Crew's vision was starting to blur. She spoke with such conviction that he had no doubt she would succeed in finding a suitable man. Shouldn't that be a good thing for him? She'd be out of sight, out of mind, not his problem. Unfortunately, she was his problem - for no reason he could figure, he actually cared what happened to her, and he shouldn't. Sheesh. He'd met this woman only this morning.
He had plans - goals - and he couldn't afford any distractions right now. His father would be here soon, and though Crew didn't care about his stupid trust fund any longer, he needed to prove to the man who had raised him that neither of them had wasted their time and effort.
"Who is this man you seek to attract? Why would you want someone who doesn't want you for who you are? I'm really just curious."
"Who he is doesn't matter. As for wanting me for who I am, that's more difficult. You wouldn't know anything about not being raised as a Storm, not having a privileged life from the moment you were born. You've always had everything, never had to struggle; you've never gone through troubles. You were born wealthy and beautiful. There is no way you could possibly have a clue what it's like for those of us on the other side," she spat out.
"I am not a snob." He was insulted she'd even think such a thing.
"Ha! I have always wondered if snobby people realize they're snobs. Do they go to bed at night thinking they're better than others? Do they snicker at people less fortunate than they are and go out of their way to make the poor saps' lives miserable? Or do they not know the pain and suffering they cause? As I look at the confusion in your eyes, I think I have my answer. Maybe some of them do and some of them don't. But I will tell you this: my years of school were a misery. The girls tormented me, called me names, made me feel horrible about myself. They sought joy through the pain they inflicted on me and others. Did it make them feel better about themselves, superior? Maybe. Maybe not. I really don't care. My revenge comes by having a good life now. I get revenge through my success. Part of that is by changing from being a girl who was so persecuted that I had to hide in the shadows just so they wouldn't notice me. I am done being afraid. I am done letting what other people think about me predict my actions. I am also done speaking to you. There is no way you will ever understand any of this."
Haley started to stand and Crew felt a moment's panic. What she said tore at him. Had he ever made someone feel like this? Either knowingly or unknowingly? If he had, it was unacceptable and to his eternal shame. He could never be OK with hurting another human for his own personal gain or pleasure.
"Please sit." His tone had calmed; his anger was deflated. How could he be angry with this woman, a woman who had so much hurt evident in her eyes? How could he possibly turn her away? Though he knew better than to accept her offer, he somehow couldn't chase away the desire to help.
And he knew he would regret this before the words came from his mouth.
"I will help you."
At first she just stared, but joy quickly overspread her face.
Crew shook his head gently. "Hold on before you get too excited. You have much more inside you than you realize, Haley. There is fire brewing in your veins, passion in your eyes, and what I'm sure is a pretty spectacular body beneath your ridiculously baggy clothes. I will help you to see yourself - not help you change who you are. There is nothing I see that needs changing."
He could tell by the shocked look on her face that she didn't believe him for a second. How cruel people must have been to her.
"I need to know a little bit about you," he continued. "Where you grew up. What your dreams are. What things you are attracted to. Before I can show you who you truly are, I need to know who you think you are."
Confusion covered her face. It was obvious she really had no idea of her own appeal. Her light green eyes peered at him through her befuddlement. Her soft blond hair cascaded down her back, most of it having worked loose from her sloppy bun. Even without makeup, she was a beauty. With it, she'd look like any one of the women who so confidently threw themselves at him. He preferred her the way she was now - well, maybe with tighter clothing.
"I am just me. You know my name's Haley Sutherland. I'm twenty-six; I went to school in Washington state. I grew up with my grandparents, but they passed away several years ago. I have no idea who my dad is, and my mom died during childbirth. I have no other family members. My life has been boring up until now. I'm ready for excitement."
"Those are facts I could find out from the most basic of background searches. I will only agree to do this if you share with me - really share. I grew up with a younger sister who loved to talk, and talk often, so I know a little bit about what it is that makes women tick. I want to know your dreams, what excites you, what makes your heart pound. I need to know your fears, your darkest desires, the things you've thought about but never imagined telling anyone. I want to know you, Haley, not the image you show the world."