The meeting went as expected, except this time, when the arguments started, I squashed them by taking control and becoming the majority vote. I could feel their dislike of me grow, especially when Big Bismo interrupted, passing around a contract we were all required to sign.
My face heated when I read over the updated rules. It basically stated that we were only allowed so much skin, and nothing sheer, especially when it came to breasts. Length was mentioned, too, but that had nothing to do with me. The dress had been plenty long enough. Maybe they were just covering all bases.
Whispers that sounded like hisses started up right away as we all signed. I quickly scribbled my name and handed Big Bismo my contract. I didn’t want to stay and listen to them. They never said it to my face. They whispered it to one another right in front of me.
“Come with me, Midnight Rose,” he said, handing my paper to his assistant.
I followed him through Club D and out the back doors. We started walking toward the gardens.
“Am I gardening today?” The sun was bright, and I narrowed my eyes against the glare.
Even though I’d taken a tour of the gardens once or twice, I didn’t particularly like walking them. They were extensive, like a maze, and I wasn’t in the mood to get lost.
He said nothing to me as we made our way deeper into the property. After the lake, the grounds opened to a stretch of land that was broken down into sections by gardens that could have been found in Italy or France. Elaborate statues posed in forests of Italian cypresses. Water nymphs danced in fountains where birds sang. A statue of a woman bathing naked in a man-made waterfall was hidden not far from a river god.
This went on and on, for…I had no clue how long. If I were to guess, we were somewhere in the middle by the time we cut around a thicket of shrubs and came to a secluded area. A statue of a woman looking melancholy was partially hidden in thick ivy. A stone wall was built behind her. A lone bench made from the same stone had been placed in the middle. Beams of light from the sun broke around the surrounding trees, highlighting the lonesome scene, and the man sitting on the bench.
Ben stood when we approached, straightening his tie, smiling at me.
My eyes narrowed even more at him, and then at Big Bismo as he turned and left me alone with him.
“What are you doing here?” I wasn’t afraid of him, but I would’ve been lying if I said he didn’t unnerve me. I knew what his deal was, and it was a solid no for me, but I had a feeling he was going to push it.
“I wanted to spend some time with you,” he said.
“You could have called me.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“You didn’t answer.”
“Exactly,” I said. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I didn’t want to lead him on either. The faster we both came to the same conclusion, that this—whatever he felt was between us—wasn’t happening, the better.
“Are you in love with someone else?”
That question shocked me. I hadn’t expected him to ask and so bluntly.
“Would it matter if I was?”
“Depends,” he said.
When he didn’t go any further, I asked, “On?”
“Who it is.”
I spun the bracelet around my wrist, feeling anxious suddenly. “It doesn’t matter if I’m in love or not,” I said, “because I can honestly tell you I’m not in love with you.”
“You weren’t in love with my brother either,” he said.
I stopped spinning the bracelet and squeezed it. “I thought you didn’t know much about that.”
“I know that much. I also know what happens here. It’s no different than what happens in your culture. Arranged marriages are a thing. Both sides get something out of it.”
“What do I get out of it?” I said, suddenly feeling so bitter for Cilla’s situation that it burned like acid in the back of my throat.
“You get away from here, for starters,” he said. “If that’s not enough, you get me. A good life. I’m not my brother—”
