16. Chapter 16 #2
"Fuck, sweetheart, you have to figure out exactly what you're doing. Yea, sex is fun, and sex doesn't have to mean anything, but you didn't really go into it that way. This was, dare I say it, intimate. And with a man?”
"Why do you keep saying that? Yes, it was with a man. I'm straight."
"I know, but it's just... I don’t— I don't know how you ended up straight."
"The fuck? You're not actually my mom, though you act like it, and sexual identity is something that is personal for everyone, right?"
"Right, right, right. Yes, absolutely. But I am one hundred percent about the queer agenda.” She considers me for a moment more. “A man? Haven't we talked about how embarrassing it is to have a boyfriend?"
"Yea. Yes, it is embarrassing. And I don't think that you bringing that back up is making me feel any better about all of this."
"Well, emotions—relationships—are complicated, especially when you have your heart behind it.” She smiles, stroking my cheek, “You were honest about your past to someone who I've never met, which is also—wait, have I met this person?"
I don't answer her question, instead switching to a different topic. We are not there. “So, if I can't dance tonight, when can I dance?"
"You're not dancing at all because Racquelle has already trusted you to do something else. I’m not putting you on the schedule when you should be completing a job that is more important than getting a few bands."
I sigh long and heavy. "Please."
"No, and that's final. I have enough to worry about. I don't need you up there giving my dancers a complex."
I stomp my boot, the sound reverberating even with the music playing. “And what is that supposed to mean?"
"You think I'm gonna put your little ass up there so they can start thinking I'm playing favorites? like I'm gonna give you the shit detail?"
Smirking, I whip my hair around me, “Well, if you're better—you're better—and sometimes people are just better."
"You and I won't argue about that. Sometimes that's true, but in this case you have moved up from dancing. You’re Lafayette now. I'm hoping that continues to be the case.”
"But—"
"No buts. You're not getting on the schedule. Have you eaten?" She starts fluffing my hair, fixing a few pieces that have fallen out of place, mother henning me like she normally does.
"Yes, I've eaten."
She taps my nose lightly. “No, you haven't. You're lying. I'm going to go put in an order with the kitchen. Go and sit in the office, and I'll bring you some food."
"But I don't want to sit in the office. Why can't I be out on the floor?"
"Because I don't trust you, and like I said, you give our dancers a complex."
I sigh and go into the office, kicking my feet up and turning on a rich housewife TV show while I wait for the food to come out.
As I'm sitting in the office that I used to practically live in, I ponder over last night.
Can I do a pros and cons list?
Pros: I found out that Vert is, in fact, fucking huge. A soda can could not even compete with the thickness that I'm going to likely need years to recover from. I mean, nothing would feel like that felt.
Okay, other pro. He knew what he was doing and seemed to have actually taken care of me.
What?
Important and also valuable information, because… Has he ever been a dom before? And who is that bitch?
And will I have to kill her?
No, no, no, no, no, no.
I'm not jealous.
Jealousy is not real.
That's just an emotion that comes up naturally because, as I mentioned, sometimes you're just better, and I know I'm better than whoever that bitch is.
Anyways, moving on.
Another pro: He did bandage me up, which meant that he at least felt bad for what I did.
Nothing told me that I was in any real danger that I needed to get out of the car like that—besides the tape and you know?
Being in a trunk. He could have left me to my own problems but he patched me up. That’s got to be a pro.
Another pro: Found out I'll never have to share my milkshakes with him because he is not a fan of sweets, which honestly should be in the cons list.
Last pro because this list is getting much too long.
He’s fine as fuck. I’d never seen him without a shirt before and I didn’t need to know how strong he is.
All those delicious tattoos on full display with him pounding into me…
Dark eyes and teasing praise spilling from his lips? That’s a convincing argument.
Okay, let's move over to cons.
Cons: He still thinks that I am a murderess, which, in a lot of ways, I am, but I'd like to think of myself more so as a vigilante.
A young hero… heroine?
I'll workshop it.
Also, con. He has a kid, which I haven't met. But hey, I'm not opposed to kids. Kids are cool.
I just can't do that.
I made it through my list just in time for Liezel to show up with my food. "Oh my god. Smells so good.”
My stomach grumbles loudly, and Liezel chuckles. "I knew you hadn't eaten."
"Okay, it would have done that even if I had eaten because you know I love, love the T bone with fluffy mashed potatoes. Is there gravy?” She tips the plate slightly for me to see. “Oh my gosh, there's gravy." I snatch up the plate from her and begin cutting into the meat.
"And you better eat that salad." She drops the smaller plate onto my table, or onto her desk I'm sitting at.
"But I don't want to eat it, and salad is gross."
"You need it to grow big and strong."
I frown at her. “I’m literally five-two. I'm not getting any bigger."
"Okay, you can grow strong in other ways besides height."
"With my tenacious beard?" I question, chuckling and stroking my chin.
She laughs but leaves me to my thoughts. And those… I've got many to sort through.