Just as I’m pressing the button to summon the elevator, I hear a familiar voice behind me.
“Hey, hold the doors!”
I turn around. It’s Greg. Again.
Goddammit.
I fight back the urge to just race off without him and force myself to keep the doors held for him. We both step inside the quiet of the elevator, and he quickly turns to me and lays a hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, sorry about last night,” he says, as I’m jabbing at the button for the ground floor.
“Don’t mention it,” I reply quietly.
“So,” he continues, “you bringing a date to the ball tomorrow night?”
“The what?” I say, turning to look at him.
“The charity ball,” he grins back. “The ball for the charityyou set up. You can’t possibly have forgotten that! You’re making the big speech.”
I groan inwardly –the ball.Of course.
Ihadforgotten, and as usual, Julia had probably been too busy surfing Facebook or whatever the hell it is she does all day at her desk to add it into my weekly schedule. Probably because it was arranged so damn long ago.
Why the hell did I ever agree to give aspeech, I think to myself with annoyance. But then I think again about the charity and know that it’s only right for me to represent it. If only it wasany other week ...
Just then the elevator reaches the ground floor, and by the time I step out into the lobby, I can already see my driver, Trent, waiting outside with the Bentley.
“Well, see you tomorrow, Buddy,” Greg says, punching me playfully on the arm before heading off towards the doors.
I hold back, pausing for a moment to look around me at the huge marble lobby, and then back at that gleaming car, waiting for me outside – polished to perfection, engine purring, driver waiting patiently for me to arrive – and marvel again that this is allmine, that I built this whole business up from scratch.
But even though it’s pretty damn impressive, it still leaves me feeling kind of ... hollow.
I shake off the feelings, focusing again on thatotherfeeling – the one that’s still burbling away, deep down in my stomach as I think about tonight – how I finally have a whole night withherahead of me.
I guess you could call it excitement. Excitement and happiness.
Damn.
Ireally doneed to get my feelings under control, don’t I?
Twenty-Two
Jennifer
Here I am,having a candlelit meal with Marcus, but for some reason I just can’t bring myself to enjoy it. I’ve spent the whole of today feeling so out of sorts. This morning, for instance, I wandered around this huge house, and explored the grounds too – the private swimming pool, the tennis courts, the acres of bright green sculpted gardens – but I just couldn’t relax, no matter what I did, and ended up spending practically the whole afternoon holed up in my room again instead.
It’s like there’s this brick, sitting there at the pit of my stomach – this horrible heaviness, weighing me down, pinning me in place, as I think all over again just what I’ve done, and what I’ve lost – somethingnoamount of money can ever bring back ...
My virginity.
“Are you okay, Jennifer?” Marcus asks, looking up at me from across the table.
And I know in that moment that I just can’t hide it anymore. I need to say this, even if it costs me everything.
“No, I’m not,” I reply. “I ...”
I pause.
