The Lover's Children

Chapter 59 – April’s Tears #10

JAMES

Borje measures me with his eye. “James, you’re not quite friendly to me over this, are you?”

“Am I not?”

“No, you’re not. You were happy enough to introduce me to Charlotte. But now that I’m interested in

your daughter, the shine’s worn off your smile.” He’s probably right. I am edgy over this. And for no

reason I can put my finger on.

Borje narrows his eyes. “Are you putting Larry up to this campaign against me?”

“No, I’m not. He’s protecting Georgie. At least, he thinks he is.”

“Georgie doesn't need protecting from me, so Larry can just fuck off.”

“He says you behave oddly around her. Maybe he has a point. What is it you want, Borje?”

“That should be obvious. I’m interested in Georgie. I wanted to ask you about her.”

“Ask? It's a bit old fashioned, isn't it, Borje? We're past the day when a woman needed her father’s

permission for her choices.”

His chin lifts. “James, I am not asking your permission. But I…”

“Georgie's not a child. She can look after herself.”

He arches brows. “You think? I think Georgie is rather more fragile than that. And besides, we both

know there are special circumstances.”

“Circumstances? What circumstances? Because you banged Charlotte a couple of times at the club?

Just because you’re fucking my daughter doesn’t make it my business.”

Borje colours up, his voice heating, “I am not fucking your daughter. I do not want to fuck her…” His

tone cools, but his skin is florid against the silver of his hair. “… I want a relationship with her. And I

would like to be sure, James, before I go any further than buying her a few meals, that this doesn't

cause any difficulties.”

“Difficulties? What kind of difficulties? Georgie’s a grown woman. It’s her decision who she chooses

to… to…” My words fail. I can’t bring myself to say them.

Borje rests forward, elbows on knees. “James, I have never heard you sound so insincere. For a man

who, I know for certain fact, believes that everyone, male and female alike, should make their own life

choices, you are completely unconvincing. Quite clearly, you do have a problem here.”

He’s right. I shouldn’t be reacting like this. But…

Georgie…

I can’t claim to know Borje well. But from what I do know of him, my experience of his behaviour, he’s a

decent man.

I’m being completely unjust. And I know it well.

My mouth is floury and sour. “Why don’t you pour yourself a drink. And another for me. The decanter’s

on the side over there.”

Borje opens his mouth as though to refuse, then closes it again. Nodding, he stands, and pours two

small whiskeys, passing one to me. Sipping, he swishes it around. “Not bad.”

“It’s better than not bad. Look, sit down again. Let’s replay this conversation and I’ll try not to be...”

“… overtly and undeservedly overprotective?” He sips again, holding my eyes with a steel-blue gaze,

but his lips are twitching.

“Alright, alright, I asked for that. What is it you want?”

He lets out a slow stream of air. “As I said, James, I want you to tell me about Georgie.”

“What about her? And why?”

“Why?” He cradles his glass. Stares into the fire. “Because I think she's lovely and lonely. And

somehow, lost…”

His words pierce me, but Borje is still speaking… “I’m not looking for a bit of casual fun with Georgie.”

He grins and clucks, flashing brows. “I have nothing against casual fun, but Georgie’s worth more than

that. And I want more than that with her.”

“Oh…”

“Yes. Oh. Now does that change things between us, James?”

“Um, yes. I suppose it does. I assumed...” My mouth dries up and I take shelter in my glass.

He sweeps a hand back through his hair, grimacing. “You assumed that I was taking advantage of

Georgie who, as I am sure you realise, under that veneer of temper, thorns and fake authority, is in fact,

quite vulnerable.”

My drink provides a few moments more shelter. “Yes. She is. Where is this going?”

His previous confidence seems to evaporate. Cupping his glass in both palms, his mouth working, he

stares into the fire.

“Borje, you came here to ask me about my daughter. So ask.”

He forms his words slowly, deliberately. “Alright… James, you and I met through the clubs…”

*Alarm bells ringing*

“I would really appreciate it if you don't make mention of your involvement with Charlotte to Georgie.”

Borje huffs and cracks a smile. “How stupid do you think I am?” Then, rubbing a finger over his

forehead, “James, you’re a Dom…”

What the hell’s this leading to…?

“…Whether we’re talking work or play, that’s your personality. It’s not just what you are. It’s who you

are.”

I cover my confusion with another sip. “Granted. So?”

“So, Georgie adores you, respects you. Has you on a pedestal. So far as I can tell, she always has

done. I suspect that’s why she took it so hard when you and her mother split up.” He gives me an

apologetic smile. “Hero to zero…”

My gut tightens… “Perhaps. Go on.”

He pauses, collecting his thoughts perhaps. “Despite that, the pair of you have now settled your

differences…”

“I agree. Borje, what’s your point?”

He raises a staying palm. “Bear with me, James. I’m getting there. Look, Georgie’s living in the hotel

next door. After over a year, she’s still there…”

“She doesn’t want to move back with her mother.”

“I agree. But that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t want a place of her own… I’m coming to the conclusion

that Georgie simply wants to be near you. And that she is trying to be… Believes she should be…

something she’s not.”

Something stirs inside me, a sick perception that there is something I’ve missed but which, perhaps,

Borje has fathomed. “I’m listening.”

He sets the drink aside, leans forward, elbows on knees, fingertips pressed together. “James, Georgie

sees her beloved father. She knows she looks like you. Everyone tells her she’s like you. She has

come to believe she should be like you. The fact is, I don’t believe the resemblance is much more than

skin deep. She does look like you, but her personality is very different.”

My stomach roils. “What exactly are you driving at?”

Borje speaks deliberately, enunciating each word. “I wonder James if, in effect, Georgie is a natural sub

who, because she's your daughter, believes she should be a Domme.”

Ah… Crap…

I don’t know how to answer.

My beautiful daughter…

With her strident personality…

Her inability to cope with friendships and life in general. Always trying to be in charge of the situation.

And never quite pulling it off.

Borje has the right of it.

Christ…

Borje watches me keenly. “James?”

“I… think you have something.” I palm the back of my neck, as though that would somehow lubricate

my thoughts. “It may be my fault. I always encouraged Georgie to be strong and independent. To go

her own way.”

“That’s very clear from what she’s telling me. But, thinking about it now… you know her so much better

than me… Do you think that was necessarily the best course?”

“She’s competent, intelligent. She handles herself well professionally.”

Borje’s expression turns slightly pitying. “I’m not talking about her professional performance. And you

well know. Do you know what she said to me about her personal life?”

I barely want to guess. Instead, I settle for silence, waiting for enlightenment.

“Georgie told me she’s, and I quote, ‘an emotional fuck-up and that’s why she always bombs her

relationships.’”

My jaw drops. Then flaps uselessly, nothing coming out.

My little girl. My beautiful little girl. The apple of my eye.

I could weep.

Did I do this?

Try to mould Georgie into something she’s not?

Borje hesitates, then, “I take it you agree with what I just said?”

“I… think I do, yes. Borje, is this just idle questioning, or did you have something more in mind?”

He sits back again, sucks at his cheeks. “Would you say that Georgie’s natural inclination is

submission? And I don’t mean in the sense of sexual fun and games. Or at least, not necessarily that

way.”

“I think… that… I’m not sure. You may be right.”

“Let me put it another way. Would you have any difficulty with my trying to find out?”

Do I?

“You’ll take it easy with her?”

Borje snorts. “C’mon, James. It’s me you’re talking to. Not some psycho like Kris or a wannabe

incompetent like Steve. When it comes down to it, I have no real interest in being a fulltime Dom. Not in

the ‘lifestyle’ sense, the way you live with Charlotte. But I wonder if it’s something that might bring out

the best in Georgie, learning to let go of the reins sometimes. Help her to enjoy life more.”

I chew over that, the implications. “Are you thinking of taking her to the clubs?”

“She’s not ready for anything close to that. I’d be sure to know her a lot better before I even considered

suggesting it.”

“In that, case, I have no objection to you trying…”

Oh, Jeez…

I never thought about it…

And I should have.

“Um… Borje, there’s something else I think you should know.”

“What’s that?”

“You mentioned Georgie having lived next door for some time. I’m guessing that she hasn’t told you

why she came here in the first place?”

His brow furrows. “I’d assumed it was over some dispute with your ex?”

“No… Or at least, not entirely.”

Borje waits. And waits. After a long pause, he tilts his head. “James?” This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

My words tumble out. “Last year, Georgie was abducted. She was assaulted and was almost gang-

raped. We rescued her only just in time.”

His jaw drops. “What?” He rockets upright from his seat. “Christ! Thank God I’ve been taking it slowly

with her.” He paces back and forth. “Christ… Christ... Christ…”

“Borje, sit down again. Calm down. Let me top up your drink.”

His hand is shaky as he offers his glass. “Thank you.”

Ignoring the protest from my leg, I haul myself upright, pour a finger of malt into Borje’s tumbler. Then I

add another before pressing it into his hand. Refilling my own glass, I reclaim my armchair, waiting for

Borje to recover his composure.