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I mean them because I realize that I felt so much better about myself to look so good and have others think I did. It’s stupid, perhaps, but the whole reason I went to Margot and wanted the makeover I got was because I wanted to look hot enough to be on Gian’s arm. “I can’t believe you’re mad that I’m actually looking the part of someone that you’d sleep with. You’ve probably slept with everyone who dances here,” I say, and I know that Gian has hinted that he doesn’t actually sleep around like his reputation says, but how do I really know that? I mean, I don’t know whatever it was that Margot doesn’t want to tell me.
“What?” Gian is stunned. I can tell he wasn’t expecting what I just said.
“You told me yourself that I wasn’t dressed the part for seducing you. Maybe I didn’t want my looks to come down to luck anymore,” I say, looking away.
“Come to the penthouse now, let’s not do this here,” Gian says. I’m shocked because I thought he was angry, but there’s something in his voice that seems more hurt than angry.
Because of that, my own response is quieter than I expected. All my anger gets buried when I think Gian is hurt. I want this situation diffused. “I’ll say goodbye to Margot, then we’ll go,” I say.
Gian nods and we walk out together. I put my shirt back on and I see the man that Gian was with is grinning wide at me when he sees me.
“Damn good upgrade, Sandoval,” the man says.
Gian bristles at the words and I’m suddenly so ready to be up and out of here.
“Mr. Sandoval, we were just having fun-“ Margot says, talking so quickly.
I don’t want Gian to be mad at her, and to his credit, he smiles and shakes his head. “No worries, Margot,” he says, but the words are dismissive. I know Gian wants to get up to the penthouse and be alone more than anything.
I can’t say I disagree, though I’m still frustrated. I don’t want to argue more but I know that I can’t just ignore Gian’s reaction to what is honestly not that big of a deal. I just want this whole night to be over with.
Tonight was supposed to end without him because he’d be working late … but I get the feeling he won’t be leaving the penthouse tonight after we get up there.
10
Gian
“I only did any of this,” Lucy waves her hand down her body to indicate the clothes she’s wearing, the hair, the makeup, “because you basically had Margot load up a whole new me in those bags the night after. I’m trying new things because my life is so completely different than it was all of five minutes ago. You say I’m not a prisoner, so then when I try to figure out my life, you get mad at me. How am I supposed to know what to do?”
Shit. Well I stepped in it. “Okay, so I don’t like the idea of you looking so damn hot when other people are going to see you, but I don’t want to keep you from whatever it is that you want to do, no matter what it be. And I never needed you to change. I love everything about you no matter what you’re wearing or if you’re made up, dressed down…” Fuck I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here, and I just want her to know that I’m sorry. That I’m crazy about her.
I know that Lucy is just trying to find her footing, but I can’t pretend like her words didn’t hurt me a little. The idea that I found her somehow not attractive enough isn’t just false, but it just reflects the god-awful parts about me that she has all wrong.
Not as if I can reach across and grab her face and tell her, hey, princess, there are plenty of bad things about me but those in particular aren’t right.
Well, I could, but that doesn’t exactly help either of our situations.
I know that the best thing that I can do is play the part of the consummate charmer. I have to make my every move one to make her fall deeper into my madness, to buy into the notion that she’s starting to have that I might be some decent kind of man.
Of course, I manipulate people all the time. I could manipulate women into bed, or keep them in bed, if I wanted to. This plan should not turn my stomach. It isn’t an out of line action, or me. Yet, I find myself wishing I were doing anything but lying to Lucy. I think I almost want to be the person I plan to lie about being.
Well, that might have been an option a long time ago, but now I’m not capable of being that man anymore. I killed the good man inside me and let the monster live instead. The monster is wealthy. The monster only cares about himself.
