Just One Night, Part 2: Exposed by Kyra Davis Page B

don’t need you there. I’ll talk to Love, maybe Freeland—”
    “I can’t let you do that,” I say. He already knew I was going to say that. I can tell by his tone, which carries only the faintest notes of hope, like violins that are all but drowned out by the heavy brass sounds of resignation.
    “I told you last night, I will not sit back and watch as he victimizes you. That’s not how I live.”
    I pause to consider the phrasing. It’s not how he lives. There’s something telling in that . . . but something I can’t quite place.
    “I can win,” I say, pushing these thoughts aside. “I’m stronger than Dave. Smarter, too. I can win.”
    “Not if you play by the old rules.”
    I shift uncomfortably in the bed, moving the sheet down to my waist. “You don’t believe in rules?” I think of my sister, I remember her dancing on a table, shedding clothes like so many restrictive social conventions.
    Robert smiles; his eyes flicker to the window, the port of entry for the hazy morning light. “There are so many old adages about winning. To the winner goes the spoils, the history books are written by winners, and so on. But there’s only one truly meaningful benefit to winning. You see, to the winner goes the rules . I believe in rules, Kasie. I believe in them because in my world I am the winner. The rules are mine to set. What I don’t believe in is playing by other people’s rules.”
    The arrogance of that is enough to wake me up. I look at him with clearer eyes. What does it mean to truly be a power player? I wouldn’t know; neither would Dave. It took me a day and a half to figure out how to get out from under Dave’s thumb. Today, at 5:45 p.m., I hope to have that situation a bit more under control. Asha will be harder, she’ll bide her time, sharpen her weapons, hit me when I’m the least protected. But Robert Dade is different. He dominates the world in a way that I don’t fully understand and it occurs to me that if I give in to my feelings for him the way he wants me to, he’ll dominate me, too. And the danger here is that with Robert I might not look for the escape.
    I will lose myself.
    Like now, for instance. See the way he looks at me? Like a jaguar looks at a mate. Without making a sound he roars for me. How easy has it been for him to get me to forget my many protests and reservations? How easy was it for him to make me risk everything for him?
    There’s a shift in the air. His hand reaches for the sheet and carefully he pulls it back. It’s just me, in his shirt, my hair covering the pillow. I sense his frustration, see that it’s mixed with a strong desire. It’s a hazardous cocktail.
    I sit up, draw away from him. “I need to go home and change my clothes. Will you drive me or should I call a cab?”
    There is a strain in our connection. His mouth twitches slightly as he swallows instinctive demands. “I’ll take you.”
    He gets up and leaves the room. He’s exercising self-control by not trying to control me. But I wonder how long that will last.
    *    *    *
    A N HOUR LATER we’re parked by my front yard. I don’t have my car here. It’s in the parking lot below the office building I work in. But I don’t bring up this inconvenience. I don’t want to risk people seeing him driving me to work. I’ll find my own way. Just like I’ve found my own battle tactics.
    I turn in my seat, a little hesitant, a little hopeful. “There’s a plan . . . one I’ve already set into motion.”
    “All right,” he says, nodding his approval before he’s heard a single detail.
    “I need your presence for it to work. I need you to be at this restaurant.” I pull out one of my business cards and scribble down a name and address before handing it over. “I’ll be meeting Dave there after work.”
    His smile spreads a little wider. “You want me to come?”
    “Yes,” I confirm, “at around six. Dave and I will already be seated by then. I’d like for you to come to