Page 17 of Find Me

I pause. I’ve never had to ask for money before, let alone for the amount I need right now.

He reaches out, grabbing my waist to pull me in closer, his blue eyes looking at me intently. “How much?” he repeats.

My eyes break away from his, and I look at the floor as I quietly whisper the amount I need.

He lets out a low whistle, chuckling again before moving me aside so he can stand up, and instructing me to wait here as he leaves the room.

He’s back a moment later, his footsteps echoing off the marble floor as he approaches the couch again.

I freeze as he slowly places four stacks of bills on the glass table in front of us.

Holy shit.

I’m stunned by how easily he just went and got this amount of cash for me. There is rich, I think to myself, and then there is wealthy, and I know what category Rhett falls into.

I reach for one of the stacks, shame still sour in my mouth, and the embarrassment from this whole situation makes me want to melt into the floor. But before I can touch the money, Rhett stops my hand with his own.

“Tisk tisk,” he chides. “We still need to work out the finer details of our deal…”

Confusion sweeps through me, and I look at him, wondering what he means.

“I thought we worked it out?” I question. “You lend me the money and I pay you back as quickly as I can.” Anxiety starts to surface within me as I’m unable to read the emotions behind his eyes, and I’m genuinely unsure of what he’s about to say.

“I want more out of our deal,” he says simply.

My brow creases as I look at him, still unsure of what he’s implying.

“Don’t tell me you were serious about that maid costume…” I start lightly.

“Oh, I’m sure we could work that into our agreement if it’s what you want.” He laughs.

“I’ll pass,” I say quickly.

“But what if that’s what I want, Evi?” he questions.

“Do you?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Well, no, not that specifically…” He trails off.

“Okay, seriously, Rhett, I don’t get what you’re saying. What more do you want? I don’t have anything to give you…” I trail off, noticing his stare as he looks me up and down suggestively.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“What …”

“I want you to be more… amicable… to what I want,” he starts.

“I’m still not following.” Confusion laces my words.

“It’s quite simple, Evi, I want you to be more easygoing. I’m getting tired of this little dance we do every time I bring over something new for you to try, having to calm you down and convince you it’s fine. I also don’t want to hear any more complaints of you being too high, or too tired, too… well, you know. I’m always having to convince you to get on board with whatever I want.”

“You want me to complain less and fuck you more?” I ask, as anger starts to bubble within me, all thoughts about him treating me kindly flying out the window along with my pride.

He shrugs his shoulders. “If you want to put it crudely…”

I look between him and the money, completely caught off guard by what he just said. Up until this moment, I thought I was giving him everything, and a little piece inside me begins to crack at the realization that maybe he hasn’t liked being around me as much as I liked being around him. I blink tears away as they start to flood my eyes.

“Oh, come on, Evi, don’t be like that. Just hang out with me, don’t complain so much, and let me show you what real fun can be like.”

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