"Lots."
"Lots by your standards or mine?"
"I'll show you," I say, standing, "If you can stomach walking through my house to get there."
"What are you talking about?"
"Come with me and you'll see."
Skye takes my offered hand and I lead her through my house and into the home office I dedicate to my charity. The walls are lined with photos of people the charity has helped, along with all the awards it's won.
I'm not sure why I'm showing her this room. The only other people who have seen it are my sisters. When I first told her to come with me, I wanted to show her up, to stop her anti-rich bullshit. But by the time we're halfway down the hall, I realize it's not that. I want her to like me, to approve of me. And know me.
"Don't tell me, it's your own charity," she says, looking at me sideways. Figures she wouldn't approve of a rich person's charitable foundation.
"Of course. I want to be sure the maximum amount of money is reaching the people I want to help."
While I stand still and watch, she examines the photos on the wall nearest her, walking along the wall after she's satisfied with each one. When she comes to an award, she reads out the certificate.
"The Heywood Foundation. It doesn't say who all these people are." She pauses. "Cancer?"
"Orphans," I say, smirking.
"Ah, orphans. Of course. Everyone wants to help the orphans."
"Actually, you're wrong. Everybody feels for an orphan, but there's a shocking lack of actual help. My foundation helps by providing counseling, income support, scholarships, funding to keep siblings together, apprenticeships, vacation camps. You name it, we provide it. I give the charity half of my profits, and that will increase once Kelso goes."
"How noble." It's impossible not to notice the sarcasm in her voice.
"Don't you want to know why orphans? Why not all the other good causes in the world?"
"Okay, I'll bite," she says returning to me and grabbing my hand.
I take her to the far wall, to a photo of my two sisters and me standing in front of a huge group of people of all ages.
My breathing is shallow. I've shared my story a thousand times at events for my charity, but I've never spoken about this to a person in private before.
"This is a photo of all the orphans I've helped."
Skye squints her eyes as she examines it.
"Isn't that your sister?" she asks, pointing to Julie.
"Yeah, she's the first orphan I ever helped."
Skye's eyes widen. She swallows as she moves all her attention from the photo to me.
My eyebrows arch and I shrug. "My parents were killed in a car accident when I was sixteen. There weren't any relatives to take us in, so I quit school to support my two younger sisters." Though her face falls as I talk, I carry on.
"When I left school, I got a job as a hotel bellhop. I did every job at the hotel, from valet parker to bookkeeping. It ended up being an amazing apprenticeship. By the time I turned twenty-one, I had so much experience, I was ready to open my own hotel. But I didn't have any money. That's when I met Kelso."
She shudders when I say his name. So do most people who've met him.
"He proposed building the hotel for a cut of the profits. Sounded great to me, it was the only way I'd ever be able to have my own hotel. It was a massive success, so Kelso kept on building them and I kept on running them. Until I got fed up with the asshole."
"That's why you're splitting?"
"Yeah. I should've done it years ago."
Skye pushes her body close to mine, wraps her arms around me and nuzzles her face against my T-shirt. I smooth her hair back and kiss the top of her head.
"I don't know what to say." She looks up at me, her eyes welling with tears.
"Say you know Kelso's a fucking asshole and you're not going back there."
"I meant about you, not him."
"Then say you know I'm right about Kelso, and that you're not going back there."
A tear escapes her eye and she says, "About your parents. It's heartbreaking."
"It was half my lifetime ago now."
"That doesn't make a difference. How can that sort of trauma ever go away?"
"Life presses on. The world keeps spinning, and you have no choice but to spin with it."
"Spinning doesn't mean leaving your trauma behind."
"Maybe. Maybe not." I clear my throat. There are some things in life that I don't want to think about.
"I can't imagine what must've been going on in your head."
"The only thing going through my head was taking care of my sisters."
"But who took care of you?"
"Me," I push out through my constricted throat.
Skye grazes my cheeks with her fingers, silent tears still dragging down her pretty face. I hate making her cry. Maybe I'm being too cold to her. Does she even understand what a big deal telling her all this shit is? This wasn't at all how I thought it would be. Why can I give all these speeches about it to roomfuls of people with ease, but telling her feels like I'm ripping my fucking ribcage open?
All I can do is squeeze her tighter. To drink in the comfort her body against mine brings. We stand like that until her breathing slows and the tightness in my throat lessens.
"Sorry for giving you a hard time," she says, wiping away her tears.
"I'm not sorry for giving you a hard time last night."
Before she can call me an idiot, I press my lips against her and kiss her hard enough to forget everything I've just told her.
Exposed
(Skye)
We'd ended up in a room near the charity room he showed me. Our clothes are wherever, scattered between here and there. It's a cozy room, with a couch and fireplace. I suppose it's just another room of several in his mansion. It's difficult to know if it even has a purpose or gets used.
We're on the couch, my naked body draped across his, his fingers playing with my hair.
It was different this time, when he'd entered me. This time he was gentle and tender. I'm sure I felt the pain he's been carrying around inside him. Instead of the frantic build of tension, there was a steady welling until my body quivered in his arms.
Having lost his parents so young is terrible, but having to drop out of school and become a parent to his sisters is heartbreaking. It must've traumatized him. No matter how much he tried to play it cool, I know it bothered him, I could tell by the tightening in his jaw.
"Do you ever talk to anyone about what happened to your parents?"
"Nope." He exhales sharply.
"Why not?"
"Why would I?"
"I don't know." Because it's a horrible situation that you shouldn't have had to bear on your own.
"I talked to you about it." He did? He showed me the charity, he thinks that's talking about it?
"I'm glad you showed me your room. It's really amazing that you help so many kids."
Lawson shrugs.
"Did anyone help you?"
"Not a fucking soul."
I press my body against his. As much as I want to know more, to know everything about him, he isn't very forthcoming with the details. It's difficult to know how much I can push the subject.
"Well, I think your charity is amazing, truly."
"I'm glad I have your approval."
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Give me your sarcasm."
"Come up here and kiss me."
Lawson drags my body up his chest. I scramble to move and end up straddling him. With his hands knitted through my hair, he pulls my lips to his and kisses me.
"Didn't we just do this?"
"Doesn't matter, I could never get enough of your lips."
I press my forehead against his and smile.
"I never thought I'd hear that from a rich fu … " I stop dead, I didn't mean to call him that.
"A rich fuck?"
"Fucker, actually."
"I'm definitely a fucker, especially to you." I throw my head back and laugh.
"This is true. If only ‘getting fucked by the rich' meant the way I do."
"It's like that, is it? So what do you do to help the less fortunate, besides sit around and bitch with your artist friends?"
I'm not sure how to react, my body is stuck halfway between laughing and being offended.
"It's hard to change the world when I have no power," I say, sitting up straight.
Lawson's hands move to my breasts, and he says, "You have no power, so you hate the people who have power, even when they're trying to change the world?"
I can't respond to his comment. Especially because his thumbs are circling my nipples. His eyes bore into them, brightening when my nipples harden. I throw my body back against his.
"Hey, I was enjoying myself."
"You were distracting me."
His hand slides up my back and grips my head, pulling it to his lips and kissing me softly.
"From what?"
"Talking." Our lips are close as I speak.
"What were we talking about?" His lips graze mine.
"You were telling me about your life."
"What else do you want to know?"
"How the hell you ended up with so much money when you started out the way you did."
"I busted my ass."
"Did you have family money?"
"If I had family money, do you think I would've dropped out of high school?"
"It's amazing that someone like you built up all you did." I want to tell him he's amazing, but the words didn't come out that way.