And I was still standing, in platforms, with great hair.
I swallowed.
“And those other girls bully the homely girl for one reasononly.They’re bitches.And that says afuckuvalotmore about them than that homely girl, and not one single bit of it is good.”
My fingers tensed reflexively into his thigh.
“You’re right, sugar,” I whispered.
“I know,” he returned.“As for you, why would a rich womanin a graceful mansion give the girl you thought you were the time of day?”
I felt the sting before I knew what was happening, and Iblinked rapidly to keep them at bay.
Marcus didn’t wait for me to answer.
He gave mehisanswer.
“Because she was old enough and lived enough life withenough abundance in that life to see you for what you were.Not a beautifulgirl who would become a beautiful woman.Not a sweet girl who was strong andsmart who would become so much more than her mother, it’s laughable.Not a boldwoman a weak man has to beat down to make him feel strong.Or fuck around onbefore she realizes she could do better and scrapes him off.No, she saw all ofthat, just without the bad shit leaking in.”
I was now breathing deep along with blinking a lot in orderto stop myself from losing it.
But even though Marcus saw it—I knew he even had to feelit—he was still far from done.
“I bet if you went back to that place, all those peoplewould still be in it, living lives they hate.And you’d sweep through lookinglike a movie star and they’d take one look at you and know they had every rightto be jealous of you.To hate you.To beat you.Talk about you.Cheat on you.And they’re so entrenched in their bitterness because they only have themselvesto blame that they didn’t make their lives better, the only regret they’d haveis that they hadn’t been able to drag you right down to where they are, smotheryour light, make you go dark.”
His fingers peeled mine from his thigh and curled aroundtight, holding my hand right there.
And he kept going.
“Miss Annamae didn’t give you those pearls because shethought for a second they’d get close to beating you down.She gave you thosepearls because she knew without a doubt they never would.”
“Please stop talking,” I whispered, seeing as he’d gone allfuzzy because my eyes were trembling with tears and I could take not one littlebit more.
For a second, he didn’t say anything and he didn’t move.
Then he lifted my hand and touched his lips to my fingers.He put it right back, curling them around his thigh again, and he looked to hisbourbon.
He raised his glass and took a sip.
I drew in a shaky breath.
Then I removed my hand from his thigh and reached for my owndrink.
After I’d thrown back a slightly unladylike sip, I returnedthe glass to the table and my attention with it.
“Daisy.”
“Please,please,” I was still whispering, this timeto my glass, “I can’t take more of your sweet.”
“Baby, you need to move your glass.Your appetizer is here.”
My head came up.
The waiter smiled benignly at me.
I moved my glass.
Marcus moved his arm to around my back and pulled me to hisside so I was tucked close.
