Page 169 of Breaking the Rules

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Chapter Twenty-Five

Emma

It should be easier working my second job schilling lingerie, but it's not.

It's slow.

My thoughts keep flitting back to Hunter.

I want to hate him.

I'm trying, so hard, to hate him.

But my heart isn't in it.

I focus on fixing the displays in the front of the store. The newest one is particularly beautiful. A black chemise with lace cups and sides and a matching thong.

Classy. Elegant. Upscale.

It's interesting, seeing what different women pick out.

Sheer white chiffon for a honeymoon.

Slick red satin for a girl's night out.

Soft pink lace for a date with a smart, worldly guy.

It's there, in the sale rack—the lingerie set I bought for Vinnie.

Really, it was for me. Lingerie is always for women, so we can feel better about ourselves. Men appreciate it, sure, but they can't tell the difference between La Perla and H&M.

This bra and panty seemed elegant. Mature. Subtle.

Like the kind of women he'd want.

When we flirted, it was never compliments about my tits. It was teasing about art or music or wine.

I was in over my head, pretending I knew what he was talking about, but I didn't care.

I was so into him.

I loved that he was older. That he was wiser. That he was a consultant with a schedule that had him traveling constantly.

I felt important the first time he invited me over.

I dressed up in my fancy new lingerie and a classic black sheath.

He cooked this fancy Halibut dinner and poured glass after glass of wine.

Then it was dessert and cocktails.

Amaretto and vodka and vanilla cake.

I drank too much.

Got fuzzy.

It all blurs together now.

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