Page 68 of Heartless Boss
“Sure.” His eyes widen and he stuffs the money in his front pocket. He gets on his skateboard and heads down the hill. I get back in my car and tap my fingers on the leather steering wheel. After sitting here for an hour, I gather my wits, get out of the car, and walk across the street.
I knock on the door five times until a short woman with chestnut hair down to her shoulders cracks the door open. She’s the spitting image of Gia, and I do a double-take. Her hands shake like leaves and faint black and blue marks cover her eyes. She bows her head in a submissive stance.
“Can I help you, sir?” Blood seeps between the cracks of her lips. her skin is white as a piece of paper, and she’s thinner than a supermodel, like she hasn’t had a nourishing meal in years. Her cheekbones are sunken in. Ryan needs to pay for what he does to women. There’s a special place in hell for him.
“Where’s Ryan Jackson?” I ask.
Instead of responding, she begins to close the door, so I shove my foot in the crack, and she slams it on my foot. I bite down hard on my bottom lip as I grunt.
“I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to speak to men.” Her voice is hoarse and meek.
“He’s beating you, isn’t he?” I say, through clenched teeth.
She flinches at my words but doesn’t answer my question. Instead, her eyes bounce between the door and the driveway.
“Did Ryan send you here to test me?” She rubs her nose. “Please, tell him that I didn’t speak to you.”
I shove the door open, and she takes a step back. Eyes filling with horror, she studies my hand closely as I grab my wallet slowly and shove a wad of cash into her hand.
“That’s three grand. Do you have a car?”
She shakes her head as her eyes narrow on the Benjamins, examining them like foreign objects she’s never seen before.
I grab my phone from my front pocket and call her a taxi. I text my pilot to have my private plane ready, then text Logan telling him that I’m sending a woman to him and the details of the flight and to get her set up in an apartment in my building.
“The taxi will take you to a private airport and a guy named Logan will pick you up after the flight. He’ll set you up with an apartment and give you what you need.”
“He’ll find me,” she whispers.
“No, he won’t. My girlfriend used to date him. She got out, you can too. I promise he won’t hurt you anymore.” Yeah, that’s what Gia is. My girlfriend, my one and only. It sounds weird saying it out loud.
“Is her name Gia?”
I nod.
“He talks about her all the time, compares me to her. My hair is not even brown, it’s blond—it looks almost white. He made me dye it this color, so I can look like her. I hate the color brown.”
She studies my face, then tears well in her eyes and trickle down her pale cheeks.
“I worked at his restaurant as a waitress a few years ago, saving up money to go to Hollywood to become an actress, to get out of the dumpy apartment I was living in. Ryan convinced me to stay here with him because he loved me, but he was making me a carbon copy of Gia, making me cook and bake like her.” She wipes the tears from her eyes. “Calling her name while we have sex. He wanted me quiet like her, but I’m not. I’m a chatterbox. And I hate cooking. I hate wearing bright colors. My favorite color is tan. And, I’m not a homebody either. I like to party and barhop. I like to sew dresses. You see that, right? That I’m not her. That we’re different?”
I nod, and she smiles sadly.
“I don’t have any anger toward Gia, by the way. It’s just he puts her on a pedestal, that she’s so great and I can’t measure up to her.”
The taxi pulls up the driveway and honks.
She wraps her arms around my waist, and I pat her head like she was a cute puppy.
“Thank you so much! I feel so free.” She lets me go and pushes me out of the way.
“You’re not going to grab a few things?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want anything that will remind me of him.”
She rushes to the cab like she’s running for dear life. She takes one last look at me, waving at me before getting in the car. I nod, then I move to the living room, sit into the pale blue recliner, and wait for this motherfucker to show up.
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