Page 17 of Passion

“Great. Give me fifteen minutes.” He jogged up the steps and out of earshot, and Midge shook her head again. She looked like a fucking bobble head.

“What!” I snapped, not meaning to.

“Girl, you’ve got it bad. You’re leading him on bigtime. You need to check out of hotel de rich man and put some space there… But fuck, is he fine.”

I snickered at her. “You should see him naked.” We both laughed, and my phone rang. I reached into my pocket and pulled it out to see it was my mother again. Third time today. “It’s my mom. I’m sorry.” I stood and walked away from the pile of boxes toward the back door that overlooked the pool, and a bit farther out, the beach. “What, Mom?”

“Well, that’s no way to greet your mother.” She was in a foul mood already, and it matched mine.

“I’m sorry. How are you?”

“I called to find out how you are, dear. Has your friend helped you find a place? You said his name was Lucas?” She was using her emotionally manipulative tone, the one I’d grown so used to that I knew how to use it against her.

“Yes, Lucas Smith. Tri-Tech? He’s a good man, Mom. He’s helping me.” I knew the name would mean nothing to her, but the company name would strike fear in her heart. Her worst fear for me was that I would end up with a man exactly like my father. Honestly, I worried about it too. No girl wants to marry a man who'd use her and discard her for a younger version when he’s done.

“Oh, dear… oh, sweet girl. You need to come home. You need to let me buy you a plane ticket. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“Mom, dinner is ready. Okay? I have to run. I’ll call you tomorrow. I’m safe, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

“Vera—”

I hung up before she could say another word. Between Midge and my mother, I was beginning to think the worst of the only person who had helped me in the past week during the worst time of my life. I didn’t want to think of him that way. I didn’t want this goddamn fairy tale to end. I needed more time to just absorb the goodness before I was thrust back into reality where life sucked and men were pigs.

I put on my brave face and headed to the dining room to join Lucas and Midge for dinner. She’d see. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. He was a really great man who was quickly becoming a great friend.

14

LUCAS

Ihad to chase Vera out the door to the awaiting car so she wouldn’t be late. I didn’t mind it one bit. I enjoyed having someone to care for. It made life a lot less boring. Besides, following her gave me the best view of that amazing ass, and the yellow pencil dress she wore accented her curves well. I had to tell my cock to back off because everything this woman did drove me mad with arousal, but I didn’t want her to think for a moment that it was all I was after.

“Sir,” Hector mumbled, opening the door for us. We both slid into the back seat of the car and he shut the door after us. When he climbed in, he asked me in Spanish where to go, and I offered the address. Vera looked surprised that I knew how to speak another language.

“That’s hot.” She grinned.

“What?” I feigned confusion just to keep her talking. I liked that she liked it.

“You speak Spanish?”

“I speak several languages, but yes, Spanish is one of them.” I angled my body to face her and propped my elbow on the back of the seat, resting my head on my palm. “Do you? Speak other languages, I mean.”

“Nah, just enough to order a drink at a restaurant or to ask where the bathroom is when I travel.” She chuckled and turned toward me too. Her expression changed, growing more serious. “Can we talk?”

“Sure, what is it?” I could see in her eyes that she was pained in whatever it was she was thinking, but I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong. I was confident she just needed someone to talk to. She’d been through a lot, and I wanted to be there for her.

“Uh, well.” She gave a deep sigh. “I wanted to ask you, now that the windows in the guest bedroom are finished, if we could have separate rooms.” She sucked in a breath and started talking faster, like she was trying to explain away her feelings so she didn’t upset me. “I mean, you’ve been so amazing and you’ve helped me out so much. Thank you, I mean, that’s so huge. But I just feel like since we’re not really in a relationship, it might be more comfortable for both of us if I had my own room.”

I didn’t wince at the comment about our not being in a relationship, but I was disappointed by that. I had hoped that by now, she’d have gotten the idea that I really liked her and wanted her around. But I had to respect her. Still, my heart felt withdrawn, and I changed the subject.

“So, you got this interview on your own? That’s amazing. I’m sure you’re going to nail it. Did you send headshots to them?” I probably could have been more subtle about the shift, and I realized it when she grimaced and her eyes dropped. She didn’t answer me, and I wondered what she was thinking. I waited a few moments and added, “You’re going to be great, Vera. Your work will speak for itself.”

“Were you listening to me?” When she looked back at me, I could read the annoyance in her eyes. She didn’t look angry, but I could tell I had upset her. She scooted away from me a little, and my hand dropped to the leather seat, warm from her body.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I heard you.” I collected my thoughts carefully. I hadn’t been the greatest with the ladies in the past, not for lack of trying, but that wasn’t the reason I was still single. I had high standards—ridiculously high—so if a woman approached me and wasn’t off-put by my awkwardness, she likely failed my litmus test.

“I’d like to have a separate room if I’m going to stay any longer.” Her soft expression returned, and I took her hand and cradled it.

“Vera, I like you, and I think you like me too. Do you see us going somewhere? What I’m trying to say is, when you look at your future, do you see us working out? Having something?” I fiddled with her fingers, touching my thumb to each fingertip and then lacing our hands together. I knew how unconventional it was, the way she ended up at my house, but she hadn’t voiced any actual concern with it until now. The last thing I wanted was to make her upset or uncomfortable.

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