Page 111 of Slumming It
He looked utterly unashamed. "What doyouthink?"
"I'll tell you exactly what I think. I think you've been rich for so freaking long that you've gotten pretty darn used to waving around a bunch of money and watching people jump whenever you say."
His mouth opened to reply, but I cut him off. "And don't even say it."
"Say what?"
Suddenly I felt like crying. "That the whole money-waving thing worked onme, too, because I know darn well that it did. And it's not something I'm proud of."
My voice softened as my head filled with fading memories. "But just so you know, I didn't sleep with you because of the money. I slept with you because you were really nice."
"Nice?" His jaw clenched. "I told you up-front that I'm not. You remember, right?"
I was remembering a lot of things. Even now, I could recall how he'd held me while I'd slept – and what an amazing lover he'd turned out to be. I remembered his smile and how he'd stuck up for me when nobody else would.
I recalled how he'd made me feel, not just during that night, but on the morning after. Even in spite of the vast gulf between us, he hadn't acted like he was "slumming it" at all. He'd actually been pretty terrific. He'd even listened to me gripe about Jason. He'd acted like he truly cared.
I was still lost in the memories when his voice, harder now, snapped me out of my daydream. "Don't tell me you forgot."
My chin lifted. "I'm not forgetting anything."
"Good. So don't claim to be surprised."
My brain felt muddled and confused as I tried to reconcile my hero from the other night with the jerk in the driver's seat. "By what?"
"By me turning out to be a regular asshole like everyone says." He waited a good, long beat before adding, "Including me."
A regular asshole? What a joke.There was nothing regular abouthim. But saying so would be giving him far too much credit. I tried to scoff in return, but it came out more like a sob. "Hey,yousaid it, not me." I looked toward the passenger's side door. "Now if you'll excuse me, it's way past my bedtime."
His voice softened. "Emily…"
I turned back to him. "Don't 'Emily' me. You know exactly how you're treating me, and I'm telling you flat-out, I'm not gonna put up with it."
His gaze grew troubled. "Baby, come on."
But now, I was so far gone that he could've called me the love of his life, and I hardly would have noticed. I gave another scoff. "Earlier, you said I should have called you when those customers were hassling me. Butyou'rethe one forgetting something."
He shook his head. "What?"
"Icouldn’tcall you."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't even have your number. And you know what? That's fine by me. So why don't you go back to wherever you came from and leave me and my town alone."
And with that, I pushed open the car door and stalked off toward my own rusted beater parked several rows away. I didn't even bother to close the Ferrari's door, because I was absolutely sure that I would end up slamming it, and there was no way on Earth that I would let myself be responsible for any damages.
Asshole.
He'd said so himself, right?
I was maybe halfway to my car when a massive man in a baseball cap jumped out from God-knows-where and started flashing a camera in my face. Blinded by the light and my own brimming tears, I stumbled forward and tripped over my own two feet. I put out my hands, but not nearly quick enough to stop the fall.
With a little cry, I face-planted right there in the parking lot even as the camera above me kept on flashing. I rolled over and yelled, "Just get away from me, will you?"
Just then, Reese appeared above me and lunged for the camera. It was a real camera, too, not a glorified cellphone. I knew this because the camera scuttled across the pavement and stopped a few paces away when it thudded against the oversized tire of a big dark pickup.
And then Reese was right there, beside me. He lifted me up and gathered me into his arms. Where the other guy went, I had no idea. All I could sense was strong arms gathering me close and soothing sounds whispered in my ear.
