Page 17 of Dagger in the Sea

“Send her up, José, thank you.”

I returned the phone back to its cradle by the front door, unlatched the lock, and went back to my bar. I was going to need liquid fortitude for this.

Ciara waltzed into the apartment like a Valkyrie, her long blonde hair floating over her shoulders, the door slamming behind her in aboom. She knew I hated that. Detested that. She strode toward me in a long, body hugging, coral dress and strappy, high-heeled sandals that I’d bought her just last week. Fifteen hundred dollars worth of thin leather straps and stiletto.

“I didn’t forget,” I said. Own up up front was my motto.

“That’s all you have to say to me? Really?”

“No. How about—”

“You never used to forget anything. Always prompt, always reminding me of my little shortcomings, my tardiness. But this takes the goddamn cake.”

“Ciara—”

“Tonight was my debut, Turo! My premier at the Fuego Club. You knew how important this was to me. I’ve been talking about this for weeks, months ago when I got this gig! Where the fuck were you?”

“I had a meeting I couldn’t get out of.”

She let out a heavy breath. “Yes, this meeting, that meeting. Always a meeting.”

“What the hell do you want from me, Ciara?”

Her eyes flashed at me. “Wow. That says it all. You’re just not willing, are you? I used to be willing to put up with all this. You know, I always thought you were a lot of fun—different but fun. You always kept me at a distance, but I didn’t mind. There were rules I had to follow in order to be with you, and I wanted you badly enough that I followed them. I didn’t care. But those rules were quite convenient for you. I’ve come to realize you’re not just distant, you’re totally empty inside. No better than a well-dressed robot. You feel fucking nothing, no matter how hard I try.”

“I am a robot, Ciara. You’re absolutely right. You want more and I—”

“I don’t want more, you idiot! That’s not what this is about! I never expected a ring from you, but I did expect quality, because I’m worth it, goddammit!” Tears filled her eyes, and something in my chest pinched.

I didn’t like seeing her upset. I didn’t like being the cause of it. Ciara had been good to me, and I’d figured being generous with her in bed and with gifts, a well-planned dinner date here and there, would be enough. It had been enough for a long time. A couple of years, in fact.

Years? Jesus.

She had a point. Obviously, I hadn’t been paying too much attention. She had filled a role in my life very nicely and I’d just rolled along with it.

“Not even a fucking apology? An attempt to be sorry, to show you give some kind of a shit?” she said. “This past year you’ve been a real asshole, you know that? I’ve put up with a lot from you. A whole hell of a lot. But this, tonight? No.”

She posed on those heels, a lean leg posturing out of the high slit in her dress. Was she waiting for me to protest? Ciara was a beautiful woman, but her beauty didn’t hold me in its grip. Neither did she.

She was right. I really didn’t care. And I’d had enough of people glaring and bitching at me today. Expecting whatever they expected. For me to pay, for me to be there to do and to be what they needed. Ciara had agreed to my terms when we’d first started this, and she’d certainly enjoyed all the many treats and trinkets that I’d provided her. She should cut and run like a good girl.

I filled my glass again and, holding her gaze, I drank. Her heavily made up eyes flared as she grabbed the vase filled with peonies on the mahogany console table to her left and hurled it at the antique Venetian mirror.Crash. Crack.

I raised my glass at her. “Well done.”

Venom snaked in the curve of her lips. We’d been content for a while. At least, I’d been. What a bloodless, lukewarm word that was.Content. I certainly wasn’t a lukewarm person, and neither was she. I liked Ciara, but was I devoted? Eh. Burning? No. Obsessed? God no.

I raised my glass. “Is the romance drama over now? I’ve got a hell of a lot going on tonight.”

“I hope you die alone, you bastard, because that’s what you deserve.”

“Get out of my apartment. Now.”

“Fuck you, Turo! Fuck. You.” Spinning on her heels, she charged out of my apartment. I grit my teeth at the chop of her shoes over the marble flooring.

Good for her.

And thank fuck that was over.

---