Page 23 of Ruining Hattie
BASTION
W hen I walk through the threshold to my office, I find Steph with her arms crossed and standing over Hattie, scowling at her. Hattie seems as though she’s in the middle of explaining her role here.
“She’s my assistant, Steph. Sorry, I’m late. I had to clear something up with our liquor distributor. Hattie, this is Steph. She’s my eyes and ears at all the other locations. Steph, this is Hattie. She’s helping me with the finances and whatever else I need.”
Steph arches one of her manicured eyebrows at me, probably wondering if Hattie helps me in the same way that she does. Not yet, unfortunately. Especially after that fashion show the other day. Her new outfit is actually killing me today.
“Nice to meet you.” It’s clear from Hattie’s voice that she’s intimidated by Steph, and for some reason, that irks me.
“Hattie, why don’t you take off for the day? You were here early.”
She looks between Steph and me, then nods, grabbing her purse and phone before darting from the office. Once she’s gone, I close the door and turn to give Steph an unimpressed look.
“What?”
“There’s no reason to go around pissing on your territory, Steph, because it’s not actually your territory—it’s mine, remember?” I walk over and sit at my desk.
She rolls her eyes and sits in the chair on the other side. “If you’d given me a heads-up that you hired her, I wouldn’t have been interrogating her when you walked in.”
I steeple my hands on my desk. “Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t have.”
She shrugs, lips pressed together. “My point still stands. You should have told me.”
I lean back in my seat, arms crossed. “You work for me. You’re only entitled to know what I choose to tell you. Now, I want to hear how it went this week. Any issues I need to deal with?”
She looks appropriately chastised before she launches into telling me what I need to know, and I relax a bit, hoping she won’t cause Hattie any more grief.
When we finish our meeting, it’s apparent to me that she’s hoping I’ll go lock the office door so we can have some fun, but I’m not interested. My mind is on only one thing right now—advancing my plan with Hattie. And with the way she ran out of here, I suspect I may have to do some damage control.
“Where are you planning to be next week?” I ask, getting up from my chair and making my way to the door.
“Los Angeles.”
My hand closes around the door handle, and I pull it open, motioning that she can head out. “Great. Let me know how it goes.”
She stands from her chair, looking as though maybe she’s going to say something, but she must realize that her words will fall on deaf ears, because she simply nods and leaves.
I pass Steph in the hallway as she’s talking to one of the dancers, and I can feel her watch me until I disappear from view. Steph better not be getting territorial on me now, or the two of us are going to have an unpleasant conversation.
I quickly make my way to my condo, then I confirm with Jeffery that Hattie arrived about twenty-five minutes ago.
When I enter the condo, Hattie isn’t in the main area, so I head down the hall to her room.
Her bedroom door is open, and several boxes are piled beside her dresser.
She’s sitting on the end of the bed with her shoulders sagging, staring down between her legs.
Something is wrong. Something besides Steph’s attitude toward her.
“I almost quit today.” Her words come out soft and forlorn as I enter the room.
Fear spears me, sharp and swift. “Why?”
She raises her head and meets my gaze. There are tears in her eyes, which I should relish, but somehow they make me feel… protective. I push back that this whole thing is getting a little twisted and recenter myself on the plan.
“I don’t want to tell you.” Hattie looks away from me. “I’m ashamed.”
I sit on the edge of the bed beside her. “What would you have to be ashamed about?”
“When I took a break today, I went out to the main room, and I was watching Destiny give a lap dance to one of the customers and it…” Her face crumples, and she squeezes her eyes shut. “It turned me on,” she whispers.
Jesus. She’s more innocent than I thought if being turned on causes her this much guilt. I have to wonder if this woman has ever even had an orgasm. Is she a virgin?
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” When she tries to look away from me, I place a finger under her chin and turn her head in my direction.
“Hattie, that’s what’s supposed to happen.
It’s a biological response. A normal human response.
You don’t have to be ashamed of it.” I keep my voice gentle, hoping she’ll hear the truth in my words.
Because I won’t get anywhere with her if she thinks every time she’s turned on, it’s bad.
As much as I resent this woman, I hate that she was raised to think there’s something wrong with her because of her sexuality and what she desires.
“You don’t understand. My whole life I was taught that things like that, places like that are wrong. And now I work in one, and not only am I lying to everyone back home about it, but I’m starting not to hate it, not to think it’s so terrible. I was enjoying it.”
“Have you considered that a bigger issue might be if you hadn’t?”
Her forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean?”
Here goes nothing. “I know that you were raised with certain beliefs, and I’m not here to tell you they’re wrong.
Not at all. But sexuality is a part of being human.
Sometimes it’s just for fun or pleasure, sure, and if that’s not your thing, okay.
But it’s also a big part of expressing your feelings for someone you care about.
It’s not just about procreation.” Taking a gamble, I place her hand over my heart.
Her hazel eyes widen. “It’s about connection and intimacy, knowing a person the way very few other people ever will.
It’s about giving and receiving pleasure.
There’s a reason it’s called making love.
” I shake my head. “No one should ever feel guilty about that, so stop beating yourself up about it.”
She lets out a shaky exhale, and I drop her hand from my chest. “I hear what you’re saying, and on some level, I know you’re right. I do. It’s just so hard to push against the voice in my head because it’s been there for a long time.”
“You said you were going to quit. What changed your mind?”
“Originally, it was when I saw my pay stub in my inbox. But what really solidified it was those boxes.” She motions to the small pile at the corner of the bed.
“Those arrived today, and I was thinking back to when I was packing them. I was so excited to experience something new. Still nervous about how it would turn out, but I was open to new experiences, and it felt right. Coming here to discover a little bit of who I might be away from everything I know somehow seemed important, and I decided that I don’t want to give that up just because I’m scared or ashamed or am having difficulty adjusting. ”
“So you’re staying then?” Even I hear the hopeful thread to my voice. I tell myself it’s just because I want to be able to carry out my plan, but I can’t entirely push away the thought that I may be lying to myself.
She nods. “After my mom died, all I remember is how sad my dad was. I was young, but all I wanted was for him to be happy again, and it seemed like that was never going to happen. I worked so hard to make sure I was never a problem and never gave him anything to be upset about. Then Carla came into our lives, and I saw him start to come around. Then finally, he was like his old self. I didn’t want to rock that balance, so I kept striving to be everything they wanted me to be, but I’m just now realizing that I never stopped to ask myself who I wanted to be. ”
The mention of my mother’s name feels like shards of glass in my throat, and it takes me a moment to respond.
“You’re a good person, Hattie.” Despite myself, I mean the words. “But you can’t live your life to please everyone else. You’ll never really be happy that way. You need to be whoever is going to make you happy. And the only way to do that is to jump in and try new things and see how you feel.”
She thinks over my words and nods slowly. “I think maybe you’re right.”
I squeeze her hand, rubbing my thumb back and forth. I don’t miss the way she sucks in a breath.
“I look forward to seeing who you become.” I’m unable to stop the grin that spreads on my face. I just hope it doesn’t look too feral.
“Thank you for listening. You’re really good at that.”
“I’m here for you whenever you need me. In whatever capacity you need me.” I keep rubbing my thumb over her knuckles and maintain our eye contact.
It would be so easy to kiss her. As our gazes hold, we both inch forward a bit. Her gaze dips to my mouth, and she licks her lips. We drift another inch closer, the rope between us taut with sexual tension.
Our lips are an inch apart when I wait for her to take the leap, then a buzzing sound rips through the sexual haze like cymbals crashing in an orchestra.
Hattie bolts up from the mattress, appearing a little frantic as she searches for her phone.
It’s on the other side of me on the mattress, so I reach for it to pass it to her. The name Mom flashes on the screen.
She takes the phone from me and glances at it. “That’s my mom. I’d better take it.”
I stand stiffly, annoyed that Carla is fucking with my plan. Then again, maybe she did me a favor. When I was leaning in for that kiss, I wasn’t at all thinking of the game I was playing with Hattie. I was motivated by pure animal instinct.
“I’ll leave you be.” I smooth my tie down my chest before I turn and leave the room.
Next week, it’s time to move forward with my plans for Hattie, helping her discover who she can be out from under the confines of her never-ending morals.