didn't like that today, Roland," I said. "I don't like how you blew up at me like that. It was so easy for you."
His smile faded as he sat back down in his chair. "Ah, yes, I do apologize. Things went awry and although it probably sounds worse than what it is, measures needed to be taken. I'm still tying up loose ends from my father's days."
"Loose ends?" I said, suddenly very curious. Shit! I was trying to play the emotionally hurt Marisa, not the one on a quest for truth. "It just hurt my feelings a lot. I was really embarrassed when you yelled at me from the hall."
"I think I know what needs to be done," Roland said, more serious than I'd ever heard him before.
"What?" I asked.
"I need to be punished for my transgressions. Tonight, we'll go to the dungeon and you'll punish me."
Weird . I wasn't expecting
Oh dear, where do I begin?
I didn't like that Roland was suddenly so furious with me, his sacred pet . I had done what he had suggested, accepting the job and going to my first day of work. Sure, I had wanted it too, but that didn't mean he could just blow up at me like that.
When I got upstairs, I immediately put on my workout clothes and fled to the treadmill to run away my frustrations. Every drop of sweat coincided with another shift in my thinking, another instance of constantly evolving curiosity and planning. I was in a tough situation, all right . Should I ask him for the truth? Would he even tell me? Or should I just demand an apology and assume that everything was just in my imagination?
I had seen the office now, and I was going to manage it. Everything looked normal, sterile and obvious. And everyone there seemed to fit that mold as well. Were they all keeping their mouths shut, a whole office of people that perpetuated and covered up huge crimes on a daily basis? Was I going totally crazy for thinking that things I'd heard and seen were tidbits of dark secrets, only absorbed by me in tiny doses? Oh, Marisa...
Despite feeling a little like I was in danger— it was possibly heightened by the adrenaline rush from my running—my curiosity was piqued in a way that almost stung. I realized that if I didn't figure out what was going on, I'd go crazy. I'm sure I could leave today, Roland having the whole departure arranged in less than a minute. But I had submitted to him, opening up to him so that he would do the same to me. I came here to do a story—and stayed for a different reason entirely.
At this point, I needed a plan—and a shower .
As usual, I formulated my plan in that gorgeous private bathroom , going through each step in my mind until I had the whole process refined. I was going to just wait and see what happened, demanding an apology instead of information. Perhaps I'd touch on the seriousness of the visitor, but I wouldn't dig any deeper than that . Roland might just provide me with something I could chew on in the meantime...
I decided that I'd have to wait for the real information to spill out naturally—if it did at all. It was more of a passive approach, one that seemed safer given the extreme possibilities if this all went south. Maintaining my role in the relationship seemed like the safest best in more ways than one, rather than acting like a reporter and drawing unneeded attention to myself.
When dinner finally rolled around, I threw on my robe and cautiously crept down the stairs, worried that I'd run into an assassin or something when I reached the main floor. I experienced no such thing, however, and made my way into the dining room. Roland was already there, smoking a cigar.
"Marisa, my pet, I do apologize from before. Just a bit of business ." He stood up and pulled out my chair for me. "A drink?"
"Yeah," I said. "Whatever." I was trying to give him the impression that I was upset.
He came back from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and poured me a glass. "Only the finest for my pet," he said, smiling unusually large. I maintained my look of neutrality.
"I didn't like that today, Roland," I said. "I don't like how you blew up at me like that. It was so easy for you."
His smile faded as he sat back down in his chair. "Ah, yes, I do apologize. Things went awry and although it probably sounds worse than what it is, measures needed to be taken. I'm still tying up loose ends from my father's days."
"Loose ends?" I said, suddenly very curious. Shit! I was trying to play the emotionally hurt Marisa, not the one on a quest for truth. "It just hurt my feelings a lot. I was really embarrassed when you yelled at me from the hall."
"I think I know what needs to be done," Roland said, more serious than I'd ever heard him before.
"What?" I asked.
"I need to be punished for my transgressions. Tonight, we'll go to the dungeon and you'll punish me."
Weird . I wasn't expecting
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