“What’s that?” she asked.
“This.” I held up one of the packages. “Here we are in Stockholm, and our crackers are a brand from the U.S.”
Our appetites took over, and the two of us stayed quiet while we consumed the tomato soup. As promised, the sandwiches were brought out soon after the soup. Taylor was a fast eater and was already two bites into her sandwich by the time I was ready to start on mine.
I kind of felt like she was pissed off about something. I decided to poke around a little while I ate at my pace.
“Your mood and emotions are holding you back,” I said, then nonchalantly reached for my glass.
With her eyebrow arched, Taylor stared at me. She kept her eyes on me as she continued to chew. I leaned back in the chair as if I had all the time in the world.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your mood. You wear your emotions on your sleeve, and that’s why Michael hasn’t promoted you.”
“What makes you think that, let alone, say it?”
“You’ve been mad ever since I made Holly moan louder than you did.” I took a bite of my sandwich and watched her while I chewed.
“Seriously?”
“Mhmm. You wanted so badly to win, and when you didn’t, you were pissed off. Not only did you lose, but you lost to me. That pissed you off even more, and you’ve been stewing over it ever since the flight.”
“You’re something else.”
“I am,” I agreed. “Here’s the thing, though. I think you’re jealous.”
“Jealous? Of you?”
“Yes. But I also think you were jealous of Holly.”
“You have the oddest path of thoughts of anyone I know. Maybe it’s all the Tic-Tac consumption. Why would I be jealous of Holly?”
“Because I made her moan like that. When was the last time you moaned like that?” She rolled her eyes again. “My guess is that none of your girlfriends have ever made you moan.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Taylor’s tone was firm and hinted at me touching on a sore spot.
“Maybe not because they didn’t try. But I think you’re unable to let anyone take control in the bedroom. You’re unable to let someone make you feel something you can’t control. You’re scared.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said again.
“I disagree. You should drop the tough girl role once in a while and let some guy make you feel good.”
“Yeah?” Taylor glared at me with cold, distant eyes. “You think I should give up control to some man and lethimtake over?” Her question came out sarcastic, almost as if she couldn’t believe what I was suggesting. Her eyes suddenly looked glassy as she glared at me. She shook her head and then bumped her hand against her plate, which pushed it against her glass and caused them to clang loudly.
I had hit a very sensitive subject with her, because up until that point, Taylor’s movements to eat or drink were very precise. But now she was rattled, bumping things on the table clumsily.
“Letting a man fuck the hell out of you is just what you could use every now and then.”
“Well, all men are assholes.”
“All?”
“Yes. All.”
Who hurt you and left such a bitter taste in your mouth?
“Even Michael?” I asked.
