Page 116 of Wildflower
“I’d rather not.”
He laughs and puts a hand on my waist. I let him this time. “Please, Rey. Come home with me now, and I’ll show you how much I worship you.”
I beam at him; the anger dissipating. “I’ll let you do that,” I say. “I need some help to get all this paint off as well. The wet wipes they give us are never enough.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Now we’re talking.”
“Well,thatwe need to do as well, Mark.”
“Talk?”
“Yes, but first I need to finish my shift.”
Then he straightens his tux, drags a hand through his hair and looks at me.
“You’ve got green on your collar,” I say, expecting him to curse and wash it off frantically.
But he looks at it, and then at me. “Good.”
I smile, maybe this is the first step towards us figuring out how to do this.
“I’ll wait in the car for you, I’m done mingling,” he says and leaves, sending me a smile on the way out that should warm me from the inside, but it still stings that I’m not able to leave with him holding my hand proudly down the red carpet.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
us
MARK
Thirty excruciating minutes after I left her in the restroom, Rey opens the door to the back of the Bentley and shuffles in. She’s in grey joggers and a hoodie, her skin blotched with green paint still, but some attempt has been made to get it off. Her hunched shoulders and the way she avoids my gaze tell me she’s upset.
And I get it.
I’ve been sitting here, seething, wondering how the fuck I can redeem myself. What an arse I was. I made my girlfriend feel like shit and disrespected her while she was working.
My girlfriend.
I meant it when I said that. There’s no conceivable other situation for us in my mind. We will figure this out. This secrecy. The fallout. There has to be a way through it.
“Take us home, Neil,” I say, and Rey shifts in the seat next to me. I put a hand on her chin and turn her to face me. She’s pressing her lips together, and tears form in the corner of her eyes as I look at her.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Rey.”
“You made me feel so silly,” she whispers, her voice shaky.
Hearing her like that makes my throat tighten, and none of the words I wanted to say come out. I put a hand on her cheek, but she pulls away.
“Seriously, Mark. I need to know that you understand what you did in there was not okay.”
I drag a hand down my face, willing my anger at myself to calm down so I can say something useful.
“I know. Let’s start at the top, shall we?” If I’m going to do this, I’ll do it thoroughly. She turns to me and cocks her head. “First, I interrupted your conversation with a client that could’ve been entirely innocent, but I made it uncomfortable by claiming you in front of him.”
“Yes,” she says, picking at a loose thread on her joggers.
“Second, I said you’re my girlfriend without even asking you.” Her eyes snap to mine. “We can get back to that,” I add.
“Third,” I continue. “I objectified you and belittled your job, focusing on people ogling you instead of appreciating the art you represent and the joy you spread.”
