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“Teach me. If you think I’m so entirely lacking, then teach me.”
Ricardo is a second away from rolling his eyes. “There isn’t enough time to teach you. We need to get rid of him now.”
“Then give me the basics of what I have to do to survive, and we’ll work through each problem as it arises. I will do this alone. With or without you. It’s your choice.” I pause, then spear down on a slice of strawberry. The way I wish to stab Ricardo in the leg if he keeps looking at the girls trotting by.
Parading by, more like. Trying to get his attention.
He keeps shaking his head at me, looking at them.
“So I guess that me sucking your cock means nothing, huh?” I find myself asking and immediately regretting it. “You have more than enough willing participants to drain you.”
Ricardo’s face shows no change and he won’t look in my direction. “Not even the best head I’ve gotten this week.”
Is he trying to piss me off? Anger filters through my system. Not like it matters. It’s the end result, regardless.
“Good to know you won’t want a repeat session, then.” The lie dries my mouth because I wanted a repeat. I’ve wanted everything, for long enough it’s become a tape playing inside of my head, this relentless need for someone who I’ll never be able to have.
“If we’re going to do this thing together…” Ricardo starts, trailing off. He leans forward, sets me with a heavy-lidded look, and groans. “Then it is the two of us. Understand? And we will have to be swift and lethal.”
“The two of us,” I repeat.
“Yes.”
“So you’re not going to shut me out and handle everything yourself? You or my father?”
Ricardo opens his mouth to speak when a flicker of surprise flashes over his face. He holds up a hand, bidding me silent, and reaches into his pocket for his cell phone. “Excuse me one moment. It’s important.” It’s the only thing he says before he gets up and strides off, two of his guards following him and two of them staying behind with me.
I stare after Ricardo’s retreating back, wondering just how many hits he wants to throw at me before I can’t take it anymore and explode. It would serve him right for me to react the way he thinks I will, with frustration and jealousy and enough pent-up aggression to drown a horse.
“Hey!” Sarah plops down on the couch beside me, and I hadn’t heard her approach.
“Thank you,” I make myself say. “For the fruit. It was delicious.”
She shrugs good-naturedly, and the movement has her tits bobbing. The shiny top is designed to put her assets on display. “I’ve gone hungry enough times to recognize the look and know exactly what you were craving. And we all know men can’t tell their ass from a hole in the ground. They’d let you walk around with every part of you rumbling and then wonder why you didn’t say anything.”
I want to be upset with her for the look she gave him. I want to be pissy and take out every bit of stress on her, but her smile and the openness on her made-up face…not to mention the compassion.
“You’re right about him. He doesn't see things sometimes, even though I did tell him I was hungry.”
“Not just him. Any dude, really. My own boyfriend will eat an entire pizza and then get upset with me if I try to take a slice because he bought it for himself, and I should have ordered one for me.” She rolls her eyes. “He can’t get that I only want a slice of his. Not an entire pie.”
Gosh, when was the last time I dated someone long enough to get to that level of comfort? My dates have always been few and far between and only last long enough for me to bring them home to my family and have them run without ever learning the truth.
I used to console myself with the act that I’d be forced into an arranged marriage like Mia. Now I halfway wonder if it wouldn’t be better.
“It makes sense to me,” I finally tell Sarah, dragging my attention back to her.
It doesn’t matter; she knows where my focus is anyway.
“He’s a good boss, though. Much better than the other one.” She holds up her hands, her nails manicured into sharp points. “He had paws for hands. Always grabbing where he shouldn’t have grabbed. Mr. Assante respects us.”
Respects them…she’s probably just saying nice things because she can see how absolutely head over heels I am. I am so stupid. “You don't have to convince me. I’m no one important to him.”
Sarah slaps her knee with a bark of laughter. “Is that what you think?”
Curiosity floods through me as I hold out my hand. “I’m Isabella. Officially.”
Sarah grabs me and squeezes in a surprisingly business-like grip. “I know. I’m Sarah Spencer, officially. Part-time server, part-time dancer, full-time pain in the ass. I love to spread chaos wherever I go.”
