This is going to go terribly; I just know it.
Because being myself—being blatantlyhonest—always does.
Chapter 11
?
My life is over, actually.
Damion
She finds me repulsive.
Mirabelle Peters finds me repulsive.
Why did she take this job if she can’t stand me? Maybe the pay and perks were too good to pass up? I did specifically intend to make them too good to pass up, but if she refuses to put on a show so boring that the media gives up on covering us just because it’s dishonest, I have a feeling her moral code wouldn’t let her take a job for someone she hates just because of the money.
Sighing deeply, I drop my head into my hand and keep writing in my journal.
She finds me repulsive.
Which part?
How can I fix it?
Can I fix it?
Or is it something innate to my being, something I can’t hope to remove while stayingme?
If she doesn’t likeme, what’s the point of staying that way?
Curses hiss through my brain as I read the words I’m writing, and my throat threatens to close. I whisper a swear and cover my eyes, so I won’t cry.
This…hurts.
I need to fix it.
But I don’t know how.
And what if I just make things worse again?
Growing up as the only son at the end of a long generation of wealth, I am not used to feeling this utterly helpless. I am used to making moves that shift entire continents. Yet, the longer I sit here scrawling away in my journal, the more helpless I feel.
Flipping the pages closed, I rise, scrub a hand down my face, and collect myself.
I either fix thisnow, or I add gas to the flames until only ashes remain.
With that resolve in my chest, I clench my fist and march from my office, out the back door.
Halfway between my house and the guest quarters I had rebuilt and refurbished this summer, Mirabelle meets me.
Halting beside the pool, I stare at her, at the way the dying sky light dances across her skin, at the way she shivers when an October breeze teases her hair, at the worried glint of borderline terror in her eyes.
It becomes nearly impossible to swallow.
“Mr. Anders…” she says, voice so soft.
“Peters,” I whisper.
