Chapter 22
Inside the car, Jake's words lingered. Huddled against my car door, I remained very still, wishing I were anyplace but here.
Bianca made a sound – a half sigh, half purr. "Why should I dothat?" she said.
"Because," Jake said, "you're giving it to Luna."
"What?" she sputtered.
"You heard me," Jake said.
She gave a nervous little laugh. "You're not serious?"
"Wanna bet?" he said.
"But," Bianca said, "she has her own dress."
"I know," he said. "And in five minutes,you'llbe wearing it."
I heard a sharp intake of breath, Bianca's. A moment later, she leaned around Jake and gave me a pleading look. "Luna?" she said. "What's this about?"
I looked down at my dress. Ugly as it was, itwasmine. I guess. And then there was the ick factor. "Don't worry," I told her. "I don't want your dress."
Jake gave me a hard look. "It's notherdress," he said. "It's mine." He turned to Bianca. "Isn't that right?"
Bianca gave a few rapid blinks. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I paid for it," Jake said. "You didn't. That makes it mine. Now take it off."
Even though Jake's words weren't directed at me, they still stung. Remnants of Bianca's earlier words echoed in my brain.He makes me do things. Unpleasant things.
"But," she said, "it was a gift."
"No," he said, "it was a business expense. I'm paying you by the hour. And right now, I'm paying you to take off that dress and hand it over."
My heart was hammering. "Just stop it!" I said. "I don'twanther dress. Okay?"
"Luna," he said in a low, warning tone. "This is between me and Bianca. You don't need to worry about it."
"Oh come on!" I said. "You're asking your paid escort to give me her clothes. How does that not involve me?"
Bianca gave a little gasp. "Whatdid you say?"
"I'm sorry," I said, "but let's all stop pretending that we don't know what's going on here."
Bianca's gaze narrowed. "What precisely do you think is going on?"
I slid my gaze to Jake. He raised an eyebrow as if inviting me to continue.
Across the seat, Bianca's voice became shrill. "Justwhatdo you think I am?"
I looked from Bianca to Jake. Her face was a mask of civilized outrage. On his face, I saw shades of amusement that hadn't been there a moment earlier.
Screw it. Whatever game they were playing, I wanted no part of it. Better to get everything out in the open than wade through some minefield of their making. I turned to Bianca and said, "I think you're his call-girl."
"What?" she shrieked. She turned to Jake. "Are you hearing this?"
I took a deep, steadying breath. "Look," I said, "it's not that I’m judging you–"