Wishing Well(18)
Message delivered and received. It was too bad for her I was a lot more discreet in my plans. “Any real skills?” I asked.
Her expression fell. “No. Does that mean the deal is off?”
I almost felt sorry for her ... almost. “Not at all. There are two jobs that don’t require experience, and Theresa is ready and willing to train you on whatever requirements accompany the job. “I believe you can work in the lounge, or as a maid.”
Eyes rounded, she shook her head. “Nope. I’m not wearing that skimpy little maid outfit and walking around this place with a feather duster. You can forget we ever had this deal. I’ll just take my clothes, go in the bathroom and change, and I’ll be on my way.”
Penny moved to stand, but I was faster, my hand gripping down on her wrist, a squeal of pained protest bursting from her lips when I squeezed a touch too hard. Her attempt to jerk away was feeble at best, the dinner setting jostling on the table. And although we’d drawn attention, I wouldn’t back down. She’d reached the end of the line on my patience. “Sit down,” I bit out, the razor edge to my command cutting, “and behave like a respectable woman for once in your miserable young life.”
What the hell had I been thinking to choose a girl from the streets? I’d wanted a challenge. I understood that, but Penny was proving to be a touch too rebellious, which only drew the ire of a man like me.
Surprisingly, she sat as I’d demanded, her shoulders folding in over themselves as her eyes scanned the tables nearest ours. Embarrassment colored her cheeks, and once more I saw beneath her bullshit facade to witness the fragility of who she was inside.
Ignoring the stares and whispers of the patrons seated near us, I snapped my fingers to draw her attention to me, my personality leaking out despite my desire to keep it hidden. “Are you trying to destroy your own life? Is that your game? What is it about having a job, food, a place to sleep and some damn class that aggravates you so much? Where were you before the streets? In some dysfunctional home that taught you nothing about how to behave?”
Although I’d kept my voice low enough to be a hiss across the table, tears stung her eyes, the gold flecked brown glimmering beneath the low lighting of the room. Our stares were locked as her lips parted slightly, as her fingers clenched over the napkin she hadn’t yet placed on her lap like any decent woman would. Slowly, her brows pulled together, her cheeks deepening in color, a line being drawn between her eyes by the anger boiling inside her, and just as I thought she would attempt to bolt from me once more, Matthew appeared, setting our drinks on the table.
“A Coke for the lady and a red wine for Monsieur Mercier.”
Neither of us bothered to glance up toward Matthew, and my hand twitched with the need to slap the rebellious rage from Penny’s insolent face. Matthew left without another word, leaving us alone to continue this ridiculous battle.
“You know nothing about me or my life,” Penny spat between clenched teeth. “Not a damn thing. And it’s obvious you just want me to prance around here dressed like a damn slut for the purpose of putting on a show for your guests. That’s beneath me. I won’t be amusement for perverts like you.”
“You were sleeping on the streets just last night, I’m not sure anything at this point is beneath you.”
My smile was finely honed, the line sharp. It was all I could do to keep from reaching across the table to wrap my fingers over her face and hold her in place while I explained, “It was never my intention to make you prance around. I recall offering you a choice of jobs. One inside the lounge where, yes, the clothing choices are risqué, but also in our housekeeping department.”
“Where I’ll have to wear that stupid black and white dress with sky high heels and fish-nets? No thanks!”
The tension was making it difficult to understand where her refusal was coming from. Thankfully, she reminded me. Canting her head to the side, she gave me a feral smile while saying, “Like the woman you molested in the hall when we first got here? Is that a requirement of the staff? To be ready and available to you?”
My shoulders relaxed. “You mean émilie.”
“Yes,” she admitted, émilie.”
Shaking my head, I answered, “You’re confused, Penny. émilie is not a maid, she was wearing one the lounge costumes. And nobody is required to be at my disposal (except you ). émilie and I...well...”
“Are dating?”
“More like fucking, but if you prefer a term that’s more polite-“ My voice trailed off as I gave her a wan grin.
“Oh,” she mumbled, her full lips rounding with her eyes.
“Oh,” I repeated, happy that she appeared to be backing down from whatever assumption she’d made.
“Sorry, I thought -“ Pausing mid-sentence, she settled in her seat, her cheeks flaring with color. On a softer voice, she explained, “I just couldn’t understand why a man like you would approach some random homeless girl in the rain. I assumed it was for reasons like what I saw with émilie.”
Interesting...
She wasn’t wrong to assume that was my intent, but her adamancy, her anger, at the thought of a man using her that way piqued my interest. I knew nothing about her, knew nothing of her experiences, but I would leave those questions alone for tonight. “The housekeeping uniform is a grey dress, if I’m not mistaken, one that falls to the knees and comes with a white apron. It’s in keeping with the theme of this hotel, but I believe most of the female staff wear shorts beneath them, given their duties. What you saw émilie wearing is one of the costumes used in the lounge, and if you’re uncomfortable dressing as such, then you don’t have to.”