Folsom (End of Men, #1)(11)

I grin. “I’ll show you where lunch is being served.”

As we walk through the narrow hallway, our arms brush against each other. I’m aware of how close we are to one another, how the heat of his skin transfers into mine.

Sophia and Mother are standing in the living room, attempting to appear casual but failing. Their backs are stiff, eyes are wide, and the curiosity is about to break them both in two. It would be comical if I didn’t suddenly become overwhelmed with dread for having to share his company. He seemed in a hurry to leave my room, but I wish I’d found a way to stall.

“Done so soon?” Sophia’s tone is mocking, as she puts her hand on Folsom’s chest. I wonder if women just touch him like this all the time. He doesn’t seem bothered by it; rather, he ignores her hand and looks at me.

My breath catches. His face is stony, as if a wall just went up. I wonder what he’s guarding. Mother swoops between Sophia and Folsom and takes his arm. We walk to the dining room, where all of our best is out on display. She places him at the head of the table and motions for us to sit on either side of him. She signals to Phoebe that we’re ready for the dining service to begin and Phoebe lets the kitchen staff know. When it’s just us in the house, we’re not nearly so formal.

Once the platters are brought out, my mother takes a seat next to me. I clasp her hand in hopes that she’ll relax. She’s making me anxious.

Folsom fills his plate with mostly vegetables and fruit, especially the raspberries. At the last second, he takes a large chicken breast. I file it all away, not bothering to take any food. He chooses lemonade, a favorite of mine.

“How is your schedule while you’re here?” my mother asks. “Do you ever get a day off?”

Folsom sets down his knife and stops chewing. “I’m expected to attend the Region parties, which as you know are most nights, but I’m not always expected to impregnate someone at them, so…little bit of a break.” He gives a savage grin and picks his knife back up. “I have an occasional Tuesday off. It just depends on how the lottery goes.” He looks at me then, popping another bite of chicken in his mouth. “Do you work full-time?”

“She never stops working,” Sophia answers for me. “Like a plebeian. You’d think she was born to the lower end.”

“She’s here today,” he says, his gaze running over my face. “It seems we have the same work ethic, Gwen.”

Sophia rolls her eyes. I pick up a glass of water and sip it, hoping it will cool me down.

“I enjoy my work,” I finally say. “I want to be part of the solution. The world has enough people lounging around hoping things get fixed for them.”

“Are you going to put me out of a job?” His voice sounds almost hopeful.

“Yes, actually,” I say bluntly. “Not that you can’t keep doing what you’re doing, but it would be really great to not have to depend on the End Men to save us.”

“It would be great,” he agrees. “Not nearly as much fun as what we just did, though…”

I laugh then but don’t respond. He waits a moment and seems satisfied with what he sees on my face. He’s still smirking as he tucks back into his food.

Sophia scoots a little closer to him and runs her hands through his hair.

“Sophia, let the man eat,” Mother says.

Sophia glares at our mother and puts her hand in her lap. “I’ll be at all the parties,” she says. Folsom eats a large handful of raspberries and grabs another spoonful. “I’ll see you there,” she adds.

He lifts his glass and gives her a mini-salute. She doesn’t seem to realize he’s not interested in anything but the food right now. He turns to me.

“I hope you find the answer,” he says quietly.

It takes a moment for me to understand and then I know—no one wants to be done with his job more than he does.

All the preconceived thoughts I’ve had about the End Men and their glamorous life fades. It might be different for the others, but with Folsom, it’s obvious that he’s ready for his obligation to the Regions to be done. The problem is, with a good forty years or so left of virility he’s not anywhere close to being finished.

I thought women had it rough, the few who can afford it getting one chance at a child, but I can’t imagine being bound to the Regions’ beck and call. It changes everything. I feel awful for him, but the point remains: I want a baby. So I’ve contributed to his bondage.

It’s too much to think about…too much of a shift in the way I’ve always thought. I feel guilty and yet excited over the thought of what we did today. Mostly excited.

I stand up, nearly knocking my chair over in the process. “I have to go. Thank you, Folsom.” I hold out my hand and he takes it in his. “I’m so glad it was you.”

I pull my hand away and he looks stunned.

“Where are you going?” Mother asks.

“I have to get to work.”

“Gwen, really, sit down. The next appointment isn’t for another half hour,” Mother says.

I leave before anyone can say anything else. I do want to work this afternoon, but more than that, I’ve felt entirely too many emotions today and I don’t want to hear Sophia’s cries of pleasure when it’s her turn.

When I arrive at the lab, I throw myself into work, catching up on what I missed this morning. No one but my boss knows about my appointment with Folsom, and she has the grace not to ask when she sees me. I can still feel the throb where Folsom was inside of me. He invaded more than my body; I can’t stop thinking about him.