I should be lying down so you can…can screw me for as long as you want to, and that I should be fine with that, because I don’t deserve anything more.”
“Hope. Stop. Right now.” His face wasn’t impassive anymore. It was thunderous. “You’re going too far.”
“No.” I was trembling, but it didn’t matter. “ You are. You’re the one who needs to stop. You got me hired to do a job under false pretenses. Stupid me, I thought somebody wanted me for my brains. For my work ethic. For my ability. All right, yes, I was stupid. I’ll own that. I should’ve known better than to think you’d really want me for anything but sex. I should’ve known better than to come out with you tonight, too. Not like you didn’t make it clear what this was about. I should’ve left a half hour ago, but I didn’t, because I was too attracted to you. I own that, too. But that doesn’t make you right. And it doesn’t make my position any better, or make you any less wrong for putting me into it.”
“I told you,” he said, his entire face set, grim. Dangerous. “That you could say no and keep your job. I don’t break my word.”
Time to face it. Exactly where I was. “Except for one thing. That I’m working for somebody who wouldn’t have hired me if you hadn’t told her to. Which leaves me two choices, doesn’t it? I can try to hang on and know I probably won’t be able to, or I can let you make her keep me on and know I’m there at your whim. And what I want to know is, why? Don’t you get how close to the edge I am? I had a job. It was a lousy one, but at least I wasn’t going to lose it. At least I could pay my bills. I quit it and took this job in good faith, and I need it to survive. I need it for my sister to survive. You really care that little if you wreck somebody’s life? If you’ve got anything at all in you except what you want to do to me, except how you want to use me—at least see that. At least see what you’ve done.”
My voice had risen, was shaking hard by the time I’d finished. The waiter, I realized with horror, was outside the door, then retreating down the stairs, and Hemi was standing there immobile, his face betraying nothing.
Because I was right. He didn’t care about me. He didn’t care what I said, or how I felt. And I was wasting my time.
I wrenched off the beautiful shoes, one at a time, and left them on the floor. “Keep your shoes,” I told him. “I am not for sale. And I’m sure as hell not for rent.”
I had my coat on, and I was down the stairs, rushing through the restaurant, hitting the street, and running for the subway as fast as I could in my bare feet.
It hurt. Of course it did. It bruised, and it burned. But my heart and my pride hurt more.
Plus, I hadn’t even gotten to eat any salmon.
An Unexpected Source
When Hope had pulled off her shoes and run down the stairs, I’d wanted to go after her, throw her over my shoulder, carry her to my car, and make her listen. Make her talk. Make her stay until we could work it out. By which, yes, I probably meant, “until she saw it my way.”
And after that…well. After that, I had a list.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t do any of it, because this wasn’t the New Zealand bush, it wasn’t three hundred years ago, and she wasn’t mine.
There was that other uncomfortable thing as well. That I’d made her cry. That I’d hurt her and made her feel small.
It was the last thing I’d wanted. I didn’t want to ruin her life. I wanted to make it better. Instead, I’d done just the opposite. I’d stuffed up, in fact, about as thoroughly as a man could. It wasn’t a feeling I was used to, and I wasn’t enjoying it.
I rang Eugene on the drive back to the house. It took him four long rings to pick up, and I nearly rang off. I didn’t ask for advice. Ever. What was I doing?
“You know I don’t work on Sunday night,” were the first words out of his mouth. “I got grandkids. Family time,
“Hope. Stop. Right now.” His face wasn’t impassive anymore. It was thunderous. “You’re going too far.”
“No.” I was trembling, but it didn’t matter. “ You are. You’re the one who needs to stop. You got me hired to do a job under false pretenses. Stupid me, I thought somebody wanted me for my brains. For my work ethic. For my ability. All right, yes, I was stupid. I’ll own that. I should’ve known better than to think you’d really want me for anything but sex. I should’ve known better than to come out with you tonight, too. Not like you didn’t make it clear what this was about. I should’ve left a half hour ago, but I didn’t, because I was too attracted to you. I own that, too. But that doesn’t make you right. And it doesn’t make my position any better, or make you any less wrong for putting me into it.”
“I told you,” he said, his entire face set, grim. Dangerous. “That you could say no and keep your job. I don’t break my word.”
Time to face it. Exactly where I was. “Except for one thing. That I’m working for somebody who wouldn’t have hired me if you hadn’t told her to. Which leaves me two choices, doesn’t it? I can try to hang on and know I probably won’t be able to, or I can let you make her keep me on and know I’m there at your whim. And what I want to know is, why? Don’t you get how close to the edge I am? I had a job. It was a lousy one, but at least I wasn’t going to lose it. At least I could pay my bills. I quit it and took this job in good faith, and I need it to survive. I need it for my sister to survive. You really care that little if you wreck somebody’s life? If you’ve got anything at all in you except what you want to do to me, except how you want to use me—at least see that. At least see what you’ve done.”
My voice had risen, was shaking hard by the time I’d finished. The waiter, I realized with horror, was outside the door, then retreating down the stairs, and Hemi was standing there immobile, his face betraying nothing.
Because I was right. He didn’t care about me. He didn’t care what I said, or how I felt. And I was wasting my time.
I wrenched off the beautiful shoes, one at a time, and left them on the floor. “Keep your shoes,” I told him. “I am not for sale. And I’m sure as hell not for rent.”
I had my coat on, and I was down the stairs, rushing through the restaurant, hitting the street, and running for the subway as fast as I could in my bare feet.
It hurt. Of course it did. It bruised, and it burned. But my heart and my pride hurt more.
Plus, I hadn’t even gotten to eat any salmon.
An Unexpected Source
When Hope had pulled off her shoes and run down the stairs, I’d wanted to go after her, throw her over my shoulder, carry her to my car, and make her listen. Make her talk. Make her stay until we could work it out. By which, yes, I probably meant, “until she saw it my way.”
And after that…well. After that, I had a list.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t do any of it, because this wasn’t the New Zealand bush, it wasn’t three hundred years ago, and she wasn’t mine.
There was that other uncomfortable thing as well. That I’d made her cry. That I’d hurt her and made her feel small.
It was the last thing I’d wanted. I didn’t want to ruin her life. I wanted to make it better. Instead, I’d done just the opposite. I’d stuffed up, in fact, about as thoroughly as a man could. It wasn’t a feeling I was used to, and I wasn’t enjoying it.
I rang Eugene on the drive back to the house. It took him four long rings to pick up, and I nearly rang off. I didn’t ask for advice. Ever. What was I doing?
“You know I don’t work on Sunday night,” were the first words out of his mouth. “I got grandkids. Family time,
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