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He nodded, but his hands were still twisting in his lap.
“You’re very beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“It’s been a long time for me since I’ve been on a date.”
“You and me both.” Again, I grimaced at my response, but he chuckled, and I relaxed slightly.
“My wife died, you see. I’m just looking for some company. I get lonely.” He looked me up and down but only briefly before his gaze rested on my face. “I may be old, but I’m not dead and still enjoy the company of beautiful women.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your wife.”
He nodded, his eyes shining. “I’m not here to use you, Evie, I mean that. I just want company, that’s all.”
He must have noticed my shoulders slump slightly as I relaxed further, and he smiled at me again. This time when I grinned back, it was genuine.
The dinner was wonderful, and I don’t mean only the food, although I don’t think I had eaten that well in… ever. Clive asked about me, and I kept my answers tactful, and although his eyes would skip over my breasts before lingering on the scars on my arms, he never asked about them. He didn’t need to know the sordid details of my childhood and my life in general. So we just talked, and I listened to his stories and laughed appropriately, finding that as the date wore on, my smiles became less scripted and more natural.
It was hard to believe this was real. I was getting paid so well for this.
My face dropped as I remembered Tyson’s visit earlier.
Of course, something like this would be too good to last.
Clive had stopped talking, and it took me a moment to realize I was running my forefinger and thumb up the stem of my glass absentmindedly.
“Evie?” he asked.
I sat upright. “Oh! Clive, I am so sorry. You must think I’m so rude.”
“No, you just looked like you were elsewhere for a moment.”
I smiled sadly at him. “I guess I was back outside with reality instead of here laughing with you.”
His fingers brushed my shoulder as he reached toward my neck, and I flinched. “Who did this?” he asked.
Instinctively, my hand flew to my throat, covering the bruises I should’ve known would form from Tyson’s warning.
“Nobody.”
He watched me for a moment, and I became uncomfortable under his gaze.
“Evie—”
I held up a hand, and he stopped talking. “Clive, please. It’s a dark world out there. Please, let’s not ruin our date with everything that exists for me outside these walls.”
He nodded, concern swimming in his eyes. But he respected my request and didn’t ask about the bruises on my neck or face, nor the scars that adorned my body. I could tell they bothered him, though, not that he found them ugly or repulsive but because he wanted to help.
For some reason, he cared.
I thought again of Zaqiel.
Where were all these people who cared years ago?
Maybe I could have had a different life.
Clive had offered to walk me home, and as I made my way back through the city, I wished I had taken him up on his offer. After how nice he was, we finished the night with nothing more than a chaste kiss on the cheek and a prolonged hug. I hated to admit I was embarrassed by where I lived. I couldn’t afford much, even less now that Tyson wasn’t paying my rent, and my choices were so limited given Tyson’s hold on a few of the landlords in the area. I didn’t want Clive to see how I lived. He might want to take me in, offer to buy me a nice place, or take me back to his. I couldn’t allow him to do that. I wasn’t worth it.
