Page 18 of The Gambler's Prize
“Then, if you know what’s good for your health, shut the fuck up.”
“Yes, Boss.”
He goes quiet. I lie still, listening to the rain. There isn’t another sound out of Florian until I hear his breathing settle into the gentle rhythm of sleep.
Chapter 8
Florian
The morning after my boss’s nightmare, he’s embarrassed to look at me. For a man like him showing any weakness is a shame. I pretend not to notice that he’s even quieter than usual as I cook some eggs. It felt weird, holding him so tenderly last night. The fact that he allowed it was even weirder. His torso felt like a barrel of iron. The evidence of his power should scare me: I’ve been indentured to a bad-tempered man with the strength ofa machine who hates me. But, on the other hand, he let me stay with him. We slept in the same bed until morning. When I woke up he’d disappeared, but he hadn’t kicked me out. I’m not sure what that means. If anything.
If I’m going to be stuck here for two years, it’ll be easier if I can get on Grimes’ good side. Last night was a start. Slipping into bed with him wasn’t a tactic: I did feel sorry for him. His nightmare screams burst through the wall between our rooms, waking me. His suffering was real, and I really wanted to comfort him. But it gave me an idea. Maybe I should try to get closer to him. He didn’t push me out of bed. He even let me put my arm around him. He didn’t seem totally disgusted by touching me. Maybe I can work on that angle. I’m not good at many things, but seduction is one of them.
He’s wearing his glasses for reading right now, scowling at something in the newspaper. The glasses make him look handsome in a different way than usual. Still strong and silent, but more reflective, measured. Like a thinking man. I like how they look on him.
I wonder if I could make them steam up.
“Boss, have you ever had a valet?” I say.
He looks surprised, as if that’s the last thing he expected me to say, but recovers and snorts with disdain.
“What do you think?” he says. “Do I look like I have?”
I step closer. Sashay closer, if you will.
“I could be your valet,” I say. “It’d make you feel like a fine gentlemen.”
He scoffs, takes a step back. “I feel fine enough already, thank you.”
“I could help you dress and… all that.”
“You won’t be helping me dress, Florian,” he says.
“I don’t mean likeunderwearand stuff. Just the final touches.”
“What final touches?” He glances down at himself. “It’s pretty easy to put on my cloak.”
“Yeah, about that,” I say. “You still haven’t told me why you wear that cloak every day.”
“Well spotted.”
“You aren’t planning to?”
“Nope.” He sits down on a chair and grabs his work boots, ready to put them on, like he’s bored by the direction of the conversation.
“Wait,” I say. “Let me show you what’s it’s like to have a valet. Let me put those on for you.”
“It’s really not necessary,” he says. He glances at me quickly. “I supposeyouhad a valet back in Rhennes?”
“Of course. A great guy. He always made sure I looked my absolute best before a night out.”
“A deeply meaningful calling,” Grimes mutters.
“I thought so,” I say cheerfully, ignoring the sarcasm.
Grimes grumbles under his breath. I can’t even make out the words. Probably something about me being annoying. He sounds like a mini thunderstorm. Though it means he’s exasperated with me, the sound itself isn’t unpleasant. It’s so deep and low and masculine, rumbling from the very center of him.
I drop softly to my knees and look up at him. His eyes get wide, his face still.
