Page 152 of Inflame

“Are you here to purchase me, Nic? Give me a little test drive to warm up your dick again? I’m sure it’s gotten cold.”

“What? No.”

“Good. Because you have a shitty refund policy!”

“Just calm down, please.”

I let go of her and she whirls around, her hand stretched out to slap me. I catch it midair and hold it in place. Her face twists into a wince, and I let go of her hand. What the hell? Is she hurt?

“Fuck you, Nic Hoffman!” she fumes with rage.

“Hey now, use your good girl words.”

She shoves at me. “Don’t follow me.”

“Don’t go dating some assholes just to piss me off.”

“Why do you care? I’m no longer your concern. Are you one of those types that ifyou don’t want me, let’s make it so no one wants me?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” I say softly.

“Too fucking late. I’m hurt.” She points a perfectly manicured finger at me. “Youhurt me. You broke us. I will never forgive you either.”

“I know.” My words come out sad. And in a way, I hope she follows through on her promise. She’ll be way better off if she steers clear of me.

“So stay out of my life. Let me move on the way I choose to move on.”

“I’m not going to sit back and watch you fill up your calendar with a bunch of men.”

“Well, you can’t stop people offering.” She makes a face, and I can’t tell what is going on in her head. “Just like I can’t.”

“Oh, Icanstop it.”

“So, you are going to fire me?”

“Maybe.”

Claire turns to stare out at the water in the pool. The lights are on and it looks majestic under the night sky. She tips her head back and loses herself to the stars. It wasn’t that long ago she was catching raindrops on her tongue. It wasn’t that long ago we were taking pictures with a unicorn selfie stick. It wasn’t that long ago she was trying to swim in a Vegas fountain. It wasn’t that long ago…

And yet so much has happened in between.

But there is nothing carefree about her now.

Stress mars her features, and I’m the artist who painted her world with darkness.

When Claire has had a moment to collect her thoughts, she turns to me with fire in her eyes. “You Hoffman boys really have some nerve, don’t you? You walk around the earth stomping on anyone in your way and exerting all of your weird control techniques. You’re not my pimp. You don’t get to choose or reject men for me.”

Claire turns around and storms back into the mansion. I follow closely behind her. She walks up to a group of men, gathered around in a circle talking about the stock market.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says boldly, “but on the off chance that you find that my agency profile disappears from the website, then use this number to set up another date with me.” She digs into her handbag and pulls out these little black business cards that have lips pressed into the corner. The graphic is embossed using a red, shiny ink. “Looking forward to seeing some of you in the near future.”

“She’s off-limits,” I say with finality.

Claire glares at me and barks out, “That’s not true. Ignore him.”

“You proposition her, and you can expect to be exited from the agency. Your membership will be revoked.”

“He’s bluffing.”

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