Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“I haven’t thought too much about it.” I can’t stand looking at him for another second, so I don’t, looking down at my plate instead. It’s a good thing I’m so practiced at disconnecting. It comes in handy at moments like this, when it’s either stop caring or start screaming. Wouldn’t that be a memorable birthday dinner? If I started screaming for everyone in the restaurant to hear? I would rather make a scene like that than suffer through this another moment longer.
He hasn’t given up. He still wants to sell me to the highest bidder. What is he getting out of it, I wonder? How much money would I go for? My fingers tighten around my fork and, for one brief but thrilling second, I imagine the satisfaction of sliding it through his eyeball. Hearing him scream. At least it might mean getting a little of my own back. Respecting myself a little after being humiliated this way.
“You know,” Clark suggests as a third plate is added for him by the very confused, slightly exasperated server. Now I see this entire charade for what it was. Clark was always going to join us. Dad just didn’t want to let me know too soon. “I would love the pleasure of taking you out to celebrate, just the two of us. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a beautiful young woman on my arm, and you are certainly beautiful.” He has to search for my knee under the table, reaching for it before making contact. His touch leaves me biting the inside of my cheek to keep from shrieking at him to leave me the fuck alone.
Between the intimacy in his voice and the way he looks at me, like he’s undressing me with his beady eyes, I might have to throw up. How do people like this actually exist? Don’t they know how disgusting they are?
“Now, I know you’re not so overwhelmed you can’t be grateful for a compliment.” Dad nudges my foot with his under the table. “Don’t be rude.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, willing myself to get through it. The steak knife next to Dad’s plate is looking awfully appealing right now—my fists tighten, and I wish I had the guts to reach for it. Later, when I’m alone in my room, I can take care of it.
Somehow, I manage to make it through the rest of the meal, with Dad and Clark making quiet plans as we wait for the valet to bring the car around. Clark’s hand touches my lower back as he helps me into the car, even though I don’t need it. It takes everything I have to not shudder in revulsion. Only once he’s closed the door after shooting one last, lingering look at my boobs can I release the breath I was holding.
Not that my relief lasts long. “I have to say, I’m disappointed.” Now that we’re alone, Dad can let the mask fall away, and he wastes no time once we are on the move. “You sat there acting like some blushing little idiot while a man like Clark treated you so well.”
“Did I ask him to? Dad, he’s your age. That’s gross.”
“Grow up,” he sneers. “You want to be treated like an adult? Then start here and now. You live in the real world, not some fantasy land where everybody gets what they want. And to think, you’re so eager to get out on your own.” His nasty laughter sends a chill down my spine. “Here I am, offering you the opportunity.”
It finally sinks in. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse. “Dad, I’m not going to marry him.” There’s nothing funny about the situation, but I laugh, mostly in disbelief. Which century does he think we live in?
“I wish you wouldn’t shut the idea down without giving it some honest thought.”
“I don’t understand what there is to think about.” I feel like I’m in deep water, dark, kicking and moving my arms, but in just as deep as ever. There’s no pulling myself out of it. I could scream all I wanted, but no one would hear me.
“He’s a decent man. I trust him.” Glancing my way, he asks, “What, you think I would hand you over to someone I don’t trust? You don’t think I would consider every possibility when it comes to your safety and protection?”
And my happiness? Who am I kidding? He doesn’t care about my happiness. My chance at having a parent who gave a damn about anything like that died years ago, thanks to me.
“I can promise you one thing, Maya.” Any attempt at tenderness has drained out of his voice, not that he was trying very hard in the first place. “You will not do better than him. Clark is your best hope of finding a good husband who will keep you comfortable and cared for all your life.”