Chapter Twenty-Six. The End

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 

Emily reviewed the text messages from Jess. One by one they came in. Emily didn't have to reply. They were a running commentary on the discussion taking place between Scott and Jessica.

Brilliant Jess, thought Emily, who acknowledged to herself she would never be able to negotiate all this. Rule one . . . agreed . . . tick the box. A few minutes later, Rule two had come in by text . . . tick the box. A methodical discussion, like a business meeting, in progress between Jess and Scott. And Emily knew she couldn't have done this for several reasons. For a start, Emily felt too weak to have got through the emotional barrier, the anger, the hurt, the humiliation caused by Scott. She would have burst into tears. Neither did Emily have much idea of the 'rules' of playing this type of sex and she wondered how Jessica knew these things.

A text from Jess came in. 'Rule three. When in this role, I'll call you Master and you will call me Darling. He's agreed.' Emily read it again and she giggled.

Further texts popped up and it became a weird form of fun to know Scott thought he was talking to Emily, all strong and purposeful, while the real Emily sat in her hotel room.

Then the last text read, 'He's hot. Could easily f*ck him. Waiting for a cab to bring me back.'

-O-

Scott watched the cab drive away. When he had returned home from work, he had thought Emily had been at home all day. It was only when she said, 'I'm booked in for a night at a hotel and I'll be back tomorrow', that Scott realised Emily wasn't going to spend the night with him. She needed space was what she said.

He went back inside the house and read the Rules again. There remained a feeling that Emily had approached his problem with a detached outlook, as if she had got over the way she had been treated and now it was down to business. It all made sense and Scott was grateful. The Rules. Scott wondered where Emily had got that information, carefully thought out and delivered to Scott in a no-nonsense way.

He cleared away the two wine glasses and the empty bottle. The house was quiet without Emily and it occurred to him to find out where she was staying, and to suggest he take her out to dinner. He wondered which hotel Emily would choose to stay the night.

He finished washing the glasses and concluded Emily may have chosen the Mandarin. He found the phone number, and made a call to Reception. 'My name's Scott and I'm enquiring if a friend has booked in for the night. Her name is Emily Gibson.'

The receptionist looked for the name, and said, 'yes sir. She arrived at 2.30 this afternoon with a friend.'

Scott thought he had misheard but couldn't think what to say as he tried to make sense of this.

'Shall I transfer you to their room, sir?'

Their room, he almost said. Not a separate room?

'Her friend,' he said, 'did . . . ' He hesitated, not sure whether to say he or she.

'Jessica Davey. We all thought they were twins. Incredible likeness. They even talk the same. Shall I transfer your call?'

'Umm, no thanks. Thank you.' He stood still and looked at the sofa where Emily had sat. As if in a trance, Scott went to sit in the chair he had occupied. Okay, he thought, I know where Emily is staying. Who is this girl who looks like her twin? And talks like Emily. A ridiculous notion went through Scott's head . . . suppose Emily just now wasn't Emily? He thought about that and went over the conversation between them. Were there any clues, he wondered?

She had said, Emily doesn't mind a playful submiss ive role . . . by Emily I mean me. Scott repeated to himself, Emily doesn't mind it, but Emily wouldn't normally refer to herself like that. 

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