“Do they matter? We’re leaving tomorrow,” I say, even as guilt prickles my conscience.
“Without a goodbye party with her friends? I don’t think so, buster.” Bennie shakes his head. “Maybe this is just a game to you. I mean, you’re rich, right? So who gives a shit about a few ruined lives along the way so long as you get what you want? But to her the job meant something. And if you don’t understand that, you’re just a prick who only gives lip service to the idea that you care about her.”
Anger swells in my chest. How dare
he accuse me of not caring about her? He knows nothing about me—how I feel.
Bennie continues. “Be honest. You want her because you think she’s a challenge. Or maybe you figure she’ll be easy to manipulate because her family was poor. How hard is it to dazzle a girl who grew up hungry?”
“If you think that, you don’t know much about me at all. I care about her because I value her sweetness, her kindness, and her loyalty.” All the things I saw when I first met her…and wanted for myself with a desperation that bordered on obsession. “I won’t insult both our intelligence and claim that my feelings are purely platonic. I want her in my bed. But if I only wanted sex, there are much less challenging women.”
“Then why are you using money to force her to take you back? Because that’s what this is about, isn’t it? You making sure she can’t support herself without you?”
Because money’s the only thing of value I can offer. Anything else would be unfair.
“I want to provide for her, give her things that she’s never had before. It isn’t wrong for a man to want to see the woman he cares for live in comfort.”
Bennie sneers. “Like I said—with money. Just like—” He suddenly stops and shakes his head.
My eyes narrow. He was about to say something critical. Come on, say it!
Predictably, he doesn’t. “If you ever bother to get to know her—really know her—you’ll realize what you’re offering to, quote provide for her unquote, will never be enough. It doesn’t matter how poor she grew up. She doesn’t care about money, not the way you think. Otherwise she would’ve kept on buying those stupid lottery tickets.”
What the…? The Ava I know is careful with her funds. I can’t imagine her pissing away what little she has on something as pointless as a lottery.
Bennie continues, “So take a moment to think about that before you do anything else to corner her into being with you.”
The muscles in my left cheek tick as he hits my sore point. Deep inside I know she only consented to stay with me because she has no better option—I made sure of it.
If she had other choices, she’d never give me a second look.
Who cares about that? You can’t let her go now.
Of course not. She’s as vital as air to me. And I’ll fight anyone who dares try to take her away.
Chapter Eighteen
Ava
It’s silly to start getting ready for dinner when it’s barely six, but I can’t help it. Lucas called earlier to get directions. He’ll be here soon, and there are butterflies fluttering in my belly as the minutes tick by.
I apply a fresh coat of lipstick on my mouth. It’s a sexy shade of red, and I like the way it makes my lips look plump and juicy. I check my appearance in the mirror one more time. Blush has added some color to my cheeks, and my long-sleeved wine-red dress with floral lace patterns is fitted with a flirty, flaring skirt. I picked it up on sale last year at a store in Tokyo. Although back then I laughed at my own silliness for buying something I might never wear, I’m glad to have it now. I put on the set of pearl earrings and matching necklace that Darcy and Ray gave me at my college graduation. I chided them for being extravagant, but now I’m grateful. I don’t own anything that can really be considered nice—most of my accessories are sale items from inexpensive stores—certainly not fancy enough to wear on a dinner date with Lucas.
A knock sounds at my door, and Bennie sticks his head in. “Your man’s here. Says you two have a date.” His tone makes it clear he isn’t crazy about me going out with Lucas. “I parked him in the living room.”
“Okay.” I go over and lightly pat his back. “I know you’re trying. Thank you.”
“Sorry.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s just… I want to be supportive, but seeing his face… Fuck. It reminds me of what you’ve lost.”
“If you mean Mia—” I say, voice low.
“And more. He’s cost you so much.”
I squeeze his shoulder. “I didn’t lose her. She’s happy where she is, and I would’ve made a terrible mother.”
“You’re way too harsh on yourself. Shitty parents are people like your parents and mine, not you.” He huffs out a breath. “Anyway, have fun.”
The moment I step out of my room, I spot Lucas. My breath hitches at the perfection of his presence. He is impeccably dressed in a black button-down shirt and a jacket that accentuate the strong lines of his chest and a pair of inky pants that fits perfectly around his hips and shows off outlines of his muscled thighs. His long dark brown hair covers the left side of his face, hiding the scar from view. The vulnerability that represents makes my heart clench.