Page 218 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

Chapter 48

Monday and Tuesday, and even part of Wednesday, I was way too subby and happy to even consider calling myself a brat. Every time Reuben walked past me, he’d look at me with that knowing, passionate look, his eyes darting down to my lips or dragging over my body like he was so damn proud of himself that he was the one who owned me. Every time I found my back turned to him, I’d feel his hand on the back of my neck or my hip as he walked by.

He made good on his word about water, and called me into the kitchen on Monday afternoon. “I made you something. Give this a try.” He handed me a glass of something pink.

I sniffed at it and sipped. It was still water for sure, but it had a light fruity taste, and just a hint of sweetness. It tasted a little like a smoothie. I found myself smiling.

“Good?”

I nodded, happily, and took another sip. “What is it?”

“Fruit tea. Completely decaffeinated, made with herbs, dried fruit, and nuts, and some Honeybush tea. You can drink as much of it as you want.”

“Really?” I asked, excited.

“Yes. And it counts as your water for the day.”

I rocked back and forth in excitement as I took another sip. It wasn’t very sweet, but it wasn’t awful. It was his thoughtfulness that made me all warm and fuzzy, though. I set the cup down and threw my arms around him. “Thank you, Sir.”

Later that day when I went to the fridge to get myself another glass, I added a splash of the simple syrup he kept in the fridge for mixed drinks. Just a little extra sweetness.

Oh yeah. Much better.

He was working from home most of the week, though he was making daily morning visits to The Weston House. During one trip, I decided to get clever and boil some water to make some more simple syrup, and I added it right to the container so he wouldn’t catch me adding it. He was happy I was drinking water, and it tasted even more like a smoothie with a little bit of extra sugar in it, so we were both happy. I washed and dried the pot before he came back.All his cooking lessons were paying off. I didn’t even catch anything on fire.

Wednesday afternoon he was on his laptop, and I sat in the armchair behind his desk typing on the extra laptop he’d dug up for me while he worked on a conference call. He needed someone to manage his calendar, and since I was an Outlook Whisperer, I’d told him I could help him out. I set his email up on my laptop and was going through his emails and setting up appointments for him while I listened to him chat with the guy on the other line.

“So, what we usually do is have you come down for about a week,” Reuben was saying. “We’ll put you up in a hotel and take care of your meals for the time you’re here. You’ll come by the center and have dinner with the girls and meet a few of them. Myself and a few of the other employees will see if we can feel out who might be a good fit for you. Then you’ll meet them one-on-one a few times, and we’ll reassess until we find the right placement.

“You are a little farther away than we prefer, but I do have several recommended therapists in your area, so you would be responsible for continuing her therapy sessions, her medical appointments, and so on. We check in with both of you three times a week for the first month, and then once a week for the second month. After that we reassess how often we do check-ins. We visit in-person once every six months.”

“How long do the girls tend to stay with the caretakers,” the man asked.

“It depends. The average is about three years. Although some have stayed for much longer, and others have bailed the first chance they got. A few have asked to come back to the center, though that doesn’t happen often.

“I think that about wraps it up. Do you have any other questions for me?” Reuben asked.

“Actually, I had many, but you have clearly had this conversation enough times to answer all of them. There is one thing I wondered...” the man on the computer hesitated, attempting to figure out how to phrase his question.

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