that out to the eight I’d known her, in other words,
when she started at Lowenstein’s. She wasn’t a big fan of Ronnie
though she was a good enough friend not to mention it (too much) or
give me her disapproving look (that often) or, when I’d bitch about
him, she did not say “I told you so” with anything but her eyes
and, last, she did not lose her mind and point out how stupid I was
when I gave him another shot. Like me, she’d worked her way up from
clerk and she wasn’t the head honcho of HR at Lowenstein’s but she
was the assistant head honcho. She promised she was going to smooth
the way.
And, incidentally, she was beside herself
with glee too.
The truth was, all of this seemed pretty
easy. So much so, I was feeling like a major idiot that I hadn’t
tried it before.
Then again, I didn’t have a condo to move
into, a huge, scary man to have my back and a nest egg of fifty K
to fall back on before.
“Ella Ronnie’s Mom?” Ty asked and my
attention focused on him again.
I nodded. “She’s already been to my place,
started sorting and has called three moving companies to get
quotes.”
He nodded once. Then he went to his suit
jacket that was lying on the bed.
I walked across the room to my shoes while
talking. “Work seems kosher too. My friend Margot, who works there,
is going to explain things to the HR Director.” I sat down and slid
my foot into a strappy, stiletto-heeled, silver sandal. Then,
again, right out of my mouth popped more honest sharing. “Actually,
this is all so easy, I’m kinda feeling like a moron that I didn’t
do it before.”
“Shift hadn’t fucked you this bad, you
didn’t have anyone that scared his black ass shitless and you
didn’t have fifty large to fall back on before.”
I tilted my head back and grinned at him.
“Those are all the reasons I talked myself out of feeling like
a total moron and
into only feeling kinda like
one.”
He stared at me for long moments. Then,
without comment, he went to two money rolls he’d obviously at some
point pulled out of the safe. One was a fifty roll. The other was a
twenty.
My attention went back to my shoes. I was
done around the time I heard the door open on the closet. I watched
him drop the now less fat rolls back in the safe; he closed the
door to it and the closet and turned to me.
“Ready?”
I stood and put my hands to my hips.
“I don’t know, am I?”
I meant I didn’t know what we were doing,
where we were going and why I needed an outfit that would get
attention and, not knowing any of that, I couldn’t know if I was
ready.
But at my question his eyes travelled down
the length of me to my toes and back again. They did this slow,
taking their time, missing nothing and I felt their path like a
touch on my skin. As they moved, I saw my dress in my head. Navy,
clingy, silk jersey, pleated down the side seem creating diagonal
gathers across the dress, one shoulder was bare, the other arm
sleeveless. It hit me four inches above my knee, showed no cleavage
but still tons of skin and it was so form-fitting it left very
little to the imagination.
When his eyes locked on mine, he spoke and
his voice was a very deep, low rumble, “Yeah. You are definitely
ready.”
And as he spoke, I noticed his eyes were
different. Not void, not shuttered. The first emotion he’d shown me
in two and half days.
And that emotion was carnal.
I felt my body go electric.
I fought against the surge and whispered,
“Thank you, Ty. But I meant I don’t know what I’m all gussied up to
do tonight so I can’t know if I’m ready.”
He answered immediately. “High stakes
poker.”
I stared at him not getting a good feeling
about this. I’d never gambled before, not in my life. I didn’t do
this because I didn’t work hard for my money to throw it away.
Ronnie gambled. He bet on basketball games all the time. Convinced,
since he had played them, he had the inside track. He didn’t lose
all the time but he also
when she started at Lowenstein’s. She wasn’t a big fan of Ronnie
though she was a good enough friend not to mention it (too much) or
give me her disapproving look (that often) or, when I’d bitch about
him, she did not say “I told you so” with anything but her eyes
and, last, she did not lose her mind and point out how stupid I was
when I gave him another shot. Like me, she’d worked her way up from
clerk and she wasn’t the head honcho of HR at Lowenstein’s but she
was the assistant head honcho. She promised she was going to smooth
the way.
And, incidentally, she was beside herself
with glee too.
The truth was, all of this seemed pretty
easy. So much so, I was feeling like a major idiot that I hadn’t
tried it before.
Then again, I didn’t have a condo to move
into, a huge, scary man to have my back and a nest egg of fifty K
to fall back on before.
“Ella Ronnie’s Mom?” Ty asked and my
attention focused on him again.
I nodded. “She’s already been to my place,
started sorting and has called three moving companies to get
quotes.”
He nodded once. Then he went to his suit
jacket that was lying on the bed.
I walked across the room to my shoes while
talking. “Work seems kosher too. My friend Margot, who works there,
is going to explain things to the HR Director.” I sat down and slid
my foot into a strappy, stiletto-heeled, silver sandal. Then,
again, right out of my mouth popped more honest sharing. “Actually,
this is all so easy, I’m kinda feeling like a moron that I didn’t
do it before.”
“Shift hadn’t fucked you this bad, you
didn’t have anyone that scared his black ass shitless and you
didn’t have fifty large to fall back on before.”
I tilted my head back and grinned at him.
“Those are all the reasons I talked myself out of feeling like
a total moron and
into only feeling kinda like
one.”
He stared at me for long moments. Then,
without comment, he went to two money rolls he’d obviously at some
point pulled out of the safe. One was a fifty roll. The other was a
twenty.
My attention went back to my shoes. I was
done around the time I heard the door open on the closet. I watched
him drop the now less fat rolls back in the safe; he closed the
door to it and the closet and turned to me.
“Ready?”
I stood and put my hands to my hips.
“I don’t know, am I?”
I meant I didn’t know what we were doing,
where we were going and why I needed an outfit that would get
attention and, not knowing any of that, I couldn’t know if I was
ready.
But at my question his eyes travelled down
the length of me to my toes and back again. They did this slow,
taking their time, missing nothing and I felt their path like a
touch on my skin. As they moved, I saw my dress in my head. Navy,
clingy, silk jersey, pleated down the side seem creating diagonal
gathers across the dress, one shoulder was bare, the other arm
sleeveless. It hit me four inches above my knee, showed no cleavage
but still tons of skin and it was so form-fitting it left very
little to the imagination.
When his eyes locked on mine, he spoke and
his voice was a very deep, low rumble, “Yeah. You are definitely
ready.”
And as he spoke, I noticed his eyes were
different. Not void, not shuttered. The first emotion he’d shown me
in two and half days.
And that emotion was carnal.
I felt my body go electric.
I fought against the surge and whispered,
“Thank you, Ty. But I meant I don’t know what I’m all gussied up to
do tonight so I can’t know if I’m ready.”
He answered immediately. “High stakes
poker.”
I stared at him not getting a good feeling
about this. I’d never gambled before, not in my life. I didn’t do
this because I didn’t work hard for my money to throw it away.
Ronnie gambled. He bet on basketball games all the time. Convinced,
since he had played them, he had the inside track. He didn’t lose
all the time but he also
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