Charles stopped for a moment. She looked familiar. “I’m sorry, I can’t quite place you.”
Sharlene motioned for Charles to sit. “You almost ran me over when you left Danielle.”
“That was you? I’m sorry.”
Sharlene laughed. “It was partly my fault. When I heard Danielle start to act her usual, snotty self, I eavesdropped. Then I heard her mention your training at Ash House. Quite the intriguing thing, aren’t you?”
Sharlene kept the tone of the interview brisk and businesslike and Charles spoke about his time in Flagstaff, but it soon became apparent that although they shared an interest or two, their styles of play were different. While Charles considered himself an experienced player, Lady Sharlene was light years ahead of him. She sought a slave who would submit to piercings, a tattoo a
