Page 23

Vivian

My bladder woke me up, and I rolled out of bed to tiptoe to the bathroom.

Except the door wasn’t in its usual spot.

That’s when I realized I was in Jeff’s room, wearing the black lingerie I’d put on last night while waiting for him, and the events of last night came flooding back.

I didn’t even want to use the jerk’s bathroom, but my need to go overruled my pride, and I slipped in and quietly closed the door before turning the light on.

I’d become used to his cruelty; hell, I’d even been turned on by it. But last night had been different. He’d been angry because he thought I was acting like we were on a date.

To be fair, I could see how from his point of view, it could have looked like that. Maybe I had overstepped. But he’d handled it like a complete asshole.

His only saving grace was he’d seemed remorseful and had apologized in his own way. I knew better than to think he’d actually verbalize an “I’m sorry.”

I guess for a hundred thousand dollars, he didn’t have to.

The electronic blinds were open when I went back into the bedroom, and Jeff was sitting up in bed, reading something on his phone.

“Good morning,” I said softly from the bathroom doorway. I wasn’t sure if I should climb back in bed or go to my room and was hoping for some direction from him.

He looked up and smiled. “Good morning.”

Okay, so much for that.

I pointed toward the hall. “I’ll just go to my room.”

His mouth turned down, like he was disappointed.

“You can stay if you want, but I understand if you’d rather be alone this morning.”

No, I didn’t want to be alone .

I wanted to snuggle up next to him and have him pet my hair and tell me I was pretty. Because I was fucked up in the head.

Textbook daddy issues.

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“You won’t bother me.” He threw back the comforter on my side and patted the mattress. “Come lie down.”

I didn’t have to be told twice and slid into bed, although I was careful to stay on my side. I still had no idea where things stood between us.

He didn’t let me. He reached over and pulled me into his arms. Once I was situated against his chest, he murmured, “That’s better,” and continued reading whatever was on his phone.

Meanwhile, butterflies felt they were going to take flight in my stomach.

****

Jeff

I wasn’t reading. I hadn’t been able to comprehend a word since she got out of bed, and I opened my phone to try and keep my mind occupied.

She’d come out of the bathroom and looked at me like she wasn’t sure if she was welcome back in bed, and that bothered me.

I’d pulled her to my side on instinct. She felt right in my arms, even if I wasn’t supposed to admit that. Even if I still hated myself a little for how shitty I’d treated her last night, I wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to feel good with her naked in my arms.

I glanced down. She was curled into me, soft and warm, with her hair brushing my collarbone.

I should’ve said something. Asked if she slept okay. If she was sore. If she hated me.

Instead, I just kept staring at my phone like it held the answer.

She was quiet, but I could feel the tension in her body, as if she was thinking about something. Debating.

She shifted once, and I thought she was going to speak, but she didn’t. Then she did it again, but still nothing.

Finally, the third time, she whispered, “Why were you so mad last night?”

I didn’t answer right away. Mostly because I wasn’t sure how to. Or maybe I did and didn’t want to say it out loud.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I walked in and saw everything, and it felt like… too much.”

She didn’t move. Just waited.

“It looked like something it wasn’t. Something it couldn’t be.”

She was quiet for a second. Then: “A date.”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t say anything else, but I could feel the question behind her silence.

I ran my hand through my hair. “I’ve had someone do that before. The whole fantasy. Candles, wine, lingerie, the works. It made it feel like something real.”

I paused before continuing, “She left me for someone with a trust fund. The funny thing was, I have one too. I just hadn’t told her because I wanted her to want me, not my money.”

Her breath caught slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I was twenty-one and dumb. I thought I’d found the real thing. Reality knocked me on my ass. That’s when I realized that most women are for sale to the highest bidder.”

She interjected. “Not all women.”

“The ones who like it rough don’t come free. And we’ve already established that’s how I like it.”

It wasn’t like she could argue. She was living proof that was true.

That old bitterness crept in, even now.

“So, yeah,” I said. “I don’t do ‘ambiance’. I don’t do pretend. If I’m paying for it, I want to be clear on what I’m paying for. Last night blurred that line too much.”

She didn’t say anything; just quietly lay there against me.

I should’ve let the conversation die, but I glanced at the phoenix tattoo on her wrist. The one I’d asked about the first night we met, but she wouldn’t elaborate on.

Knowing a little more of her story, I could piece together the significance, but I wanted to hear it from her.

My thumb drifted over the ink. “You told me this was a conversation for another time. How about now?”

****

Vivian

I remember he’d asked at the masquerade party, and I’d brushed him off. I didn’t normally share my story with people I knew, let alone strangers.

But he wasn’t a stranger anymore. Not really. And now he was asking again, and it felt different this time. Like he wasn’t just curious. Like he actually cared.

I looked at the ink on my wrist that I’d traced more times than I could count.

“I got it when I was seventeen. The day I’d saved up enough money to sign the lease on my first apartment.”

“How were you able to sign a contract at seventeen? Or get a tattoo?”

I shrugged. “I had a fake ID. And the places I frequented didn’t exactly scrutinize it.”

He nodded like he understood, although I didn’t see how he could. Our lives couldn’t be more different if we tried.

Still, his thumb traced over it again, slower this time, and he murmured, “My little phoenix. You are a survivor, that’s for sure.”

Maybe he understood more than I gave him credit for.