Chapter 10 #2
One thing holds true: He undeniably infuriates me simply by his existence. Us being in the same room together turns into a disaster the moment he speaks, and it’s becoming more difficult for me to refrain from vocalizing my scathing thoughts.
“Okay, Mr. I-Think-I’m-Better-Than-Everyone-Else.
What is it about the wealthy you don’t like?
Are you jealous? Have some weird notion that rich people are bad?
Whatever preconceptions you have, stop applying them to me.
Maybe you’re mad because your boss won’t give you a pay rise, but don’t project that onto me.
” I stand my ground because I don’t often take jabs at people, but if it’s the only way he might leave me alone, if only for a second, so I can breathe and think, then I’ll pave the way to damaging whatever part of his armor I can.
His face reverts back to his usual broody, I’m-miserable-with-the-world expression.
“The ins and outs of my business have nothing to do with you, Sunshine. The people at that event, who you’ve been circulating with your entire life, are like a pack of wolves.
They will tear you to pieces the moment you show a weakness.
They’re predatory. All of them. And that’s coming from a man who seeks opportunities and exploits them.
It’s not the wealthy I hate. It’s the high society you circulate in that I loathe.
At least I admit to being a monster, instead of parading around like a prestigious show dog. ”
I’m taken aback. Is that how he views me? As some show dog? He thinks he knows me. Thinks because of my upbringing that I should be lumped in with them. If I'd known this man's personality when we first met, I would’ve never once thought him beautiful.
“You seem to be on a high horse for someone who literally kills for profit. Is your moral compass that far gone?” I ask, leaning in, refusing to let his looming presence intimidate me.
“I’m almost curious about how you view yourself differently.
” I offer a condescending smile as he glares down at me, folding his arms across his chest. “What sweet little stories do you tell yourself at night so you can fall asleep? Or are you so certain that monsters have nothing to fear, that your actions won’t catch up with you? ”
He mirrors my vicious smile, and the palpable tension between us sparks like wildfire.
I refuse to back down. Refuse to be this precious little doll he thinks I am, even if there’s truth in it.
With Lorenzo, I can be anything I want. If it’s only for a few weeks, why not give him hell and bring him to his knees?
Take out all of my frustration on a man who won’t be in my life forever.
And if I push him too far, then he leaves early. It’s a win-win.
Lorenzo forces a smile. “I’m honest about who I am, Sunshine. I certainly don’t walk around pretending to be a saint,” he says cruelly. “And call me a monster again, I’ll think you’re coming on to me. That didn’t work out so well for you last time, now, did it?”
The dig hits its mark, and heat burns my cheeks. This absolute asshole.
“You seem to bring that up more than I do. Maybe it’s on your mind more than mine. I’ve never even given it a second thought.”
“Which time?” he purrs as his fingers twist around the curl that frames my face. Flashes from two years ago surface, and I shove them down quickly as I slap his hand away.
I can’t believe I was ever attracted to this man.
I turn away from him, smoothing over my hair once more. His words cut exactly where they were meant to, slicing my female pride in two. But I absolutely refuse to let him have the last word or think I’ll back down because he thinks my self-worth hinges on whether he’s attracted to me or not.
A rage I’ve never known fires in my blood. I can’t stand this guy. I want to make him eat his words.
I walk down half a block, and a big pink neon sign shines like it has all my answers.
Fine. If he wants to play, then let’s play.
I walk down the staircase, ignoring Lorenzo calling after me. When I reach the door, a man, who is clearly high, chomps on his gum as he looks up from his magazine. His smile feels slimy, but I return it with one of my own. “Just yourself tonight, sweetheart?”
“She’s not by herself.” Lorenzo steps so close behind me that I can feel his hot breath feathering against the back of my neck.
The man's smile falters, but he seems too high to acknowledge the extent of Lorenzo’s intimidation, which seems to further piss off the Italian giant behind me. Good. This is the perfect place.
“Two tickets, please,” I say, and walk toward the entrance.
“The show's already started,” the man calls out behind me.
“That’s okay. He’ll pay,” I tell him, not looking back at either him or Lorenzo.
I open the door and walk into the peculiar-looking bar. It’s dimly lit with red neon signs behind the bar and stage. The selection from the bar is underwhelming, but the musky-smelling room gives me a strange electric buzz. It’s different from any other place I’ve been.
I would’ve never come to a comedy club on my own. Not that I’m by myself, but it’s not the first choice for most of my friends for a night out, and if anyone saw me in here, there would be rumors going around that I’m having a midlife crisis at only twenty-eight.
But that’s what makes it exciting.
It’s different.
Not at all what’s expected of me.
More importantly, it’s undoubtedly going to piss Lorenzo off.
I look over my shoulder at him and find him scanning the establishment, something I noticed he does upon entering every room.
He looks disgusted to be in such a place, and that only makes this all the sweeter.
Hopefully, it’s enough to make him break and give up on playing bodyguard.
I walk up to the bar and order myself a drink. The bartender looks over me appreciatively, but his smile falters when Lorenzo looms behind me.
“Don’t you have some shady corner to stand in and watch from a distance?” I berate under my breath.
“I need to make sure he doesn’t slip anything into your drink, because this is certainly the type of place where that would happen,” he says loud enough for the bartender, who looks utterly terrified, to hear.
I release a frustrated sigh. This man is insufferable. When the bartender hands over the drink, I grab it and then point at Lorenzo. “You can pay. It’s the least you can do since you're such an outstanding boyfriend, right?”
I push past him, not waiting for a response, and look through the crowd, spotting a man sitting by himself in the back row. I head in his direction. I’m not someone who's in the habit of playing games, but tonight I don’t give a shit.
“Oh, look, latecomers. Thanks for finally showing up!” the man slurring on the stage says. I awkwardly wave in apology as I come to a stop beside the vacant chair.
“Is this seat taken?” I ask. He removes his baseball cap and brushes over his dark-blond hair while pointing to the seat. He seems uncertain as he looks over my shoulder, where I’m assuming Lorenzo has materialized, but I offer him a smile.
“I’m Lily.”
The man's eyes light up as he smiles, confused. “And you’re too good for a place like this.” But he holds out his hand. “I’m Aaron.”
“Oh, looks like we have a bodyguard in the building, folks. Jesus, man, what do you press?” the comedian asks, and part of the crowd turns to Lorenzo. I try to hide my smile as I peek through my eyelashes.
“Is that your boyfriend?” the comedian asks.
I take a sip of the drink, immediately regretting it because it doesn’t taste anything like what I ordered. I slide the glass to the side, with no intention of finishing the drink.
“No,” I reply, not able to keep the venom from that singular word.
“Ah, the quiet type, eh? I suppose focus either has to go to the brawn or the brain, yeah?” the comedian shouts back at Lorenzo. My bottom lip wobbles, and I try my hardest not to laugh. It’s so ridiculous that it’s hilarious.
Lorenzo leans against the wall, folding his arms over his chest and glaring between Aaron and me.
His irritation gives me satisfaction. “Ooooh, too good for the shitty chairs, right?” the comedian calls out.
“I mean, there are more than enough of them available. Thanks for not selling out tonight!” A few waves of laughter rumble through the crowd.
“But what can you do?” He casually shrugs.
“We don’t all have muscles like Mr. Terminator.
This is the only way I get laid! Something about the funny man, you know?
But it’s a hit or miss. Sometimes I get my dick out, and they’re unimpressed.
To be fair, I get it. I’ve got a small dick, but I make up for it in enthusiasm.
On a good night, though, they’re just as drunk as I am and think it’s a good idea to suck it.
Well, you know, for the thirty seconds it lasts. ”
My nose scrunches up. The comedian is crude, but I embrace it for the experience it is.
It might be a little dusty and, well… tacky, but I think about all the people who come here simply to laugh.
To feel free from the pressures of their day-to-day life.
And I laugh at the next joke. Not because I think it’s particularly funny, but because I need to get rid of all of this nervous, pent-up frustration and uncertainty.
Because if I don’t, I’ll cry.
But already, being in this run-down room with a bunch of strangers, I feel lighter. I laugh harder at the next joke.
I’m conscious of Lorenzo behind me. It’s hard not to be affected by his presence, but eventually, I fall into an ease with the crowd, laughing on cue and talking with Aaron.
Instead of thinking about what or who I have to be tomorrow, I imagine what it’s like to simply be a stranger in Manhattan, losing myself amongst the crowd, and Aaron seems like the perfect distraction.
He’s reasonably attractive and seems nice so far.
I’m not a little bubble-wrapped princess, and I certainly won’t let Lorenzo keep jabbing me over the fact that he rejected me, because the reality is, as they say, there’s plenty of fish in the sea.
And that asshole, no matter how beautiful, needs to be reminded that he’s not God's gift to women.
Even when it looks like he was carved by the gods themselves.