Page 117 of Girl in the Water

“You almost fooled me.” The words snapped with hard clicks, like armor snapping into place.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but it never seemed like the right time. But I’m right here, right now, telling you the truth.”

He half turned from her. He had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was no longer listening. “I can’t do this,” he said at last. “It’s too much for me. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine having sex with someone who…”

He didn’t finish.

And then he was walking out, without saying good-bye, without saying anything else.

Daniela curled up into as tiny a ball as she could manage. The old numbness came back. She felt as violated as when that first logger had come up to the bamboo hut and pushed her on her back.

She hadn’t expected Bobby to be happy about her past, but she hadn’t expected pure revulsion, not this much hate.

Ian had always accepted her, never made her feel dirty, never made her feel worthless or that she should hide anything about herself.

Of course, Ian didn’t want her either.

Bobby’s leaving didn’t make her cry, but that thought did. Because all this time, she’d been only pretending she didn’t care that Ian didn’t want her. And she wished she could keep on pretending, because once she began crying, she couldn’t stop.

In the morning, she had to spend an extra hour on her makeup to hide the redness and swelling around her eyes.

When she walked into the office, hoping against hope that she could avoid Bobby, the first thing she saw was a note on her desk. “Please see Lucy in HR.”

So Daniela went, a sick feeling spreading in her stomach.

Lucy was waiting for her. The grandmotherly Korean-American woman ushered her to a chair. “I’m afraid I have bad news for you. You know you were here on a probationary period, and I’m sorry, but decisions have been made, and this position will not be made permanent. Nothing that you did. They’re just not going to need as many people as they thought.”

Daniela nodded numbly. She didn’t fight for the job. It hadn’t been Lucy’s decision. Lucy didn’t even have to explain it, really. With at-will employment, any company could fire any employee without giving a reason.

Daniela went home, went to bed. Since she hadn’t slept all night, she passed out eventually. When she woke, the sky was dark outside.

She washed her face, went out, drove to the nearest bar, and ordered whiskey. Ian had told her once that oblivion lived in a bottle. Tonight, Daniela needed oblivion.

Men came up to her; she ignored them. When the bartender cut her off, she stumbled outside. She knew she shouldn’t drive, so she walked toward home, still remembering the horror and revulsion on Bobby’s face. When she saw a drunk a block over with a bottle in a paper bag, she bought the bottle off him for twenty bucks. To hell with the bartender.

The booze tasted pretty bad compared to the bar’s top-shelf whiskey. She thought it might be gin. She drank as she walked, barely feeling the chill in the air.

A car passed her. Backed up. Two guys who’d hit on her in the bar earlier grinned at her as the one on the passenger side rolled down his window. Blond, scrawny twenty-something. The other one could have been his twin, only bulkier in the chest and belly. In dress shirts with ties, they were office types, possibly even other lawyers.

“Hey, pretty thing, want a ride?”

“I don’t want anything.” But that wasn’t true. She wanted one thing, one man, had wanted him for years, but she couldn’t have him. She was still in love with Ian Slaney.

She was just drunk enough to admit it finally. Maybe she should have gotten wasted sooner. The whole fiasco with Bobby could have been avoided.

She looked at the men.

“A thousand dollars,” she said.

They glanced at each other. Laughed. The one on the passenger side said, “Okay, babe.”

She could have said five thousand. The amount wouldn’t have mattered. They would have agreed. They had no intention of paying, just taking her, using her, and dumping her on another dark corner.

But she wasn’t that Daniela anymore.

She might be drunk and heartbroken, but she was nobody’s victim, not ever again.

“A thousand dollars and I won’t kick your ass,” she said.