I knew it was better that way.
Examining his eyes, I could see defeat. It was like watching a plant shrivel and die, withering in front of my very eyes. “And you agreed to it.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Ivy.”
I shook my head and looked down, sensing imminent tears. “Yeah. I could choose to waste my education and instead work at the coffee shop the rest of my life. Oh, and model until my body and face no longer sustain me, and I better hope those last till my student loans are paid off.” I looked up then, feeling a little resentful. It was easy for him to judge—he had a perfect family, a solid vocation, and an old and lucrative career he could run back to anytime he chose. My entire life hung in the balance, my entire future in question.
His voice was softer then. “So you’re going to do it?”
I cemented my resolve deep inside, willing back the emotions threatening to consume me. “You might think I have a choice, but I don’t. I’ve exhausted any other potential options.”
I could see the hurt in Shane’s eyes, too, but then I saw it turn off, like a light fading to black. He was distancing himself from me while I watched, shutting himself off, protecting his heart. I guessed I really couldn’t blame him. “So you’ve already…” He blinked. “Have you already agreed to this? You knew earlier tonight that you were going to do this but let me believe—”
I shook my head. “I haven’t told him yet—that I agreed to it. I have to go over there tomorrow and negotiate—if that’s even what you’d call agreeing to blackmail.”
To have said Shane was devastated would have been an understatement. Seeing how he fought his emotions to stay cool and calm told me he’d been feeling about me the same way I’d been feeling about him—and I’d just crushed us. I’d ruined us before we could even start. His jaw rippled but then he forced himself to speak. “Well, then, best of luck, Ivy. I, uh…I hope you have a good life.”
That was it? After everything, Shane was going to throw away amazing sex and a budding relationship in the blink of an eye? No, I didn’t blame him. Logically, it made perfect sense, but for him to be able to shut himself off like that without a second thought…well, it made me realize that I was doing the right thing. I was the only person I could fully rely on in the world, and I had but to fortify myself to survive the next year intact.
I relaxed my pursed lips to answer. “You, too, Shane. Best of luck.”
No hug. No embrace. No apologies.
As my door clicked closed, the tears began to fall, subsiding sometime after midnight when my body finally gave in to merciful sleep.
* * *
I might have drifted off eventually, but that didn’t mean there was anything peaceful about it. I didn’t feel rested at all the next morning, and I didn’t know that makeup could cover all the sins of sobbing and sleeplessness.
I didn’t have to work at the coffee shop that morning, so I decided to go to Greg’s studio as soon as he opened to just get it all over with. I’d already resolved to dance with the devil, so I might as well get started.
It began with lots of concealer and foundation, dark and heavy eyeliner, and extra blush on my pale cheeks followed with the rest of my regular makeup routine. Dressing was another ordeal. In spite of the fact that I was signing up to be a sex slave, I wanted nothing that was suggestive today. Knowing Greg, he’d have me in all manner of suggestive outfits soon enough. This was my last chance to be respectful and demure—I was going to take it. Jeans, boots, and an oversized sweater made me almost feel like I’d donned chainmail.
As I drove to Greg’s studio, I had a fleeting thought that he’d have an agreement for me to sign, much like the contracts/ releases I signed every time I’d modeled for him, but, of course, he wouldn’t. That would be evidence of blackmail. No, he was the one with the leverage—the contract would be to protect my interests, and it was obvious he had no concern over my well-being.
When I arrived, he was already there but the door was locked. I rang the bell, wondering if maybe he’d chosen to close a few days around the holidays, but he showed up at the door after a couple of seconds.
“Ivy…what a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Ugh. What an ass. He had to know how miserable this was for me, didn’t he? “You gave me twenty-four hours…so I’m here to give you an answer.”
He cocked an eyebrow as I stepped inside the warm studio. Like a gentleman, he came around behind me to remove my coat. As much as I wanted to protest, I told myself I’d have to get used to whatever he did, so I finagled my purse while I allowed him to hang my coat on the rack in the corner. “And where’s your phone?”
An odd question, but simple enough to answer. “Here.” I reached in my purse.
“Mind if I look at it?”
What the hell was he going to do? I sucked a deep breath in through my nostrils before I handed it over. If he broke it or did anything stupid, I was going to have to rethink all this. But he clicked a button and saw that it was locked. “Mind keying in your passcode?” He handed me the phone and I did as instructed. “I just want to make sure you’re not doing anything foolish, like recording our conversation.” I let him take it from me again, wondering why I hadn’t even considered doing something like that. Getting him in trouble with the law for illegal activities might have been my escape from what was surely going to be a year-long nightmare.
Once he was satisfied that I wasn’t recording us, he said, “So you’ve made your decision?”
I nodded as a queasy feeling settled in the pit of my gut. “I have. I just have one question.”
“What’s that?” His lips curled up at the corners as I realized he already knew what my answer was going to be.
“How can I be sure you’ll do everything you’ve said you’re going to do? How can I know I can trust you?”