Page 17 of Worth Loving You

“He asked you to be his personal masseuse, right?”

“Like that’s any of your business.”

“Tell him no.”

“What do you care?”

“It’s my business to care, so tell him no.”

“Don’t worry, I have no intentions of being someone’s paid whore.”

He snorted, tapping his fingers on the edge of my folded table. “You think that’s what he wants you for? Please, get real.”

Gripping the strap of my bag, I cowered in the corner, wanting distance from him, as well. “If you knew what happened—”

“You think I don’t know what happened?”

“You…know?” I whispered, my brows arching, my shame deepening.

“I don’t know details, but I didn’t need a front row seat to know you didn’t last as long as the other lady this morning, so it couldn’t have been all that great.”

My heart sank, my stomach curdling. “Other…lady?”

“Yup. The one he spent the night with. You need a reality check, lady. Something might have happened in that room, but he is not seeking out someone like you for sex.”

“Someone…like me?”

He lifted a brow and looked over my body. Snorting, he shook his head and stared straight ahead. “A man like Milo Pampinella doesn’t need to pay anyone for sex. If he did, he would buy someone with a much better body than yours.”

I cringed, my chin bowing to my chest.

You’re fat, Chazzy. You’re ugly, you’re fat, and no one loves you. You are nothing but a hideous, worthless, sack of shit.

My heart breaking, tears burned my nose, welling in my eyes. Turning my head away, I looked at my blurred reflection in the brushed steel, seeing all the rounded curves and imperfections that had mocked me since I was a little girl.

The elevator stilled, the doors dinged, and slid open. My stomach cramping with sorrow, I followed Wyatt through the building, to the revolving glass doors in the lobby. He pulled out my ticket and handed it to the valet.

Neither of us spoke while the man darted off to fetch my vehicle. Several minutes later, Wyatt was shoving the table in the backseat, slamming the door while I slid behind the steering wheel. I pulled away from the curb, drove around the loop to the exit, and burst out crying.

Chapter 7

Chastity Monroe

Slowly traipsing around the corner, my sight fixated on the sidewalk, I was barely paying attention to where I was going. Wyatt’s words had haunted me all day long, my brain tricking me by meshing his voice with my stepfather’s.

So devastated after leaving Milo’s, I had been almost half an hour late to my next appointment because I had been forced to pull into a shopping center, park, and just cry.

The entire day, I had been off my game, not putting as much strength into my massages as usual. All my customers had complained, which only knocked my self-worth down even further.

I dug my keys out my bag, sniffling against the tears that had been flowing so freely today. It had been years since I let myself cry over this, but I couldn’t seem to stop them.

Not paying attention, I bumped into someone, grumbled an apology, and stepped around them.

“Wait just a minute,” Jennifer’s country drawl shouted, breaking through my fog. “Where in the heck do you think you’re goin’, sugar? I been dyin’ to talk to you all day about what happened this mornin’, don’t you dare think you’re just gonna walk right on by and not say nothin’.”

I lowered my head, rubbing the tip of my nose, the keys jangling in front of my face.

“Hey, hey. Chazz? What’s goin’ on, sugar?” she cooed, tugging on my elbow.