That description doesn’t even begin to encompass everything she is. “Do you value yourself so little? I hate to hear it.”
She shrugs. “It’s the truth.” Using her free hand, she tears off a piece of bread and dips it in the olive oil.
“Not at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have value. Priceless, in fact.” I hold her gaze.
“You really think that?” Her eyes start to water.
I reach for her hand. “Oh, precious, I’m sorry. Did that upset you?”
“No. I mean—” She shakes her head, then looks at the knife. “Oh.” She slides it away from her and back onto the cutting board across the counter. “Onions. They’re kind of strong.”
I hide my smile in another bite of food.
She tears off another piece of bread and adopts an all-business tone. “So what do I have to do for the $20,000?”
“Straight to the point, aren’t you?”
“I just want to know what you expect.” She takes another bite, and I can’t help but enjoy the fact she likes my cooking. “I’m not going to just lie on back and tell you to draw me like one of your French girls, okay? I’m not that easy. I’m not judging sex work, but I don’t do sex work.”
“But you agreed to sell your body to save your brother?”
“That’s different.” She angrily dips her bread into the olive oil. “That was, what’s the word?”
“A devil’s bargain?”
“Coercion.” She angrily bites her food.
“I’m aware of what sort of woman you are, and I’d never force you.” I reach out and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?”
“All you have to do is stay. Simple as that.”
“All I have to do is stay in this mansion with you?” She looks perplexed but keeps eating.
I suspect she hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in a long, long time.
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes.”
“As long as it takes to what?”
“For you to understand just how priceless you are.”
“That’s not a thing.” She tosses her fork down on her plate. Then, with a sigh, she picks it back up and takes another bite. “Why is this food so good?”
“My mother’s recipe.”
“She taught you to cook?”
“She taught me a lot. Though I must admit I was a rude boy, always in trouble, running the streets, not giving her the son she deserved.”
“Does she live here with you?” She looks around at the large kitchen and the expansive view of Vegas beyond the wide glass windows.
“She passed.”
“Oh.” She turns back to me, true regret in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I. I would’ve liked her to meet you.”
“Meeting the parents?” She shakes her head. “Something that dangerous would cost you a lot more than 20 grand, mister.”
I smile, which is something I haven’t done out of true mirth in quite some time. We eat in silence for a little while longer.
Della bustles in, her hands full of packages.
“Let me help.”
She gives me a sour look. “Sit down and eat. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Is that everything?” I eye the pile in her arms.
“From this first delivery, yes.” She keeps walking and disappears into the rest of the house.
“To the master,” I call. “I can help you—”
“No, and I know where everything goes better than you do! Jeez, Xavier,” Della sasses me, as usual.
“She gets to talk to you like that?” Laura seems surprised. “I mean, after what you did to Fat Tommy—” She winces.
“Della’s the only employee I let get away with it. She’s had a hard-enough past that she doesn’t need any shit from me.”
“What do you mean?”
I want to know about Laura, but she’s pulling my past from me instead. “I found her half dead from addiction, lying in a back alley along the strip. I should’ve left her there, but I took her in. She recovered, started working for me, and began a new life. Now she and her wife live in the guest house. Della cleans and fusses over me while Eliana paints and writes.”
Laura’s eyes brighten. “You saved her.”
I roll my shoulders. “I got a valuable employee.”
A rumble sounds from the hallway, and then Della’s harsh curse floats to my ears. “It’s okay, I got it,” she yells.
I rub the bridge of my nose. “Oh, Della.”
“What’s all that stuff?”
“Your things.”
“What?” She cocks her head to the side in an adorably confused way.
“Not your old things. Your apartment is just as you left it,” I explain. “These are new things I thought you might like.”
“You’re giving Dobby a sock?” she asks.
“Come again?”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, I may be a prisoner, but you need to get out more. We need a Harry Potter-a-thon, stat. Do you have movies?”
“Harry Potter movies?”
“Yeah.” She grabs my plate and hers and takes them to the sink before I can protest. “We need to watch them.”
“I can get them, sure.”
Sue strolls into the kitchen, her big green eyes on the newcomer.
Laura turns. “We can watch—oh my God!”
Her scream is beyond ear-splitting, and I have some more explaining to do.
9
Laura
I turn around and run back to Xavier. He braces himself, probably thinking I’m going to jump into his arms. Fat chance. Instead, I dart behind him and use him as a shield. He’ll take longer for the giant beast to eat while I make my getaway. I dig my fingers into the back of his shirt. His whole body is shaking. Is he that scared? Oh my God, we’re all going to die.
Wait a minute.
“Are you laughing?” I poke my head around to try and see his face.
His body stops shaking, his face revealing nothing. Then he cracks a smile and lets out another chuckle. I look back over to the beast who’s sitting there watching us. It’s not a beast. It’s a giant freaking cat. It yawns and slides down to the floor to lie down before rolling over onto its side, showing us its belly.
“This is Sue. My cat.”
“That’s not a cat. It’s giant! Is nothing you do normal?”
He shrugs. “She won’t hurt you. She’s sweet.”
I look back at the cat and then to Xavier. I don’t think he went through all that trouble to bring me here to only let me get eaten by his oversized cat. Right? From what he’s said so far, it’s him that wants to do the eating.
“Your cheeks are turning pink, precious. Do you want to tell me what you're thinking about?”
I dart back behind him. “My, uh, face goes pink when I’m scared.”
“No it doesn't.”
I grit my teeth, having no response to that.