"Yeah." I nod. "What about it?"
"You put that you're anaccountant." Madyson says the word like it's vile, complete with a disgusted nose wrinkle. I mean, it's not the world's most glamorous job, but it's notthatbad.
"Eh, it's a living."
"Um, Ophelia, here on ClikClak, when people say they're an accountant, they actually mean they're a sex worker. Like a prostitute or they run an internet porn site or they—"
Owen starts bellowing, "That's enough! We get it. I don't know what all this other shit is about, but I can say that my sister is actually an accountant. An accountant-accountant. She's done my parents' taxes before."
Georgia, who's had to have had at least two bottles of wine by now, looks up through slightly crossing eyes. "Are you sure though? I mean, look at her. Look at him. One of these things is not like the other."
Xavier's face is like steel. He puts his hands on my shoulders and says, "Thank you very much for your hospitality, but the way you treat Ophelia is frankly shocking. It's clear you neither know nor appreciate who she is. No, we're not like each other, but that doesn't matter. She's amazing and beautiful, inside and out, and I'm lucky to be her husband."
His defense of me gives me the strength to finally move. Without a word, I storm up the stairs and hastily throw everything I have into my bag. Approximately sixty seconds later, I'm stomping back down the stairs and out the front door without a word to anyone in there.
I get in my car but can't actually leave because there are two cars behind me. So I sit in the driver's seat, fuming.
Owen's client and his wife come out and look at the car at the end of the driveway. I stare straight ahead, unwilling to make eye contact with anyone. A moment later, Xavier walks out carrying his bag. I watch in the rearview mirror as the mortified client leaves. Good. As soon as Xavier moves, I can finally get the hell out of here. I hit reverse and am about to peel out when I realize Xavier's hasn't gone anywhere. I slam the car into park and get out.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? Get out of my way or I'll drive right into your car. I need to go. Now," I bellow.
"Ophelia, calm down. I can't let you go. Not like this." Xavier approaches swiftly, and before I know it, he's enveloped me in his arms. "I've got you, chickadee. You're safe with me, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Chapter 40: Xavier
I want to bash all their faces in. Maybe not Aiden who tried to calm everyone down, because he seems like an alright bloke, but definitely everyone else. I want to hug Ophelia and kiss her hurt away. Then I want to bash some more.
How dare those twats attack her like that? They wouldn't even let her get a word in edgewise, jumping to conclusions and taking every opportunity to insult her. No wonder she dated wankers like Trent and losers from ClikClak.
I'll never, as long as I live, forget the look on her face when they started saying all thosethingsabout her.
"Even though I did marry you without knowing you, and there may have been talk of financial compensation, that's not why I married you. It's definitely not why I slept with you. I'm not that kind of girl."
"I know," I murmur into her hair. "I've seen your desk. I've seen your spreadsheets. I know you're an accountant. An actual one, not a euphemistic one. You're not hiding your profession from anyone."
Ophelia makes a strangled sound, a cross between a whimper and a cry.
"Ssshh," I say again. "I've got you. I'm here for you. Let me help you."
She pulls back, looking up at me. Her eyes are wide and wet with tears. "Why? Why would you help me? Can't you see what a disaster I am? Can't you tell I make a mess of everything?"
I give her a small smile. "No, you're perfect the way you are. Don't you see that?"
It hits me like a ton of bricks that I mean every single word.
"Go ask the mob in there if I'm perfect, and they'll give you a list a mile long of all the ways I've screwed up in my life."
"Ophelia, this entire situation is a bin fire. You had nothing to do with that. It's not your fault, and I'm sorry your family can't see. I'm sorry they didn't even give you the decency of hearing you out."
Seriously, they're a bloody bunch of wankers, the right lot of them.
All I want to do is make her hurt go away. Brush those harsh words off her like crumbs. Wrap her in my arms and protect her.
I could do that.
I should do that.
I do that.
