Page 79 of First Chance

“Don’t touch me,” he pleads, finally forcing his eyes to mine in the mirror. “You can’t touch me anymore.”

“Oh.” Embarrassment floods my system. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t do that, don’t take it for something it isn’t. I’m drawing a boundary for your own good, trust me.” He tears his attention from the mirror and drags his hands down his face.

“For my own good,” I utter under my breath, focusing on the mirror long enough to hate the lip color I chose.

I pick up a makeup wipe to smear it off as he stares at me.

I avoid his gaze as I fiddle with my lipstick tubes, shifting them around, pretending to choose a new one so he doesn’t see the confusion on my face. The hurt.

He sees me as a naive young woman, another person who refuses to let me make my own choices.

“I’ll be ready in a few minutes. I need to find some jewelry, but it spilled in the bottom of my suitcase.” I stand from my seat without picking a color, and he backs up as if the boundary he put up between us is physically in the room, keeping us separated.

He moves toward the door, and I think he’s going to leave without saying anything, but he stops suddenly at the threshold.

“Wear the red lipstick,” he suggests over his shoulder, disappearing from the doorway.

I pick up the gold tube and twist it in my fingers.

The red lipstick that I love but my mother hates.

She’d be disgusted.

A minute later, I hear his steps approaching my door again, but his voice reaches me before he does.

“This probably isn’t helpful, but I have some of my grandmother’s old jewelry if you want to look through it.” He stops suddenly in my open door, noticing my red lips.

He opens his mouth to say something, and I hope he might compliment me, but he shuts it again before clearing his throat.

He’s holding a wooden jewelry box I recognize from one of the shelves in the living room, and he pops it open as I step towards him. A gasp escapes me. “These are beautiful pieces.”

Real gold and silver, gems of all sizes and colors, authentic turquoise. My eyes are drawn to a vintage gold cluster ring with tiny diamonds; the floral pattern is stunning and will match the earrings I already have in.

“Your grandmother had great taste. Is this okay?” I ask, slipping the ring onto my middle finger.

He nods subtly and doesn’t say another word to me as we all pile into the trucks and go to the event.

He doesn’t speak to anyone or even look in my direction.

I thought maybe the lipstick would push his boundary just a little, but it seems like it had the opposite effect. He’s stepping further away.

We arrive at the estate where the event is taking place, and he disappears as soon as we walk through the doors.

It doesn’t matter. This is work, and I have a job to do.

“JoAnna.” My mother’s stuck-up voice slumps my shoulders immediately. “Why on earth do you keep associating with those thugs?”

“They aren’t thugs.”

“They’ve been to prison,” she hisses.

“So? Did you need something? I need to make my rounds.” The red lipstick is giving me an edge of confidence that I did not have the last time I spoke to this woman.

“I need you to come with me.” She gestures for me to follow her, but I don’t move. “Really, JoAnna? When are you going to grow up?”

“What, Mom? What do you want from me?”

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