I indicated the guest room across the hall.
"That one has a private en suite. I assume you'd like that room."
Her shoulders seemed to loosen. "You don't, ah . . ."
"I don't what?"
"You don't expect me to sleep in your room," she stated, sounding relieved.
I smirked at her uncertainty.
"Miss Brown, this is a business arrangement. Outside these walls, we will appear as a couple. We'll hold hands, stay close, do whatever other couples do who are in love."
I waved my hand in the air. "In here, we are real. You have your space; I have mine. I won't bother you. I expect nothing from you."
I couldn't help the dry chuckle that escaped.
"You didn't really think I'd want to sleep with you, did you?"
Her head snapped up, and she glared at me.
"No more than I'd want to sleep with you, Mr. Moore." Turning on her heel, she marched down the hall, her footsteps small thumps on the hardwood floor.
I followed her, still smirking. When we reached the living room, she whirled around, her eyes flashing.
"You asked me to do this, Mr. Moore. Not the other way around."
"You agreed."
She crossed her arms, anger pouring off her body.
"I'm doing this, because at the moment, I have no other choice. Your decisions have directly affected my life, and I'm trying to keep up. I hate lying, and I'm not a good actress."
"What are you saying?"
"If you're not even going to attempt to be polite, or at least be a decent human being, this isn't going to work. I can't turn off my emotions that quickly."
I pulled on my stubborn cowlick in vexation.
"What do you want from me, Miss Brown?"
"Could we not at least try to get along? Surely we can find something we have in common and engage in a conversation without your veiled insults and holier-than-
thou attitude."
A grin tugged at my lips. I was catching another glimpse of the backbone in Miss Brown.
I tilted my head. "I apologize. I'll try to do better. Is there anything else you want since we're putting everything on the table?"
She hesitated, her fingers worrying the ugly shirt she wore.
"Spit it out."
"You can't, um, you can't mess around while we're doing . . .while we're together."
"Mess around?"
She looked everywhere but at me. "You can't sleep with other women. I won't be humiliated like that."
"So what you're saying is: I can't fuck anyone?"
Her cheeks were so red I thought her head would explode; however, she straightened her shoulders and looked right at me.
"Yes."
This was too fun for me.
"Yes, I can fuck around?"
"No!"
"No fucking," I enunciated the last word.
"No."
"You expect me to remain celibate the whole time?" I asked, now incredulous.
"I will be, so I expect you to do the same."
I snorted. "I doubt it's anything new for you."
She threw up her hands. "That's it. You want to fuck someone? Go fuck yourself, Ethan."
I gaped at her retreating figure as she grabbed her coat and stormed to the door.
Like the idiot I was, I chased after her—for the second time.
"Ruby!" I reached past her so she couldn't open the door. "I'm sorry. My remark was uncalled for."
She turned; her eyes were bright with tears.
"Yes, it was. So many of the things you say are."
"I'm sorry," I repeated. "It's almost instinctual with you."
"That doesn't make it any better."
"I know," I conceded, then changed tactics.
"I won't."
"You won't what?"
"I won't fuck around. I'll abide by your wish." I pressed harder against the door—if she left, I was really fucked.
"I'll try not to be such an ass, as well."
"I'm not sure you can change your DNA, but good luck with trying," she mumbled.
I relaxed—crisis averted.
"I'll drive you home."
She began to shake her head, and I gave her a fierce look.
"Ruby, we agreed I was going to be less of an ass. I'll drive you home. Tomorrow is going to be a long fucking day."
"Fine."
I grabbed my coat and opened the door for her, knowing my life was about to change in ways I never planned.
I only hoped it would be worth it.
Aside from Katharine's hesitant instructions, the drive was silent. The farther away we went from my neighborhood, the darker my mood turned.
When we pulled up in front of a dilapidated house, I turned to Ruby.
"This is your house?"
She shook her head. "No. I rent an apartment in the house."
I slammed the car into park, yanking off my seatbelt. "Show me."
I followed her up the uneven path, double clicking the key fob. I hoped the tires were still attached to my car when I returned.
In fact, I hoped the car would be there. I didn't try to hide my displeasure as I looked around at what I assumed was considered a studio apartment.
I considered it a dump. A futon, an old chair, and a desk that also served as a table were the only pieces of furniture in the room.
A short counter with a hot plate and a small
refrigerator posed as a kitchen. There were a half dozen boxes piled by the wall.
A wardrobe hanger held the dowdy suits and blouses Ruby wore.I strode over to the one door in the room and threw it open.
A tiny bathroom held a shower so minute I knew I would never be able to use it. I closed the door and turned to Ruby.
She watched me with nervous eyes.
None of this made any sense to me.
I stepped in front of her, towering over her small stature.
"Do you have a problem I should know about?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Do you have a drug problem? Or some other addiction?"
"What?" She gasped, her hand clutched to her chest.