Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Did…Fender say that?”
“No. I am. How do you expect all your clothes to fit if you’re getting bigger every week? You can always take something in, but never out.” He shook his finger. “And you shouldn’t wear those beautiful designer clothes unless you’re worthy of them.”
“Why do you hate me so much?” I blurted out the question because I was exhausted by his hostility. “Fender told you to service me the way you service him, but you’re constantly insulting me when I’ve done nothing to you.”
He looked down at me over his nose, like nothing I said meant anything to him. “He said to service you. Said nothing about liking you.” He walked off and left me there to sit alone, to stare at my small lunch of a salad and a side of fruit. Everything I ate was wonderful, something to look forward to, but now I didn’t have an appetite.
Gilbert brought dinner to my room.
“Is Fender home?” There were other workers in the house, housekeepers and chefs, but they only spoke French. I had no one to talk to besides Fender, so days without interaction felt like an eternity.
He set the tray on the dining table. “Yes. But he can’t be bothered right now.”
I stayed on the couch and swallowed my disappointment.
“Enjoy your dinner.” He excused himself.
“Wait.” I rose to my feet and turned to look at him.
He turned back around and didn’t hide his annoyance, but he obeyed my request.
“Can I have dinner with you…sometime?”
A slow, bewildered expression came into his face. “Staff never dine with their masters. And even if I could, I wouldn’t.” He turned around and walked off.
I shouldn’t care what he thought about me, but since he was the only person I interacted with, it really brought me down, made me feel worse about myself than I already did. I’d been nothing but polite to him, but he continued to treat me like I was worthless. Maybe I should take a drive to the city, have dinner in a café or something…just to be around people who would have no reason to hate me.
When I made it downstairs, I searched for Gilbert to ask for the keys to a vehicle. I’d never driven in Paris, but as long as I drove slowly and took my time, I should probably be fine…I think.
Gilbert was nowhere to be found.
Footsteps sounded behind me on the stairs.
“Bring my car around.” Fender’s deep voice sounded from the very top, and his footsteps became louder as he descended toward the bottom floor.
Gilbert was behind him. “Of course, sir. Which vehicle would you like this evening?” Cheery and kind, the excitement was in his voice, like he lived for these interactions with Fender.
“Surprise me.” Fender made it to the bottom, dressed in all black, in a sleek black leather jacket. His hair was styled when it was normally ignored, and he wore a black watch with a gold case around it.
When he noticed me, he walked up to me but didn’t embrace me. He had this look on his face that clearly said, “What do you want?”
I got better at understanding what he said when he didn’t say anything at all. “Wanted to take a car into the city…”
Gilbert joined us and walked past, trying to disappear.
“Not tonight.” As if the conversation was over, Fender headed to the front door.
“Why?”
He continued to the entryway and ignored me.
Something about the whole thing pissed me off, so I followed him. “Where are you going?”
He reached the front door but didn’t open it. “Out.”
He wasn’t dressed like he was doing something for work, but some kind of social event, and that made me feel betrayed. He was going out without me, and the only reason for that would be because of women. “I’m talking to you.” I was tired of the back-and-forth, of his affection and then his coldness. He could be so good to me and then so indifferent.
He stilled then turned around, giving me his gaze and attention. His muscular arms rested by his sides, and he took a step toward me, his eyes showing their annoyance at the interruption.
“Why won’t you answer me?”
“Because I don’t have to.” Like that was final, he said nothing else.
My eyes started to water against my will, my throat beginning to burn. I felt so alone here, felt betrayed by him when he owed me nothing. I hated myself for feeling this way, feeling something I didn’t quite understand.
As with every other time I shed tears, it softened him. His eyes dropped the hostility. “What do you want from me?”
“Are you with other women?” I dropped my restraint and spoke my mind.
His eyes narrowed. “None of your business.”
“Because if we aren’t going to use anything—”
“Is that really your concern?” He stepped closer to me, his eyes shifting back and forth as he burned his look into mine. “If you want my fidelity, all you have to do is ask for it.”