"You paid all of them off," I say, my voice taut.
He nods, as if there's nothing wrong with it. "I consider it an investment in the future of my company. We both know that your place is with me at the firm."
My mouth is dry. "Did you ever mean for me to find out?"
"Does it matter?" He shrugs. "It's the same result. Don't worry, I made a point of giving the money to the charitable divisions of all the companies. I figured that if you found out, the money would help you let go and get this charity kick out of your system."
"This charity kick is what I want to do. Not that you've cared to listen to that for the past four years I was working on my degree."
"And when you're my age and well established, if you still feel that burning need," he scoffs, "feel free. It will be your company by then. For now, you're twenty-two, my daughter, you live in my house, I paid for your education, and you're going to work for me."
I grit my teeth. "You can't make me do this. You can't force me."
"Really?"
"Yes," I say, straightening. "There are other options. Other places I can go."
My father leans back in his chair with an infuriating smile. "Where, exactly, would you go? To whatever slum your poor boyfriend lives in?" My mouth falls open and he grimaces. "You thought I didn't know that you've been slumming it with one of the caretakers? Letting him fuck you all over our property? You can be sure he'll never work for us again."
So this is speechlessness. My father doesn't stop speaking.
"And what would you do instead?" he asks. "The entire architecture community knows that I want you to work for me. No one will want to get on my bad side by hiring you now, and you're trained for nothing else. You start on Monday. See you at nine sharp."
He gets up from behind his desk and comes around it, stopping in front of me. "I suggest you take this weekend to think very carefully about your future, Vera. Because if you're not in my office on Monday morning, don't bother coming back to this house."
I gape at him, unable to combat the fact that he's ignoring everything but his own logic. He's going to disown me if I disobey. I can't believe this is happening. I turn and storm out of the office, brushing past my mother who is watching from the door. There's a look of shock on her face, and I hear her voice mixing with my father's as I sprint down the stairs.
I go outside, unable to be in the house for a single second longer. I go to my garden, my refuge, and I scream at the top of my lungs. It feels so good that I do it again, louder, and then I collapse onto the bench.
I've always used this garden as a refuge, as a safe haven. There is no other place that I would even think to go. Except for the fact that it doesn't feel the same, and this isn't where I want to be-the shock that I want to be with James comes just as strongly as the desire to be in his arms. I don't question it. I can't. Instead I run out of the garden and toward the back of the property. He was working on the hedges, I remember. There are so many that's probably what he's still doing.
I'm right. In the back corner, I find him. The shears are in his hands and he looks so at ease that I start to cry before I even reach him. He sees me coming toward him and has the good sense to drop the shears to the ground before I jump into his arms. He crushes me in his embrace, and I'm sobbing because now I can and someone else will hold me. Tears are pouring out of me because it's not fair. His voice is in my ear asking me what happened and if I'm alright, asking me what's wrong.
Somehow I find my voice and tell him. I tell him everything about how my father ruined my chances for this job, and every other job I've applied to this summer. That he knows about us. That I never thought he'd do this to me. That he's going to disown me if I don't obey.
James doesn't say anything, instead holding me against him. When I've finished, he releases me long enough to take off his thick gloves and drop them on the ground. Then he scoops me up in his arms and starts walking.
"Where are we going?"
"I'm taking you home. To my home."
I put my hand on his chest and try to get down, but he's not having it. "What about the work? What about Mike?"
James snorts, "The property is immaculate, and I'm sure the hedges can survive another couple of days before Mike comes back. And if your father sees me and tells me to stay, I'm going to tell him that it's going to cost him two million dollars."
I laugh through my tears and let James carry me away.
14
Vera
James barely gives me time to grab my things. He's almost more eager to be out of the house than I am, but I'm not going to spend this weekend in my pajamas either. I throw my small suitcase on the bed and gather what I need: underwear, jeans, a few t-shirts, contingency clothes, my toiletries, laptop and phone. I look around, and even though I'm only grabbing things for the weekend, there's nothing I really want to take with me. It all just seems like stuff. My now-old room is filled with meaningless stuff.
I zip up the suitcase and hand it to James, at the last second grabbing my portfolio. Then we're out of the house and into his car and I feel like I can breathe again. I open the window and close my eyes. The noise of the wind and traffic, the feeling of the air on my face, it all distracts me from rethinking everything. The breeze steals me away from reliving my father's words over and over again. Or at least I try to pretend that they're not popping into my head every other second that passes.
There's a brush of skin on the back of my hand as James gently takes it in his. He doesn't say anything, but even that small gesture is enough for me. He's taking me home. To his home.
I ignore the way my stomach drops into a nervous free fall. I know it shouldn't feel like such a big thing. Plenty of people who date see each other's houses right from the start. But still, it feels like a big thing. I feel my pulse rise, and I get more nervous about this. Do I want it to be a big thing? Is it possible for something to grow between two people so quickly? I guess it doesn't matter if it's possible-it happened-how, I'm not sure … it was just supposed to be sex …
I squeeze his hand and feel him squeeze back. The warm feeling returns to the pit of my stomach, and I'm very grateful that he's more than just sex. I'm not sure how long it is that we drive, or even where we're going. I keep my eyes closed and try to relax. I'm not very successful, but the movement of the road is soothing.
When the car finally comes to a stop I blink open my eyes, squinting against the sun. We're in the driveway of a beautiful two-story house. It has a classic design, but it's painted a pale gray with crisp white trim that lends it a modern edge. A beautiful oak tree stands in the front yard, tall and full-canopied. It's a testament to how long this house has been here. I remember its history, how James inherited it from his benefactor.
James grabs my suitcase from the back and takes my hand again, leading me inside. The interior is also cool and pale, with very current style lines that make me think he's remodeled it. James disappears down the hall with my suitcase, and I wander after him.
I see the way he put his living room together so it's light and open. It feels so inviting that I sit down on the couch while looking around. He has a minimalist eye for detail that I find really appealing. Not the first thing I would have guessed, but now that I know him a little better it makes sense. He lived with so little for so long that he only keeps the things that are really important to him.
I hear James walk in behind me through an open archway into the kitchen. He returns with a glass of water for me, and I take it.
"Thanks." Once I start to drink, I can't stop. I didn't even realize that I was thirsty.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, taking the empty glass from me.
I take a deep breath and release it. "I really don't know. I still feel a bit blindsided, to be honest. And so naïve. And just … sad."
"That makes sense. You're not naïve, though, Vera. Far from it."
He sits down beside me and puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him. My body relaxes and a sudden wave of exhaustion flows through me. "Is it normal that I feel so tired? It's barely noon."
He nods. "It's normal after a shock. I think you can definitely count what you discovered this morning as a shock."
"Yeah."
"Here." He pulls me to my feet. "I have just the thing to relax you and take your mind off things."
I open my mouth, and he beats me to it.
"Not sex." He's grinning as he leads me into a spacious master bedroom. "That comes later."
A laugh spills out of me in spite of myself. "And what are we doing now?"