Page 22 of Enjoying the Ride
“Are you from New York?”
She shakes her head.“Oh, well, the state, not the city.I grew up in a small town about three hours away from Manhattan.”
“And are you close to your family?”I inquire, watching her.
A troubled look crosses Posey’s usually bright face but she conceals it quickly.“Sort of,” she answers in a vague tone.“Yes and no.”
I want to press her on the subject, but it’s more idle curiosity than a necessary follow-up because the interview portion of our so-called pageant isn’t about a woman’s personal history, but rather about determining how they might fit into our life on Mirago.We need women who are sexy and fun, but also ones that will be discreet and get along with each other.
My mind is conflicted: I want Posey to pass this phase of the pageant and at the same time, I hate the idea of bringing her back to my home and being forced to share her with my brothers.
Get your shit together, Trek, I growl.You always share.That’s the way this shit works.
My expression must be grim because Posey glances at me, a look of alarm crossing her own face.
“Did I answer that wrong?”she asks softly, panic tinting her voice.I shake my head, cursing myself for letting her see my inner thoughts.How does she keep drawing out my emotions like this?
“There are no right or wrong answers, Posey,” I say in a smooth tone.“Let’s move on.Tell me about your current job.What do you do with your time?”
Looking a little more relaxed after my reassuring comment, Posey leans back into the couch before answering.
“Well, I’m a physician’s assistant,” she begins slowly.“I’ve been at this position for a while now.”
“And how do you feel about leaving your job, should you win?”I ask in a casual tone.
Part of me is worried that this bewitching woman might confess that she wants to stay in New York.But Posey is shaking her head.“I’d be thrilled to leave this position,” she says in a wry tone.“Trust me, I’d give notice at the drop of a hat.”
I pause.“Why?”I ask, giving in to curiosity.“Is something wrong, or…?”
Posey shoots me another wry smile.“I like the medical field,” she hedges.“But my boss is practically the second coming of Harvey Weinstein,” she says.“He’s gross and creepy and spends more time hitting on his employees than he does actually working.”
For a moment, I see red.
Who the fuck does this guy think he is?I think, my body tensing with rage.What’s his fucking address?I’ll go deal with this piece of shit right now.
When my vision finally clears, I look down to see that my hands are clenched, the veins bulging.The pencil I’d been taking notes with has snapped in half and is resting at my feet.
Posey’s eyes are wide, their depths full of admiration and astonishment.
“Sorry about that,” I say in a gruff tone.“You probably think I’m a monster.”
“It’s okay,” she says, reaching out and tentatively placing her hand on my arm.“It’s fine.You didn’t scare me.”
I stare at her hand—so much more delicate than my own—and feel something inside of me stir.
She’s a calming presence,I muse, relaxing more and more the longer that Posey touches me.
“I just—” I inhale deeply, so that I can deliver my explanation without flying off the handle again.“I just got a little pissed at the idea of some jackass trying to take advantage of you.”
The pretty redhead smiles softly.“I get pissed about it, too,” Posey offers, stroking my arm as if calming a wild creature.“Alotpissed off.Although I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I shake my head and chuckle, trying to convey that all is well.
“No, I’m fine,” I give her a half-truth.“My pulse is normal now.”
But if I ever meet that fucker in a dark alley…
Posey gives my arm a gentle squeeze.
