Tragic

And Ronin is flirting with the very edge of my boundary in that area.

I spit out the toothpaste and rinse out my mouth, then start the bath water and push the plug in the drain of the massive claw-foot tub. Maybe… yes! Bubbles under the vanity! I dump in a lot, far more than I need, but who cares. It's my tub and these are my bubbles! I can use as many as I want.

I worry about getting so excited about all this stuff, and getting used to it most of all. It sucks when you're used to something nice and then you lose it, but if you never have it in the first place, then you don't have to worry about losing it. Right?

That's how I think. And it works for me. Keeps my expectations low-key and my bullshit detector on high alert.

I peel off the clothes and slip into the hot water and enjoy how the bubbles feel as they float over my body.

I think I might be happy.

Maybe.

The last time I was happy I was fifteen.

And that is very sad. But tonight is not a night to be sad. Tonight is a night to have a private celebration that I made it. I'm OK. My eyes are not black and my body is not bruised. I'm OK. I'm safe.

And that ass**le is one thousand miles away.

I smirk at this. Asshole.

I dunk my head under and shake my hair, then pop back up and relax.

Yeah, that Ronin. He's one cute guy and all. But he's not for me. Even if he is tall and has those amazing blue eyes. I bet if we had babies our kids would totally have the most cornflower blue eyes ever. And dark raven hair. Oh God, we'd make little model babies. They'd need agents at birth.

I am crazy!

Thinking about his little blue-eyed babies. It's fun, in a sixth-grade fangirl kind of way. But I'd rather think about this TRAGIC contract to be honest. And the money that might come with it. I'm not sure how much it might pay or what it involves, but I'm definitely in. Antoine and Elise seem nice. At the very least, they seem on the up and up. So I think I will trust them. And anyway, Elise said I could shampoo hair for a job, so even if the TRAGIC contract doesn't pan out, I still have an apartment and a job.

For a little while anyway.

Ugh. The fear of losing good things creeps back in. I like this new life. I could get used to this very fast and I've never had anything that was even close to being this beautiful as far as apartments go. But Elise gave me the secret. She said keep your mouth shut and do what you're told. So, if that's all it takes to make Antoine happy with me, I can do that. I'll definitely do that.

I pull the plug with my toes and dip under one last time to wet my hair again. I'll wash when I wake up, but right now all I want to do is try out my new mattress. I giggle again as I get out of the tub, wrap a ridiculously extravagant towel around my body, and stumble over to the bed. I only mean to lie down for a second, but once my head hits the pillow, the thought of getting back up to change is just too much.

I slip into sleep already dreaming about Ronin pushing me on the cherry tree swing.

Chapter Eleven - RONIN

I spend the next hour on my own terrace that overlooks the large one down below, just watching the shadows move across her apartment. I can't see anything, so I don't think this is stalking or weird. I just want to see if she's OK. And to make sure she doesn't try to leave again.

Whatever. I want to catch a glimpse of her.

But I don't because the curtains, while sheer, are not really see-though. I see a shadow come and go, like she was in the bathroom for a while with the door open, because the light stays the same. And then no movement.

And the lights stay on.

I have an overwhelming need to find out why she has the lights on and I have to stop myself from going down there and asking her. Is she afraid of the dark? Did she slip and fall and knock herself out? Did she forget to turn them off and fell asleep?

I have to force myself to go back inside, undress, and lie down in the darkness.

But I cannot get her out of my mind.

She's got a past, that much is evident. And it's not a good one from the way she runs from it. But I want to know. If she signs the TRAGIC contract we'll get her social security information and maybe I'll run a background check.

That's devious. Maybe even stalkerish. But if she's an employee, it's my duty. I'd run a check on any new girl who came to us out of nowhere. Which has never happened before. Antoine only takes referrals. Rook not only appeared out of nowhere, she has no agency, no book, and no interest in talking about her past. Bolt was the word Elise used. She might take her money and bolt if we don't tread carefully.

So if the shampoo job is a way to keep her, I'll make sure she's trained by Monday. That way we can keep her busy all day, do her second shoot after hours, and then explain the contract and get her to sign it that night.

At dinner maybe. Yeah, Elise and Antoine can make us dinner.

Us?

Shit, I really need to stop thinking of her like this.

This sounds like a plan and when I have a plan, I'm happy. My mind settles down from the day's activities, and I think about her huddled form in the hallway after watching Clare storm out. She was scared. I make a mental note not to scare her. Ever. And then fall asleep dreaming about pushing Rook in the cherry tree swing.

I wake up in the morning—well, after I reach over and check my phone, I realize it's late afternoon. And the second thing I do is pop up out of bed and start thinking about Rook. I wander out to the terrace to see if the lights are still on, but I can't tell. The whole building is awash with golden light from the afternoon sun.