Chapter 31 Amber
Amber
My life is fucking weird.
What’s even weirder is that I enjoy it.
I was never normal growing up, so I suppose it makes sense that my life now isn’t normal, either.
But different doesn’t equal bad.
I suppose Cal is my boyfriend. It feels strange to say, but what else would I call it? We sleep together, we eat together… we do everything together.
And the sex? Fucking hell, the sex. It just keeps getting better, especially now that I have a key hidden to the handcuffs and have used them on him more than a few times, experimenting with reclaiming power.
He doesn’t leave me to go anywhere, and somehow that feels safe instead of annoying. He’s handling all of his work remotely, which means I see Dex most days, too. I like him and the fact he doesn’t judge my presence. I suppose it would be a bit hypocritical, though, if he did.
One day when I wander into the kitchen as they're having a brainstorming session, I overhear a little bit about their work.
Neither of them seems bothered when I linger instead of carrying on my way.
They're both too absorbed in whatever they're buried in.
Papers are spread all out on the tabletop, and I catch glimpses of small-typed numbers of data, graphs, and charts.
“I just don't know how we're going to stay afloat with the Tinseltown Theater outbidding us for independent films.” Dex frowns, dropping his head in his hands to massage his temples.
I watch them as Cal lifts a stack of papers and looks it over again, trying to run another analysis of the numbers. “There has to be a way.”
“Not without cash.”
“So, I'll liquidate.” Cal decides. “Sell off some assets. That combined with what I've got in my accounts…”
I frown, suddenly feeling guilty for the random purchases I've been making lately. His home looks way cozier now, but I've definitely spent a small fortune as I've been scrolling through the internet. Haven't bought a person yet, but I've got just about everything else.
“Are you…” I swallow, not sure how to ask the man who bought me if he's poor.
“I'm fine.” Cal assures me. “It's the business that's in jeopardy.”
I frown, tapping the back of the chair thoughtfully. “What's going on?”
“It's kind of droll financial stuff.” Dex says dismissively.
I don't think he means anything by it, but his dismissal feels a little harsh, like he didn't say what he was really thinking.
“Do you need me to return the 3D printer?” I bite my lip, worried Cal will say yes... and even more worried he will say no and leave me to my guilt.
“3D printer?” Dex asks as if the idea is confusing to him.
“My little doll is trying to find a hobby.” Cal grins and then turns his attention to me. “No, little doll, I don't need you to return anything. Buy whatever you want... I've told you this.”
“Yeah, but I didn't know you—”
“It's the business.” He assures me. “Our personal finances are fine. Nothing to worry about.”
My stomach flips a little at the mention of our finances. Not his…ours.
“Why a 3D printer?” Dex asks, hung up on that for some reason.
“I'm printing planters for all the babies.” I explain, knowing that it sounds as unhinged as it is.
I could just go to the damn store and buy planters, but I'm not sure I'm ready to go out.
I could order them online, but it's hard to get a feel for dimensions.
“Babies?” Dex frowns.
“The plants.” Cal chuckles. “The hobby is horticulture.”
“Right…” Dex nods. “You two have some weird fucking hobbies.”
I chuckle at that.
It's not like plants are that weird. They help with oxygen, cleaning the air. They also make me happy, seeing how different they all are, and yet all of them are beautiful.
The most exciting one was the one I brought back from the brink of death... a gift that Cal said had been given to him by a receptionist for his birthday. He claimed he had the touch of death, but I know better than that.
He's touched me plenty in the last few months, and I'm still alive.
“Is there anything I can do to help with this?” I nod at their work.
“I wish you could.” Dex groans.
“We don't have enough capital to afford to launch the film division... not without hiring actors off the streets.” Cal explains. “The overhead is too high, and our competition is outbidding us for all the indie films, which means we aren't making enough profit to sustain us.”
“Indie theaters are really that popular?”
“We provide an experience unlike any other.” Dex reasons. “It's not just like going to see Jaws at the Megaplex.”
“Jaws is older than me.” I laugh. “Of course, no one is going to see that at the Megaplex.”
Dex chuckles, and Cal takes over for him.
“What we offer is more of a curtailed experience… an entertainment complex of sorts. It's not just a single theater playing a single film. We have curated packages, bottle service, an extensive menu, and some of the best chefs in the city.”
“At a movie theater?”
“I'd liken it more to an art gallery.” Dex says. “When we do everything right, bring in the right clients, we've had some incredible sales... movies I couldn't even tell you the names of without breaking our contracts and exclusivity clauses.”
I stifle my smirk. “I can see you guys are really into this.”
“It's a passion project for us both.” Cal shrugs. “And a lucrative business, before fucking Tinseltown opened up and started stealing our customers.”
“So, what do you need to make it work?” I grab a paper off the top and appraise it, but the numbers don't even make sense. There are more zeroes on that paper than there are in the entire phone book.
“Money. Investors. Actors willing to work for pennies so we can produce something worthy of the experience.”
I'm sure I'm not qualified to help with any of that.
“I wish there was something I could do.” I sigh, putting the paper back in its stack.
Cal opens an arm for me, and I collapse against him, circling my arms around his neck, making Dex groan. It's short though, cut off when he says, “Actually, there is something you could do…”
I turn to face him, not entirely sure he meant it for me. His eyes slide to Cal.
“You guys could get married.”
“Married?” I choke on the laugh at that.
It's a joke, obviously, but I'm the only one who finds it funny. And though it's absurd, when Cal doesn't even chuckle, I realize how reluctant he is to be tied to me
“Fuck off, Dex.” Cal says stonily.
I disentangle myself, rising from Cal's lap and praying I'm schooling my features well.
“Where are you going?” He stands, too, a note of alarm in his voice.
I shake my head. In more ways than one, I don't belong here. “I'll just let you guys get back to thinking of real solutions.”
“That is a real solution.” Dex says firmly. “If Cal gets married, his father will give him a million dollars. That would be enough to cover actors on that horror script we sourced the location for a few years ago.”
“Dex.” Cal chides. “We're not doing that.”
I bite my lip and try to ignore the crushing disappointment I don't even understand. Sure, the last month of playing his little doll hasn't exactly been the thing marriages are made of, but Cal's rejection feels more like disgust than apathy. And after I thought he cared about me, it hurts.
“Why not?”
“Because marriage, Dex?” Cal laughs. “It's ridiculous.”
“It's a piece of paper,” Dex argues. “But fine. You aren't doing that... then what are you doing? Because whatever this is between the two of you? It's weird.”
For the first time since his best friend suggested we get married, Cal looks at me, like he thinks I can answer that.
When neither of us does, Dex fills the silence.
“I love you, Cal. Always will, but I think you guys need to bite the bullet and figure out what the fuck this is.”
Cal blinks at him before turning back to me helplessly. “I… we're just…”
I think he's going to say friends, and I'm already raging.
He could at least have the balls to state that I'm as good as a slave. Surely Dex knows as much. Never mind the fact that I don't feel like a sex slave.
Ever since our dinner date and the cosmic fucking before and after it, it's felt more like how I imagined being a live-in girlfriend.
“We're still figuring it out.” Cal shrugs.
I breathe a sigh of relief because he's right about that. And I'm glad he's just as confused as I am.
“So, you're basically dating.” Dex surmises. “You live together. You fuck. You told me you love her. Do you take care of each other's emotional needs?”
“Of course.” Cal nods and then looks to me for confirmation.
I don't know that I fulfill any emotional needs for him, but he certainly does for me. It's why this whole situation is so damn messy.
“Yes.” I shrug.
“Then you're together. Just get married and take that old bastard's money while you keep figuring it out. And if one day you decide you don't want to be married anymore, divorce is easy nowadays. Of course, I would recommend a prenup.”
I can't bring myself to be offended by a fictional prenup in a fictional wedding that will never happen to my captor.
I turn to go, but Cal's hand on my arm stops me and has me turning back to face him. He looks uncharacteristically nervous.
“It's fine.” I shake my head at him.
But he swallows, licking his lips. “Do you... want to?”
“Want to...?”
Cal looks like he's in physical pain. “I mean, we could…”
“Jesus.” Dex mutters. “This is painful.”
Cal turns to glare at him, leaving me to look between them, bewildered.
“Man the fuck up and ask her.” Dex rolls his eyes.
The realization dawns on me slowly. My heart slows and falters, skipping a beat. When Cal turns back to me, there's a determination in him that's so vastly different from his earlier hesitation that I don't understand what just happened. I feel dizzy.
“Marry me.” Cal says. “Dex is right. I... I love you, and we're already living together. Marry me.”
I want to laugh because it's absurd. You don't marry someone because you’re already living together. You marry them because you can't imagine life without them. Because you want to build a future together, because the thought of living without them is painful.
“Marry me.” Cal repeats. “And if you're not happy in six months, then we call it quits. You can have half of everything and go do whatever you want with your life.”
This time, I do laugh. I can't help it.
“You're a killer.” I shake my head. “You bought me to kill me. How do I know I'll be alive in six months?”
“I'd never kill you.” He sounds offended by the insinuation. “Not now that I know you. Not now that I love you.”
The problem with Cal’s love is the same problem I have with love.
He’s thrown it around a few times, but I don’t think he ever really learned what love was.
The people who were meant to teach me weren’t a part of my life, and the ones who were meant to teach Cal may have done more damage than not by their presence.
I don’t think Cal knows how to love, and I don’t know how to receive it.
And yet, the offer as presented seems like a legitimate solution to all of our issues.
Six months.
I've already been with him for three.
Six months isn't much at all, not when we're still trying to decide what this thing is between us.
In six months, we could have it figured out.
Or I could be dead.