by H. M. Ward
“There’s not, you bunch of white toast with…” Mel sputters, trying to find the right insult, before giving up. Her hands slap the table. “You’re so dumb, you know that? Just ‘cuz I’m a hooker doesn’t mean I do everyone and everything.”
“What’s your type?” Sean asks abruptly.
“Rich.” Mel’s shoulders are back and tension lines her arms. It’s like she’s ready to fight, but I have no idea what set her off. She sleeps with guys and didn’t object to the idea of having a woman, assuming she’s loaded. Sean watches my friend, waiting for a real answer, but there’s no way in hell that she’ll tell him anything. Come to think of it, I’ve never heard much about her hopes and dreams, only that she doesn’t want to go back to the hellhole she climbed out of.
Mel rolls her eyes and laughs. The tension dissipates as she points at Sean. “And not you, Ferro. You’re way too fucked up for me. And this conversation is officially over. I’m gonna eat me some noodles. What do you guys say to take-out?”
“Actually, I have other plans for Avery and I.” Sean’s voice sounds scary, the way it does when he’s anxious. He looks down at me, “We have a table downstairs.”
I can’t help it and crack a smile. “Really?”
He nods. “Yes, there was something I needed to ask you earlier and I didn’t get the chance.”
I try not to show any emotion, but I can’t. I giggle and try so hard not to jump up and down. “I love this game!”
Mel groans, “Oh my God. Get out of here. You two make me sick.”
Sean smiles deeply and tosses Mel a room service menu. “Order anything you like.”
Mel is leaning her elbow on the desk and has her head in her hand. “Can I get another hooker, so I have someone to play chess with?”
If Sean’s shocked, he hides it well. His voice is flat. “No.”
“You’re no fun,” Mel pouts.
“I already hired two call girls for one evening. Many people would say that’s more than enough fun for one man.”
“Psh, whatever White Boy. Go play house with Avery. I’m going to order crab cakes and the seafood buffet for six people.”
I lean in towards Sean, “You’re going to need to order another room since this one will smell like fish.”
Sean laughs and takes my hands. “Order anything you like, Mel. I mean it. Come on, Avery. Our table awaits.”
Before we walk out of the room, Mel asks, “What about Black?”
Sean looks back at her, and then narrows his gaze in my direction. “There’s a more pressing question to be asked first, especially since it will demand a different response to your question of employment.”
CHAPTER 9
Every inch of my body is giddy with excitement. It’s to the point that I’m shaking and I can’t shut up. Ever since we stepped out of the room, I can’t stop smiling or talking. I take Sean’s hand and lean against his shoulder in the elevator. “Ask me,” I whisper, but there are other people in the small space. I know he won’t, but it’s fun to tease him.
Sean looks down at me from the corner of his eyes. He’s got that stern formal thing going on and I wish he’d slouch just a little bit. He can’t be nervous, can he? Surely Sean knows what I’m going to say. “You’re awfully quiet, Mr. Ferro.”
The couple standing across from us looks displeased. The woman’s face visibly contorts and her polished appearance isn’t enough to distract from her disgust. Sean sees it and tightens his jaw, but he says nothing.
The man standing with her looks unimpressed, and scoots closer to the woman, like Sean might go all cray cray on their pampered asses, and kill everyone before the elevator reaches the ground floor. I hate it. I hate the way they look at Sean, like he’s soulless. Sean Ferro is not a monster.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I can’t bite my tongue. I blurt it out. “Don’t look at him like that.”
The woman sneers at me. “Just because he’s wealthy doesn’t mean he should get away with murder. It was a massive injustice to Amanda Ferro and her family, and you are a fool to be standing so close to him.”
Sean doesn’t respond, he just stands there with his hands clasped in front of him, waiting for the doors to open. I don’t understand why he doesn’t fight back. They’re rude, and wrong.
Screw it. I step toward the woman and look her in the eye. “You don’t know a thing about Amanda or Sean Ferro, and you’re an idiot if you think everything you see on TV is true.”
Her jaw drops open and the man standing next to her pulls her closer, increasing the distance between us. His jaw opens like he’s going to say something, but the DING cuts him off and the doors open.
I take Sean’s hand and give them a lethal look as we walk out. “Stupidity is for the weak-minded, and you better not sit by us.”
Sean pulls me away and tucks my hand under his arm. He takes a deep breath. “Avery, you can’t yell at every person who hates me. First of all, the list is endless, and second, you can’t convince them of something they don’t want to hear.” Sean’s blue gaze rests on the side of my face and there’s something there, like he’s accepted this horrible public persona.
“Yeah, well…They’re stupid.” I’m a genius! That’s the problem, everyone else is dumb. People see what they want to see and nothing more. Everyone knows that the media is biased. They all hated that Sean didn’t cry, that he seemed inhuman during the trial. He’s more human than they realize, breakable like everyone else, but who wants to report on that? The idea that Sean Ferro is a monster sells better.
Sean’s voice is warm and kind. “They prefer to think of me as a villain. I’ve learned to live with it, the question is, can you?” He smiles softly and takes my hand as we reach the restaurant doors.
A smirk appears on my lips. I don’t want to drop this injustice, but Sean brings up the question again. I poke his chest, right over his heart. “That better not be what you were going to ask me.”
Sean’s eyes glitter, like he’s trying not to laugh. I love it when he’s like this. If I could figure out which mixture of annoying and innocent (or naïve) was conjuring that smile, I’d use it all the time.
“This way, Mr. Ferro.” The man behind the desk grabs two menus and walks us to the back of the room, past staring eyes, and to a perfect little table—the table where we had our first meal together. Awh.
I glance up at him as I sit in my chair. “Did you pick this table on purpose, Mr. Ferro?”
“I do everything on purpose.” Sean settles back into his chair and rests his hands on the arms like it’s a throne.
I mirror his posture. “Me too.” Sean laughs abruptly. I love that sound and the way he leans forward like it’s a horrible thing to witness. “Honestly, Mr. Ferro, I have no idea what you’re laughing about.” My voice is light, and teasing. “I’m a very intentional person, it’s just that my best intentions usually go awry.”
He laughs louder and actually twists in his seat. “Avery, you are a spectacular woman, but I cannot possibly imagine a world where you deliberately let your car be stolen, and then flashed traffic to jump on the back of a stranger’s bike.”
Grinning at him, I lift my water glass and take a sip before saying smugly, “I planned the whole thing. You fell into my elaborate trap.” I offer a soft, diabolical laugh and smirk at him.
Sean leans forward and takes my hands. “Do you ever wonder if you fell into mine?”
I make a face. “That wasn’t the right question, either. Ask me, Mr. Ferro.”
Sean is cradling my hands in his and staring into my eyes. My pulse races faster when he looks at me like that. He has this hypnotic stare that’s unnerving, and sexy as hell. Sean’s eyes dip to the table and then back to my face. My heart pounds harder and I can’t stop smiling. Part of me wants to squee up and down the hallway, but I need to act sane for a moment.
Sean’s lips part and I’m ready. My answer is ready. I’m so excited!
His eyes dip to the table. “Avery, I can’t
ask you now.”
CHAPTER 10
I blink. “Rich boy say what?”
He pats my hands and tips his head to the side. “Stop talking like a cartoon character, and listen. I wanted things to be a certain way, at a specific time. You’ll have to wait.” He pulls his hands away and leans back in his chair.
My bottom lip curls out and I’m pouting without meaning to. “I hate waiting.”
Sean just grins in response. He doesn’t produce the ring or mention marriage. There’s no talk like before, at the beach, no nothing. He’s stern and cold again. I don’t hide my disappointment. I can’t. It feels like I’ve been sucker punched one too many times and I can no longer pretend not to care. Sean ordered before we ever sat down. It would have irritated me if he didn’t get the most delicious food I’d ever put in my mouth. Sean is presumptive and it pisses me off, because this thing with the ring and the food, it’s to show how well he knows me and how well he can control me. Yeah, I want things like that sometimes, but not now.
After dinner, I’m leaning pretty far to my right, with my elbow on the table and my hand holding up my head. Think surly teenager. It’s not pretty but after this morning, I expected more from him. Sean has issues. Every time I feel like we’re on the same page, he does something like this. I’d cry if I weren’t so pissed off.
The waiter brings out our desserts and refills my champagne glass. For a moment, I wonder if he’s going to propose during dessert like a normal guy, but Sean would never hide the ring in something. He’s too straightforward for that. Since there’s no jewelry in sight, I’m doubting that there’s going to be a proposal tonight.
I poke at my dessert, but don’t really eat it. Sean notices. “Are you finished?” He’s been watching me from the other side of the table, quieter than usual. Or maybe I’m just steaming too much to be a good date.
“Yes,” I say, pushing away the plate. The truth is I’m a little crushed and feeling the post-Christmas crash, but I didn’t get any presents. It sucks monkeys. I can’t even pretend anymore. I glance around the room and wonder if anyone else is having a crappy night. The other couples look happy, like they’re celebrating something special. This place cost a small fortune, so it’s a treat to eat here. A bunch of the patrons probably blew a week’s pay on this dinner. Except for my man, Sean. He’s got lots of money and even more emotional PMS. God, he’s worse than I am. Maybe.
“Good, because I have a question for you.” I straighten in my seat a little bit and try not to let my balloon of hope inflate again. Seriously, that thing has been bent every which way and resembles a deflated knot right about now. Sean puts his fork down and folds his hands together. “Are you attending your graduation ceremony?”
My face scrunches up. “What?” Weird question.
“They asked me to give a lecture to the graduating class—to be the guest speaker—and I told them that I’d have to ask you.”
I lean on my elbow again and pick at the table cloth. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Why not?”
“There’s no one to hood me. You know, before you walk across the stage, someone puts the sashie thing over your head and rests it on your shoulders. My mom would have done it. Since she’s not here, I figured…” I look up into his face and see the fragility. Looking back down at the table, I say, “I don’t understand. Why do you want to hood me? You know you don’t actually get to tie me up, right?”
He nods, but doesn’t smile. Actually, it looks like I kicked him. “I know.”
“Then why?” I watch Sean as he taps his finger on the table and avoids my gaze.
“Because you sacrificed everything for that moment. If this isn’t fleeting, if I matter to you—”
Straightening in my seat, I finally say what I’m thinking. “Sean, why won’t you ask me?” He looks away and doesn’t answer. This isn’t a game anymore. I think he had every intention of asking me when we were upstairs, but something changed. There’s no pressing need to ask me anything. Sean’s sitting there like he always does. I try to stay calm and ask the question even though I already know the answer. “Did you change your mind?”
His blue gaze flicks up and meets mine. “No.”
Liar. “Just tell me the truth. Don’t hide behind that placid expression and let yourself feel for a second.”
“Let myself feel? Do you seriously think that’s the problem?”
“Not in its entirety, but I think a general lack of empathy is part of the problem.” That was a cheap shot, but it infuriates me when he acts so stoic. He can act that way with everyone else, but not with me.
Sean mashes his mouth shut and looks back and forth before leaning forward and blasting me. “Do you know what they’re going to say about you if you become Mrs. Sean Ferro? Do you seriously think that I haven’t thought about it? About how you’d take it when those insults are hurled at you? Avery, I’ve heard so many hateful things, day after day. I wish I could tell you that I don’t care, that they roll off like rain, but they don’t. You haven’t had to endure that kind of punishment and you’ve done nothing to warrant it, but marrying me will be enough. People will talk, they’ll be unkind toward you, and it will be my fault. If you carry my name, you carry my burdens.” He pats his napkin to his lips and looks like he just opened a checking account. There’s no emotion in those blue eyes, they’re vacant of grief and pain.
The hollow spot inside my chest constricts as I look away. He isn’t going to ask me. That little altercation in the elevator made him change his mind. Sean doesn’t think I can handle it. I’m not going to cry. Screw that. The center of my chest aches so badly that I speak without thinking. “So what, you don’t trust me with those burdens?”
“No, I want to save you from them. Unkind words are the nicest things that happen to me, Avery.” Sean acts like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. He just sits there in his chair like it’s a goddamn throne and watches me.
Maybe I could have accepted this a few weeks ago, but not now. If I get up and walk away, it’ll be the end of it. Sean won’t follow me. I smile at him as every hope dissolves inside my chest. I haven’t the words to tell him what he’s done to me, exactly what level of hell he just tossed me into.
So I say nothing. I simply stand, toss my napkin on the table, and walk away. I should have known better than to think Sean Ferro would actually ask me to share his life.
CHAPTER 11
That man took my heart and shredded it. I’ve walked away and there’s no going back. I don’t expect him to follow me or say a damn thing. He’s weird like that. He usually lets me wander off, swearing under my breath, and then shows up after I calm down. But not this time. Sean’s arm juts between the elevator doors as they close. “Avery, wait.”
The hollow feeling inside my chest is overflowing with pain and dripping into my shoes. I can’t look at him and pretend it doesn’t hurt. I’m a moron. I keep thinking the best of people. I never learn. I don’t say anything. I don’t look up.
He steps inside and we’re alone. The elevator starts to move upward toward our floor when Sean steps in front of the panel and pulls the STOP. We lurch to a halt and my heart tries to tear out of my chest. Panic makes my eyes dart around the dark little room as my palms slam backward into the wall, grasping at the rail like it can save me. I hate small spaces, and being trapped in an elevator is as bad as being nailed into a coffin. Sean knows that.
He finds me in the dim emergency lighting and slips his hands around my waist and tugs me to him. I try to pull away, but he won’t let me. Sean’s grip on me tightens and he pins me to the wall. “Never walk away from me again. You can be angry, but you can’t be indifferent.”
“You are!”
“I am not,” he’s close to growling. I can tell that I’m poking every button he has, but I’m tired of his games. Every time we get closer, he turns and runs. It’s driving me crazy, and since I’m already certifiable, I’m not handling it gracefully.
“You are
so! You don’t care about me. I’m just another trinket to you—something to own and play with. I don’t matter to you!”
“Avery, I’d give my life for you. Why can’t you understand that I can’t have what I want either? I want you to be my wife. I want what you want. Do you hear me? I want to marry you. I want you in every conceivable means, but I can’t be so callous. It’ll destroy you, my love, and I can’t do that.” His hands are in my hair and I can feel his hard body against mine.
I can barely speak, my throat is so tight. This tiny box is suffocating me to the point that I’m thinking about clawing at the walls. But his words cut through the fear and I hear his concern, even if I still don’t understand. “You didn’t have to stop the elevator.”
“I’m sorry. I knew you wouldn’t listen otherwise. Avery, I want a life for us—one with the little house and the picket fence—but that’s not what’s in store for me. I am the Ferro they fear most and they have every right to act that way. My hands aren’t clean, Avery. I’m not above reproach, and I have too many enemies. Things will never be so simple. God, and if you took my name, if they knew about you…” His voice trails off and he sighs deeply, burying his face in the curve between my neck and shoulder. Hot breath spills across my skin, raising goose bumps.
My entire body is strung tight, but his lips where they are make my stomach twist and tingle. Maybe it’s fear that makes me think of his mouth on me, doing sinful things, but the thought of wrapping my legs around his hips blazes through my mind. The moment is charged with tension and vulnerability, at least it is for me. I press my lips together several times, before I can manage the words. “Ask me. Give me the chance to choose my life.”
As the words pour from my lips, I reach for him and splay my hands on his chest, under the lapel of his jacket. My heart is beating so hard, so fast. I think about his mouth on mine and hot kisses, but worry is holding me back.
