“Call that an apology?”
“I’m sorry, your highness.”
“Job. She worked as a PA or something.”
A PA to one of the wealthiest men in the country. Her family must be connected for her to fall into that position. Not only that, but she forgets her card at the service station, and he jumps to bail her out.
My dad’s wealth suddenly feels like poverty. My job with Stefan nothing more than a tacky pretence.
Still, my mind can’t help but pick away at the knowledge as I drive home. For someone with the world at her feet, Em’s face sure didn’t get the memo.
CHAPTERFOUR
EM
I stare at the floor as I trail Wilbur into the house. Framed photographs line the entranceway. Wilbur in stiff poses with a collection of rich men. No pictures of friends and he doesn’t have a family. Just a line-up documenting every influencer in the business world.
The hard tiles of the double height lobby shine, buffed to perfection. My shoes will be trekking whatever foul garbage I’ve stepped in during my walk to and from the mall, but I don’t turn to see if I’m leaving a trail.
If I am, that’s somebody else’s problem. I’m not paid to care.
“You want to grab a bite to eat?”
“No, thanks.” My stomach is pinched so tight I doubt it will let me do anything but swallow the saliva in my mouth and even that seems fifty-fifty. Liquid diet only for this girl. “I’m good.”
“Come here.” He tugs at my wrist to pull me against him for a hug. His arms around my back and shoulders are nice. I close my eyes and lean my head against his chest.
When he’s like this, visiting seems easy. Even though I know what’s coming, I can almost forgive him when he holds me. Talks to me. Asks me about school and how my mates are doing. Paying attention to my answers like he cares. Like he’s a friend.
I can almost ignore the way he grows hard against my hip as he envelops me in a hug. Overlook his right hand running up the back of my thigh, easing under the hem of my skirt.
He sniffs then sniffs again and gently disentangles himself while my shame levels creep up the scale. “You need a shower. I’ll be in the lounge when you’re finished. Wine?”
“Yes, thanks.” I move past him, getting most of the way along the east hallway before I lose the battle and glance over my shoulder. He’s still standing in the lobby, staring after me. Staring at me walk.
I jerk my eyes back in front of me, colour rising in my cheeks as I open the door, close it, turn the lock. Leaning back against it, I concentrate on my breathing. It always gets too fast when I’m in this place. My pulse rate has jumped through the roof. If it doesn’t come down again soon, I’ll end the day with a headache on top of my other woes.
This is easy. You’ve done it a hundred times before.
When I repeat it for the fifth time, the mantra works.
The shower in here is luxurious. The glass walled enclosure is about three times the size of the one I use at the community gym. Space enough to twist and turn any way I want. The showerhead is detachable and there are two rows of additional sprays at six-inch intervals along the fixture, ensuring that every part of me gets washed clean without having to move.
As the water flows over my body, I relax into the spray. Calling him was so easy after all that worrying. Easy, even though I know how it ends.
The abuse is like a groove in my head. Every time I visit, the needle wears deeper. After a point, it’s hard to think in any other pattern. No matter how I start, my brain redirects my thoughts to the same track.
Giving in is its own relief. Snapping me back to the familiar, the well-trodden, the known.
Even though he’s waiting, I shampoo my hair twice, then condition it. He’s switched body wash to a new brand, with citrus instead of floral notes, and I appreciate the change. It makes my skin zing.
I could stay in here for hours.
The sooner I leave though, the sooner I can get out of here. I turn off the water with reluctance, then pull two of the enormous, fluffy bath towels off the rack. One for my hair, one for my body.
Wilbur knocks on the door while I’m still halfway through drying. “Did you fall asleep in there?”
I click off the lock and pull the door ajar. “Nearly finished. I just need to dry my hair.”
