I plopped back down on the bed, my mouth loosely parted. The pillows billowed around my head.
“I don’t understand you at all,” I said.
“What do you want? You don’t want to work as a waitress forever, do you?”
“Well, no, but—” I stammered.
“Then think of this as a gift to help you along to something you actually want to do. You want to make art. Whatever you need to pay your bills, you can have. It’s fine.”
“I can’t just take your money,” I said. I felt like I was speaking another language to him. Like we were tribes from opposite sides of the world, and money had a different meaning.
“The money doesn’t make any difference to me,” he said gently. “And it obviously makes a difference to you. So take it and use it.”
I slumped back against the pillows, looking toward the ceiling. I breathed in and out. It was weird. I actually felt rested. I didn’t remember ever feeling like I’d gotten enough sleep before.
“This is ridiculous,” I said.
“You’re ridiculous for being so stubborn. Will you take the money?”
I looked at him and opened my mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again. Then closed it again. He obviously wasn’t going to give in, and I obviously wasn’t going to get out of this bed without him letting me take his money. I sighed.
“Yes. Fine. Thank you,” I said. “I… I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I just don’t… I’ve never been offered anything like this before.”
I swallowed hard, clutching the covers under my fingers.
“You’re welcome,” he said gently.
“So. Uh. Dinner?” I asked, echoing his words from before.
“If you would like. Lacey, I didn’t realize… you’re younger than I expected. I’ll understand if you want to take the check and leave.”
I shook my head, my cheeks flushing. I’d been called young my whole life. I’d gotten a fake ID when I was thirteen so that I could work with my brothers at the neighboring farms. Everyone knew, but the money was under the table and it was an excuse for the people who were hiring me.
When I moved to New York City, the fake ID came in very handy. I didn’t try to get into bars with it, but bar work—that was a different story. At twenty-one, I’d done more bartending jobs that most thirty year old bartenders I knew.
“If it’s about the money… if you need more, I can give you more. It’s no problem.”
I should have taken it. Just grabbed the check and ran. It was a year’s rent, and I could scrounge up another job without too much trouble. Even in this economy, a young girl could make her way as a bartender in NYC.
But I didn’t want to go. I was curious. I—I wanted to have dinner with him.
“I’ll stay,” I said, shrugging in what I hoped was a casual manner. “I came back here, didn’t I?”
“Are you sure? I won’t ask you again, Lacey. You’ve already gotten two second chances with me. Most don’t receive that luxury.”
I saw his throat muscles tighten. Another glimmer in his eye. God, he was attractive. I didn’t care if he was more than ten years older than me. He looked like he had more than taken care of himself over those ten years. His muscles were broad, his chin dark with stubble. His mouth—
I tore my eyes away from his beautiful face.
“Yes,” I said, staring down at his belt. Leather, with a silver buckle that reflected the decor of the room. As he stood up, I watched the reflection shift, twisting me along with the rest of the bed inside of it.
His hand reached out. Mindlessly, I took it. He pulled me up from the bed and I stood in front of him.
“God. Lacey, you’re beautiful,” he said breathlessly. His eyes were palpable as they moved down over my skin.
My paint-spattered skin.
“I have to wash up before I get dressed for dinner,” I said.
“I know. The bathroom is just this way.” He gestured, tugging my hand so that I would walk over with him.
“I can figure out how to work a shower,” I said, a bit irritated. I was young, but I wasn’t a child.
“I know you can. But this week, you’re mine, and you will follow my orders.” His hand clamped down on my wrist and I followed him.
Mine. The word coming out of his mouth sounded like a cage around me. A gilded cage, shiny and new, decorated with the most beautiful ornaments.
A cage I wanted to be in.
Chapter Six
Jake let my wrist go and stepped forward into the bathroom.
The room itself was all white marble, but the tub looked as though it had been carved out of a huge slab of volcanic rock—it was black, and as he turned the faucets on, white steam rose from the splashing water.