“Did he tell you what we were asking for it?”
“Sixty?”
“Million,” I said.
“Yah don’t fuckin’ say,” he said in a snide tone. “I thought youz were gonna take sixty bucks for the bastahd.”
I shrugged. “Just thought I’d make it clear.”
He glanced into the mirror. “Yah think I’m a fuckin’ gidrul?”
I didn’t know what it meant, but I was sure it wasn’t good. I shook my head. “No.”
“I know people who know people who might have a little fuckin’ money they need to spend,” he said. “Set up a time for me to see the fuckin’ place, would ya?”
I laughed at the thought of Teddi meeting Vinnie. “Sure thing, Vinnie,” I said with a laugh. “I’ll set it up.”
Chapter Ten
Teddi
Monday mornings were bad by design. Monday mornings filled with thoughts of rejection were much worse.
I’d spent the entire weekend sobbing. Although Devin inspired my emotional meltdown, it certainly wasn’t his fault. His decision to deny me sex was merely the straw that broke the camel’s back.
A lifetime of trusting the wrong men, being used, and putting faith where it didn’t belong came to an ugly head. To cope—or to keep from coping—I guzzled wine and binge-watched rom-coms on Netflix for the entire weekend.
Convinced my relationship woes were by my own making, I stumbled into the office hungover and tired. Wearing sunglasses to hide my puffy eyes, I strolled toward Devin’s workstation, convinced I could walk past without so much as looking at him.
Just through the door, I looked up. Devin was standing at his desk, stretching his arms. A few days’ growth of beard covered his angular jaw. His pressed shirt clung tightly to his wide chest. The outline of his muscular biceps was draped by his shirt’s sleeves, but little was left to the imagination.
I admired him as I strolled toward his desk, wondering if his weekend was as gut-wrenching as mine.
“Good morning,” he said as I approached. “How was your weekend?”
My lips parted slightly. I wanted to speak. To tell him how much it hurt to be rejected. Explain what it was like to feel there was something wrong with me. To know deep within my heart of hearts that when I decided to give myself to a man, it would only be a matter of days, weeks, or months before I was reminded that relationships, for whatever reason, simply didn’t work out for me.
Brimming with emotion, I strolled past him without so much as acknowledging his presence. After making a cup of coffee, I sat in my office and stared at the door. Knowing he was fifty feet from where I was sitting—but that I couldn’t even bring myself to talk to him—ground against my every nerve.
I picked up my phone’s receiver and dialed Kate’s extension.
“Good morning,” she said upon answering.
“Get in here.”
“Be right there.”
The receiver no more than fell into the cradle, and Kate ducked through the door. “Spent the weekend not answering calls and texts. I’m guessing it was a good one?”
“Shut the door.”
She shut the door and took a seat on the other side of my desk. “Sunglasses are a nice touch. Were you up all night with you know who?”
I removed them and tossed them into my purse.
“Oh, no,” she said. “What happened?”
I pressed my fingertips against the skin beneath my eyes. “Is it that bad?”
She leaned against the edge of my desk and looked me over. “You look like you spent the entire weekend crying.”
“That’s because I spent the entire weekend crying.”
She relaxed in her chair. “Start at the beginning.”
“The beginning?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I think it must have started when my parents were killed. Not having them around to give reassurances left me hoping to find it from men. I’ve been so eager to get someone to pat me on the back that I’ve made some ridiculously bad decisions.”
“Not that beginning,” she said. “On Friday. What happened?”
“Oh, God.” I rolled my eyes. “It was awful.”
“Details, dear. Details.”
“We went to the house, and he was showing me the floor. When he stood up, he pinned me to the wall and said, ‘I want you to decide if you want me to fuck you or not. I can’t decide for you.’ It was right at the same time the men showed up to look the place over. They rang the doorbell—”
“Wait. He pinned you to the wall? Like, explain that, would you?”
“Pinned me to the wall, Kate. He pressed his chest against mine, forcing me against the wall. Our lips were basically touching. Basically.”
“Did he kiss you?”
“No. He just said the you-have-to-decide thing.”
“Okay.” She wagged her brows. “Continue.”
“They came and looked the place over, and he was eyeing me the entire time. Saying little things, and—”
“What kind of little things?”
“Jeez, Kate, I don’t know. Things. Little sexual things. And he was looking at me with those eyes. His eyes.” I leaned forward. “Have you spent any time looking at his eyes?”
She nodded in agreement. “He’s got good eyes, that’s for sure.”
“Well, he kept looking at me. Saying things. I’m waiting for his two friends to leave, knowing when they do that he’s going to bend me over that island in the kitchen and have his way with me. He brought wine, Kate. He put a bottle of wine in that worn-out little leather messenger bag he carries.”
“At what point did it go to hell?” she asked. “Was the sex bad?”
“There was no sex.”
“What?” she screeched. “How in the world?”
“When they left, he went into the kitchen, grabbed the wine, and pinned me to the wall again. He told me I had a nice ass, nice tits, and a pretty face, but that my pussy might be too pretty to fuck.”
Her eyes thinned to slits. “What. Does. That. Even. Mean?”
“I know, right? I have no idea.”
“He said you’ve got a cooch too cute to copulate.” She laughed. “Then what did he do?”
“Basically, he shoved me out of his way and stomped out to the car.”
“That’s it?” she snapped back. “No nothing?”
“Nope.”
“What about Saturday?”
“I spent the weekend watching rom-coms on Netflix and crying. He took his shirt off, by the way. That was interesting.”
“Wait. What? Took his shirt off? When?”
“Before he pinned me to the wall.”
“Just ripped off his shirt and smashed you to the wall?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Holy crap,” she gasped. “Then, nothing?”
“He’s so sexy it makes me sick,” I said. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Spend every waking hour wanting him. I don’t know what it is about him, but I want him so bad it hurts.”