Page 24 of The Rich One

Even my lips are chapped.

I’m so far removed from looking like an escort that I ask myself if maybe I should look for another career. Another path.

“Rose.” Tyler’s commanding voice pulls me out of my musings and has my eyes focusing on anything but the reflection in the mirror.

“Yes, sorry. I was reading something.” It’s not really a lie, I was reading my features, making sure I’m okay. Checking on myself.

Because that’s what responsible fucking adults do.

“So, we’re agreed?”Oh fuck.

“Um, I kinda zoned out there for a second, Tyler. I’m sorry, what did you ask?” The billionaire CEO hates repeating himself but he does anyway, and I can hear the frustration in his voice tinged with a bit of concern. This is not me. I’m a fucking professional and I need to get my shit together.

“I need you here tomorrow night, and then next week for a charity golf event. Can you fit me in?” How could I deny him? Just those two nights are going to almost make up for the week off.

“Of course.” I sigh, knowing he’s going to have questions I cannot answer as soon as he sees my wound.

“Good. I’ll have my car pick you up at six. No need to go all out for tomorrow night. It’s just us, but I need to blow off some steam.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be ready.”

We hang up with plans all ready to go.

The shower is long and hot. I stand under the powerful jet of water for long minutes, like I’m washing away my sorrow and my pain. Like the water is cleansing me of my sins and the wrongs done to me. Like I’ll be walking away brand fucking new.

It’s all a lie, an illusion, of course. But it doesn't matter. I need it. I need to feel reborn so I can walk out of this apartment not feeling like the goddamn victim I am.

No, not a victim.

I’m a fucking survivor.

* * *

The next day, I’m stopped at the steps of my building just before the car arrives.

“Miss River, let me look atchou.” I knew this was coming.

“Hi, Mr. Bobby. Been awhile.” Shit, he’s got that look in his eyes and now I’m praying for the car to get here fast so I can have an excuse to get the fuck out of dodge.

“You alright? I’m not the kinda man who’s up in people’s business but you didn’t look right the other day.” Oh, this sweet man. I suppose that night my feelings were out front and center.

“Yes, just a little misunderstanding. You know, affairs of the heart and all.” He doesn’t look convinced but luck is on my side when the car quietly pulls up to the curb.

“River?” I turn expectantly at the concern lining the big man’s voice. Looking at him with his scruffy beard that, with a little tender loving care, could give Santa Claus a run for his money, I notice his eyes don’t hold his usual laugh lines. He’s serious and worried, and I feel the need to reassure him.

“Mr. Bobby, I promise—” He cuts me off, his voice low and hard.

“Is he hurting you? I saw blood, River.”

Oh my God.

The shock must be visible because his hard tone softens.

“Okay, okay. Just promise me you will tell me if you ever need help. I won’t take no for an answer.” Well, I guess that settles that.

I take two steps back toward him, where he always sits, day in and day out, and kiss him on the cheek. “I promise, Mr. Bobby.”

He takes my hand and squeezes it—a pointed look my way—like he’s reiterating his previous words.

---