orange a moment before dying out. “I got no business calling him.”
“I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”
“He don’t want to talk to me. Trust me.”
“Which is why you should call him,” Ethan said with a sigh. “So eventually he will want to talk to you, so he knows you care.”
“It don’t work like that. And besides, my brother would never give him the phone.” Marie’s voice was hard.
“So you still haven’t contacted anybody?” Ethan watched her face carefully. “No family, no friends, nobody from Albuquerque?”
“Nope.”
“So nobody knows where you are?”
“They can all go fuck themselves.” She fingered her necklace. It was a silver amulet on a black leather string. She’d told him last week that it was the only thing she’d brought with her from New Mexico, other than the clothes on her back. Something to ward off evil spirits. It glinted in the dim light of the alley.
Ethan nodded, satisfied.
Marie crushed her cigarette out with her running shoe. She stepped closer to him, tracing one skinny, nicotine-stained finger down the front of his shirt. “So, listen.” Her voice was suddenly husky. “I could use another twenty.”
Her breath was foul from poor hygiene and too many cigarettes. Ethan moved away. “My girlfriend’s inside.”
“So what? For forty I’ll let you do that thing you like, only this time don’t squeeze so—”
“Not tonight.”
“Since when?” Marie sighed and her voice returned to normal. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”
“Some other time.” Ethan glanced down the alley.
“When? When are—”
A voice interrupted them. “Ethan? You there?”
It was Abby. Ethan could make out the shape of her head peeking around the corner of the building and into the alleyway.
“I’m here,” he called out.
“We need you back inside, babe. We can’t get the dishwasher working and we could use your magic hands.”
“Be right there.” Abby’s head disappeared and Ethan turned his attention back to Marie. “Sunday. Meet me here, late. Midnight. But don’t tell anyone—nobody—or you don’t get paid.”
“Midnight? For another twenty bucks?”
“A hundred.”
Marie’s eyes narrowed and she fished into her pocket for another cigarette. “A hundred for what?”
“You’ll find out next Sunday.” He looked at her hard in the dim light. “You don’t show, we’re done. I’ll find someone else for my case study.”
He started walking back down the alley toward the entrance of the shelter, leaving Marie standing alone. He heard the flick of her lighter somewhere behind him.
Enjoy the cigarettes, darling. There are only so many left in your future.
CHAPTER : 7
H er skirt was too tight.
Sheila could feel the waistband cutting into her stomach, but there was nothing she could do about it now except suck it in and act natural. Two hundred pairs of eyes were on her, and they were unforgiving. They caught every mistake, every stumble, every inconsistency.
Especially Ethan, whose gaze was unwavering from the front row. The picture he’d sent her flashed through her mind for the umpteenth time.
Pacing the lecture hall slowly, she forced herself to focus. The small mike pinned to her silk blouse picked up every word with perfect clarity and transmitted it to the speakers overhead. She looked up at the rows of expectant faces watching her in the auditorium, organizing her thoughts before speaking.
“I want you all to think about your own relationships, the people in your own lives. Your parents, for instance. How alike are they to each other? If you have brothers and sisters, which ones are you closest to, and why? And your friends. Why are they your friends? Is it because you have similar interests? Similar ways of thinking? Similar patterns of behavior?
“Or do you enjoy being around people who are different from you? If you’re an introvert, do you gravitate toward peoplewho are outgoing? Chatty? Social? If
“I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”
“He don’t want to talk to me. Trust me.”
“Which is why you should call him,” Ethan said with a sigh. “So eventually he will want to talk to you, so he knows you care.”
“It don’t work like that. And besides, my brother would never give him the phone.” Marie’s voice was hard.
“So you still haven’t contacted anybody?” Ethan watched her face carefully. “No family, no friends, nobody from Albuquerque?”
“Nope.”
“So nobody knows where you are?”
“They can all go fuck themselves.” She fingered her necklace. It was a silver amulet on a black leather string. She’d told him last week that it was the only thing she’d brought with her from New Mexico, other than the clothes on her back. Something to ward off evil spirits. It glinted in the dim light of the alley.
Ethan nodded, satisfied.
Marie crushed her cigarette out with her running shoe. She stepped closer to him, tracing one skinny, nicotine-stained finger down the front of his shirt. “So, listen.” Her voice was suddenly husky. “I could use another twenty.”
Her breath was foul from poor hygiene and too many cigarettes. Ethan moved away. “My girlfriend’s inside.”
“So what? For forty I’ll let you do that thing you like, only this time don’t squeeze so—”
“Not tonight.”
“Since when?” Marie sighed and her voice returned to normal. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”
“Some other time.” Ethan glanced down the alley.
“When? When are—”
A voice interrupted them. “Ethan? You there?”
It was Abby. Ethan could make out the shape of her head peeking around the corner of the building and into the alleyway.
“I’m here,” he called out.
“We need you back inside, babe. We can’t get the dishwasher working and we could use your magic hands.”
“Be right there.” Abby’s head disappeared and Ethan turned his attention back to Marie. “Sunday. Meet me here, late. Midnight. But don’t tell anyone—nobody—or you don’t get paid.”
“Midnight? For another twenty bucks?”
“A hundred.”
Marie’s eyes narrowed and she fished into her pocket for another cigarette. “A hundred for what?”
“You’ll find out next Sunday.” He looked at her hard in the dim light. “You don’t show, we’re done. I’ll find someone else for my case study.”
He started walking back down the alley toward the entrance of the shelter, leaving Marie standing alone. He heard the flick of her lighter somewhere behind him.
Enjoy the cigarettes, darling. There are only so many left in your future.
CHAPTER : 7
H er skirt was too tight.
Sheila could feel the waistband cutting into her stomach, but there was nothing she could do about it now except suck it in and act natural. Two hundred pairs of eyes were on her, and they were unforgiving. They caught every mistake, every stumble, every inconsistency.
Especially Ethan, whose gaze was unwavering from the front row. The picture he’d sent her flashed through her mind for the umpteenth time.
Pacing the lecture hall slowly, she forced herself to focus. The small mike pinned to her silk blouse picked up every word with perfect clarity and transmitted it to the speakers overhead. She looked up at the rows of expectant faces watching her in the auditorium, organizing her thoughts before speaking.
“I want you all to think about your own relationships, the people in your own lives. Your parents, for instance. How alike are they to each other? If you have brothers and sisters, which ones are you closest to, and why? And your friends. Why are they your friends? Is it because you have similar interests? Similar ways of thinking? Similar patterns of behavior?
“Or do you enjoy being around people who are different from you? If you’re an introvert, do you gravitate toward peoplewho are outgoing? Chatty? Social? If
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