Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“It looks like you may have a cracked rib.”
“Can you do something for it?” she asked softly, watching me with sad, worried eyes.
“Not really. You should x-ray it to make sure. But it has to heal on its own. It takes time.”
“What about pain medication?”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Painkillers and distraught people generally aren’t a good mix.
“The hospital could probably prescribe them, but you could reinjure yourself more easily by dulling the pain.”
Her shoulders slumping in disappointment, she walked away from me and sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands.
I followed her into the apartment. It was expensively decorated in modern Italian furniture. Mostly in white––and about as cozy as the inside of a refrigerator. Sitting in the chair next to her, I took hold of her hand and squeezed it in comfort.
“Emilia, where is he now? Will he be coming home soon?”
“No. He’ll be at the club all night.” She grimaced, pain tugging at her side.
“Let’s put something on that,” I told her.
In the freezer, my search for a cold pack turned up a bag of frozen peas instead.
“Is this the first time? Here place these on your ribs.” She shook her head and winced when the cold hit her skin. I was afraid of that––a deep sigh rose up my throat. “What happened?”
Her anxious gaze darted away from mine. “We had a fight…about one of the girls at the club. I think he’s sleeping with her.”
Again, no surprise there. I needed to handle the confession with care and fought the urge to rail, knowing her proclivity to argue to her very last breath if she felt cornered.
“He’s hurt you before––” I stated very gently. “He’ll do it again.”
“Maybe.” My heart broke for her. She sounded so small, belittled. “But I love him,” she added, as if that was all the justification that was necessary.
How could I respond to that? I was in love, too. I was in an untenable situation, also. I wouldn’t ever allow a man to lay a hand on me, though I could sympathize. In my own way, love made me weak.
“I understand you better than you think.” I rubbed the space in between by brows where all my heavy thoughts seemed to settle lately. Her head whipped around and her pale green eyes searched mine. “I’m in love with my employer.” I rolled my eyes and hid my face in my hands. “What a ugly cliché, right? The housekeeper has an affair with her boss.” Her mouth fell open––literally fell open. “I’ve shocked you? Well, I’ve shocked myself.”
“It’s just that…it’s just…you always do the right thing. Nothing ever seems to distract you,” she stated, her tone incredulous.
“I assure you, I’m distracted.”
“How did it happen?!” she asked, smiling, the sadness momentarily replaced by curiosity.
“I’m human, Em. I’m not sure how. We were awful to each other at first––maybe because we both felt it and were scared of where it would lead.” I shrugged at the admission, the truth so clear in hindsight.
“Sebastian Horn is one of the most eligible bachelors in the world…and he’s in love with you!”
“I didn’t say that. I said I’m in love with him.”
Her smile faltered. “Oh…do you think he is?”
“It doesn’t matter. It can’t go anywhere. I could never tell him about my past. I can’t involve him in any of that.”
“Maybe he could help?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“I see.”
“Come back with me, Emi. Let’s pack your things and leave here. He’s the most generous person I’ve ever met. I’m sure he would let you stay at the house until you can get a place of your own.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I love him and I know you think he’s trash, but you don’t know him like I do.”
Classic battered woman syndrome.
“And what about the next time? When he breaks your arm or your face, and you can’t work?” It came out harsher than I intended, my concern for her overruling my intention to handle the matter delicately. She stood up, her face hardening into an implacable mask.
“Thank you for coming, Vera, but I can handle this on my own.”
“Emi, I didn’t mean––I’m really worried about you.”
“It’s fine,” she interrupted. “I’ll go to a clinic tomorrow and see about getting an x-ray. I’ll call you in a couple of weeks. Maybe we can meet for lunch.”
I nodded. It was useless arguing. She was as stubborn as an ox when she was like this. As we stood hugging at the door, I made her promise to call me as soon as she saw a doctor.
* * *
I took a taxi back to the estate. It was one by the time it pulled up to the front door. On the front steps, Gideon Hirsch stood with his arms crossed in front of him looking like the instrument of God’s vengeance.