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“That doesn’t mean he’s manipulated you.”
“Mypoint,” she said, leveling me with an annoyed stare, “is that I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore.”
She resumed emptying the dishwasher.
“You know what’s real. The truth is just a little muddied right now.”
“What would you think?” She picked up the dishtowel and dried a container lid. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
I held up a pair of tongs. “Where do these go?”
She snatched them from my hand and shoved them in a drawer.
I needed to keep her talking, so I refused to get the hint. “I’m pretty damn pissed about what he did too, but he deserves the benefit of the doubt. The guy did what he thought he had to do to protect his family. I can’t fault him for that. In fact, I respect him for it.”
“You and your respect need to leave.” She pointed toward the door.
I held up both of my hands. “I’m only trying to help.”
“Well, you’re not.”
That was a gut punch, but I shoved away the hurt. She was just lashing out. If she needed to unleash, I’d gladly be the one to take it.
“All right. I’ll take off.” This date wasn’t ending like I’d pictured at all. I thought she’d have had so much fun she wouldn’t want it to be over. We’d hang out on the couch, watch an old movie, maybe, just maybe, fall asleep in each other’s arms.
The way she looked at me right now, I wasn’t sure she ever wanted to see me again.
“And what happened last night wasn’t protection.”
I kept my expression neutral when she continued talking. She needed to get this out. Maybe she didn’t want to be as alone as she thought she did.
“Much as we want to, we can’t control every situation,” I offered, trying like hell not to break the mountain of eggshells I was walking on.
A storm gathered in her eyes. “There never should have been a situation like that. This,”—she waved her hand above her head—“is supposed to be the one place I’m safe.”
I drew in a long breath. How could I tell her she was when I wasn’t entirely sure? Even if those assholes last night had never intended to harm a hair on her head, look at the residual effect. She was scared, and rightly so. I was beginning to understand that feeling safe was the foundation Muriella was built on. It had cracked, and she was unsteady.
“You’re safe with me.”
She smoothed down the creases in the dishtowel with the force of a sledgehammer, all while keeping that madder than hell gaze on me.
“Thank you for lunch.”
It was an automatic, polite dismissal. One I wanted to stomp under my boot. For a second today, I thought she’d let me in a little. But she’d put me squarely back at arm’s length, and I hated it.
“It was my pleasure.” I gave her a sharp nod. “If you need me, call me.”
That last part was a waste of breath. The day Muriella called me would be the day world peace was achieved and hunger was wiped out.
I madesure to lock her door on the way out. I pressed the call button for the elevator, then thought better of it. I trotted up the steps and knocked on the penthouse door.
Daniel answered, his hair haphazard where he’d no doubt been yanking on it. He turned around, and I followed him to the study where Vivian was in the same spot on the sofa.
She twisted as we entered. “What happened? Is she okay?”
“She’s pissed as all hell. Banging dishes around and everything.” I dropped into the chair opposite the sofa.
“She slapped me,” Daniel said, almost in a daze.
