The Masseuse by Violette Dubrinsky

talking about the nuisances of watching paint dry and she’d listen attentively. Whatever Delilah wanted to talk about, she wanted to hear. Her sister was still here and that was all that mattered.
    ***
    “Maybe we could go to your place tonight?”
    Ramsey tensed, the hands gripping her buttocks over her dress stilled. He lifted his lips from her neck to look down at her. Silence exploded between them like a gunshot.
    They’d just come from dinner, and as she’d known he would, before they’d made it back to his truck, he’d pressed her into a hidden alcove and proceeded to grope her. She’d worn one of her sexy dresses tonight, a skin-tight, body-con piece that hugged her figure and accentuated all her curves. Ramsey always worshiped her curves...so she thought tonight to wear something that showed them off for him.
    “I’m guessing that’s a no?” She wished she could see his face instead of having it cast in shadow.
    “Jez—”
    “It’s fine.” She cut him off and forced a smile. “I just thought we could use a change.”
    Before he could respond, she pushed past him, shaking her head at her own stupidity. Ramsey had been vocal in what he wanted from her, and he seemed to want more than sex, yet he never offered to take her to his place, nor had he mentioned anything about introducing her to his family. Even when his niece had her birthday party, Jezebel hadn’t been invited. She wouldn’t say he was ashamed of her—he was affectionate in public—but he didn’t seem to want her around his private family life. Why hadn’t she noticed this before Delilah brought up family introductions? Because she was whipped. Clearly.
    She walked to where he’d parked and waited for him to open the passenger door. Once he did, she stepped up and into the truck, tucking her coat around her body properly and waiting for his attempt at an apology.
    “Jez—”
    “I said it’s fine, Ramsey.” She turned to find him staring at her with a peculiar expression. She smiled reassuringly. “Please take me home.”
    “Don’t do that, baby. Not with me.”
    She feigned stupidity, even as she wanted to tell him to stop calling her baby. “Don’t do what?”
    “Don’t shut me out because I said something you didn’t want to hear.”
    “I’m not shutting—”
    “I don’t want to fight with you.”
    “Good, because we are not fighting.”
    He groaned and shook his head. Having had enough of the conversation, enough of him for a night, she turned to look out the window at the other parked cars.
    “Look at me.”
    “I’d like to go home, Ramsey.”
    “Jezebel, look at me...please.”
    She slowly turned back to him. He’d leaned across and his face was now closer to hers. “My apartment isn’t like your house.” When she only blinked at him, he continued, “It’s not warm, or inviting, it’s very...cold.”
    “So?”
    What did that have to do with anything? She wanted to see where he lived, just to learn some more about him, and he was worried about the décor? That made no sense.
    “Baby, your place is just better.”
    “And your family?”
    “What?” He looked confused, and she guessed she couldn’t blame him.
    “Would you introduce me to your family?”
    He seemed taken aback but then he looked away and sighed. “Jez—”
    “You don’t have to answer. The answer’s on your face.” She looked back out the window.
    Ramsey didn’t speak for long moments, before he said in a firm and clear voice, “I am not and have never been embarrassed by you.”
    “Are you married?”
    He seemed taken aback by the question, and shook his head. “No.”
    Jezebel didn’t think he was. During the time they’d spent together, Ramsey had never come across as hiding anything, and they both worked around each other’s schedules, instead of her catering to his every availability. And they went out in public, during the days, and she’d been to his job…
    “Is it because I’m black? You’re embarrassed by