“What am I supposed to do?” I ask, leaning away from his chest. “Am I supposed to talk to them? Am I supposed take out a restraining order against the entire press? I can’t even go to the bathroom without someone being in there, glaring at me, ready to grill me about you. About…us . And there isn’t even really an us . I—”
Raphael gently places his index finger over my lips, cutting me off. “There absolutely is an us. If you still want there to be. I understand if this is all too much and you don’t want to see me again. I do understand. I won’t like it, but I’ll accept your decision if you decide you don’t want to meet with me again. But let me follow that up with this: no one will ever love you like I can. No one will ever care for your heart the same way I will. And no one will ever light you on fire the way I swear I will for the rest of my fucking life, either, Beth. I’m a focused man. I’ve set my sights on making you the happiest woman on the face of the fucking planet. I know we’re not off to a very good start, but I swear to god and all things holy I will protect you, Beth. When I find out who sold that footage, I am going to rain down hell fire on them, the likes of which they have never known. They’re going to wish they’d never been born. And I will find out who was responsible. I have people working on it already. There won’t be a stone left unturned in this godforsaken city until I locate and punish the motherfucker who caused you pain, believe me.”
I do believe him. There’s a dangerous, mad glint in his eye that tells me he wants to deal with this issue personally. He wants to use his fists to teach the person who invaded our privacy a lesson. A severe beating isn’t going to be enough. He wants them fucking dead . I do, too, but Raphael looks furious enough that he’d be willing to commit the act himself.
“I don’t care who did it,” I whisper. “I just want to be able to walk down the street without being judged. I didn’t know about the farm. I didn’t have a clue Mom was on the brink of foreclosure. Now that the public knows every single little dirty secret about my family’s financial issues, they’re all coming to the same conclusion. I’m fucking you for your money. I can’t bear it.” My tears chase down my cheeks even faster. This is the first time I’ve allowed myself to fall apart. I’ve been so intent and determined to hold everything together since David showed up at my place last night that it’s been hard to release the steel grip I have on my own pain. Now that I’m giving in to it, it feels like it’s taking me out at the knees.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of it,” Raphael tells me. He uses his thumb to wipe away my tears. Leaning down, he stoops so that our eyes are level.
“I’m going to take care of everything. You don’t need to worry about a thing from now on, okay? I swear it.”
I shouldn’t take him at his word. Not because I don’t believe he means it, but because it’s going to be virtually impossible for him to achieve what he’s talking about. Freedom of the press is taken care of under the First Amendment. The law does not bend or break to Raphael North’s will, no matter how many decimal places his bank balance goes to. He can’t force them to leave me alone simply because he wants them to. That’s not the way the world works.
“It’s not just that,” I say, doing my best to fight back my tears. “I lost my job at the library today. They fired me.”
Raphael growls in the back of his throat. “On what grounds?”
“On the grounds that the library is a place of study and relaxation, and should be quiet at all times, not filled with camera crews, looking to question me or harass my colleagues about me.”
“They can’t do that.”
“Well, they did.”
“I’ll cover whatever salary you’ve lost then. It’s the least I can do.”
“No!” I shove away from him, reeling back, out of his arms. “You can’t give me a cent. Not ever. I’ve told you, Raph. I don’t want your money.”
His body tenses, a hard edge to his voice when he speaks. “You lost your job because of me. It’s my fault.”
“No, Raphael. I mean it.”
He clenches his jaw. “I have plenty of money. Might as well put it to good use.”
“I can’t believe you’d even think that right now. Not after all the hateful things they’re saying about me in the papers. I refuse to continue with this conversation.”
He folds his arms across his chest, visibly riled and unhappy. “What do you want to talk about then?”
I stare at him for a moment. He’s not going to let the money thing drop, I can tell. I get why he feels like he needs to give me cash to cover my lost salary, but I’m not going to back down on this one either. I’ll feel like a fraud if I do. I need to change the subject. I need to change it, and fast.
“Who is Chloe?” I fire the question at him like a bullet from a gun. For all intents and purposes it might as well have been a bullet, too, because Raphael jumps, his entire body jolting. A look of horror settles on his face.
“Where did you hear that name?”
“Thalia mentioned her before. She said Chloe made her promise to watch out for you.”
“She was drunk,” Raphael fires back. “She doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.”
“She seemed pretty clear about it to me. And I don’t think she’d just randomly make a name up on the spot like that. So who is Chloe, Raphael? And why don’t you want to talk about her?”
I watch as the wall comes crashing down: a double reinforced, steel riveted door, eight inches thick. God knows how long Raphael has been throwing up this wall whenever he’s faced with a hard question, but right now it stands between us, impregnable and impossible to climb. I don’t even try. I know it would be futile.
“Forget it. It doesn’t even matter. I’m going home.”
The mask Raph’s wearing slips a little. “Don’t. You just got here. We haven’t spoken properly yet.”
I shrug, turning around, walking back to the stairway. “How can we when there are so many things you won’t even talk about, Raphael? Maybe one of these days you’ll be ready for a conversation. When you are ready, why don’t you come to me for once? Oh. And if you need my address, you can always ask Nate .”
* * *