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“$80.00 an hour,” Myla said proudly.

“$80.00 an hour times 8 hours a day equals—”

Myla interrupted. “I work 10-hour days.”

“My apologies, Ms. Workaholic. $80.00 an hour, ten hours a day = $800.00 a day times 5 Days a week = $4,000 a week. Ok, I can handle that,” Dante said as he went into his suit jacket and pulled out $4,500, kissed her on her lips, and stuffed the money in her bra.

“You belong to me until Friday at 5 p.m.”

Just thinking about the boss move had Myla squirming. Dante had been over to her home every day, filling every hole of her body with fingers, tongue, and dick so good that she wanted to put insurance on it.

“What was that about and why are you grinning like that?” Dante asked as he walked into the bedroom and put his phone face down on the nightstand. If Myla saw the gesture, she hadn’t mentioned it.

“It was just Mimi wanting to know why I wasn’t at work. I was so wrapped up in you that I forgot to tell her I took a week off. I guess since the week is over, I need to start preparing my notes for the upcoming week,” Myla said as she reached for her work bag and laptop.

Dante scowled. His eyebrows dipped low, and his face took on an expression that Myla had never seen.

“Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

“So, you took my money, agreed that we could spend the week together, but when your lonely ass friend calls, you’re ready to run off to the office. Let me guess, office is code word for let’s get out of the house and fuck other men,” Dante screamed.

Rage, unlike anything Myla had ever seen, contorted Dante’s usually handsome face into something horrific.

“What are you talking about? I’m not going into the office; I’m in bed with my work bag and my laptop. Who said anything about going into the office?” Myla asked.

Dante could not process what Myla was saying. He had formed his own reality based on a few words, and that was the only thing that he’d acknowledge.

“Do I look stupid to you? When that bitch called, you were ready to hop online. Is the man you’re fucking in your office online? Or are you playing for the other team like your dick-hopping Daddy?”

Myla gasped.

Dante’s accusation didn’t just wound her; it ripped through her core with surgical precision. His words had crippled her, hitting her so hard that her body forgot how to respond to a verbal attack. No tears, no defense, just numbness spreading through her entire body as his words dismantled her very being.

Myla was in disbelief. She never thought that Dante would ever weaponize her vulnerability. He knew how humiliating finding out about her ex and her father’s betrayal had been. It was he who told her to let that pain go and move on. Now it was him launching the most heartbreaking thing she ever discovered back into her face. She wanted to speak, but she couldn’t. The only thing she could think of was Miranda telling her that she didn’t know Dante well enough to divulge that sort of truth.

“Oh, so you don’t have shit to say. So, you are fucking someone in the office and had your friend call you to lie in my face. I should’ve known from our first date that you were selfish as fuck. Saying one thing and doing something else. I told you a certain time to be ready; I got here, and you weren’t ready. You never gave a fuck about me, and it always showed,” Dante screamed as he grabbed his face- down phone and walked out.

Myla heard her front door slam, but she still could not move. She was so discombobulated by the verbal attack that it never occurred to her that Dante had altered the plans for their first date. He had set the time and intentionally arrived before the time she’d agreed to be ready.

Too many thoughts were circulating in Myla’s head. She could not understand how grabbing her work bag while still sitting in bed had led to her being a cheater, being a thief, and being bisexual like her father.

She wanted to call Miranda, but she knew that she couldn’t, since she had just abruptly hung up on her.

“There has to be an explanation for why he reacted that way. There is no way he snapped on me like that. There was no way he threw the most heartbreaking moment of my life in my face for no reason,” Myla said as she slapped at the tears running a marathon down her face. Hurt did not describe what she was feeling.

The sound of the text alert stopped the flow of tears. It was the special sound that she had saved for Dante. She knew that the back-to-back messages had to be an apology for how he had just spoken to her. Her heart dropped when she opened the text thread and began to read the messages.

Text from Dante: You really thought you could get over by using code words like I wouldn’t figure shit out.

Text from Dante: You think you’re so much better than me. Quoting Maya Angelou, but oblivious to the fact that your friend has been trying to get at me. She tricked you into believing that a woman like you, a woman running around with downlow men, would know what to do with a real man.

Text from Dante: Glad I found out the type of person you are before we went any further. Your coworker can keep that. No man, especially a high value man like me, has a need for high mileage pussy. Shit was trash anyway. I only tolerated it because I liked you.

Text from Dante: I swear women are trifling as fuck. After this stunt you just pulled, I have a better understanding of why your AIDS infected dead ex was fucking your daddy. He couldn’t wait to die so he could get back to his man LOL. I want my money back, bitch.

As Myla read the text messages, each more unhinged and disrespectful than the one before it, the only thing she could do was cry.

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