Page 128 of For Love or Money
Rafe poured her a whiskey with ginger ale and handed her the room service menu.
‘I’m too tired to be dealing with knives and forks,’ Stella said, looking at it. ‘Fancy sharing a pizza?’
They ordered pizza and a bottle of red wine, and, when it came, they ate on the floor, leaning against the bed, the pizza between them.
‘So, what was that all about at the funeral today? Why are you estranged from your family?’
‘So many questions.’
‘Sorry.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘But I know so little about you. You’re an enigma.’
‘You know more about me now than most people.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘You know my mother’s still alive. You know I have a brother.’
‘Tell me something else that most people don’t know.’
She arched an eyebrow. ‘Aren’t we a bit old for games of truth or dare?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t remember offering you the choice. But if you like.’
‘Dare, then.’
‘Okay. I dare you to tell me something true.’ He grinned, and she smiled back at him.
‘Okay, but no questions. I’ll choose.’ She ran her fingers over her glass, toying with the idea of telling him something completely banal – like that she stole money once from a church collection when she was a kid. That was true, and not many people knew. But instead she took the dare in the spirit it was offered – as a challenge to share something more personal. ‘I was bullied at school,’ she heard herself saying. She took a gulp of her wine. ‘Obviously lots of people knew at the time. But no one who knows me now. I never talk about it anymore.’
‘What age were you?’
‘Ten, eleven,’ she said. ‘Twelve. Thirteen. It went on for a while. It was worst when I was a teenager.’
‘I guess girls that age can be pretty vicious. It was probably jealousy.’
She took a deep breath. ‘It wasn’t girls, though.’ She grabbed another slice of pizza.
Rafe raised his eyebrows in disbelief. ‘You were bullied byboys?’
She took a bite and nodded.
‘As a former teenage boy, I find that hard to believe.’
‘Well, it’s true.’
‘Did this bullying take the form of sexual harassment?’
‘No. Just straight-up old-fashioned bullying. Teasing me. Being cruel. Generally making my life a misery. Believe me, it wasn’t about wanting to get with me,’ she said with a bitter laugh.
‘Teasing you about what?’
‘The clothes I wore. The way I looked. The things I liked to do.’ She shrugged. ‘Everything really. My hair. My face. My body.’
Rafe threw her a sceptical look.
‘I didn’t always look like this, you know. I’ve had some work done.’
It was fleeting, but she saw Rafe’s eyes flicker over her breasts.
