Violet frowns. “Is something amusing?”
“You, Ms. Cleary,” I tell her.
Her eyebrows furrow. “Me?”
“Yes. You being so smart and independent and yet having no idea what you want, especially from men.”
She says nothing.
“But you know what’s not amusing? Other people suffering because of your indecisiveness. Like your boss who doesn’t know what to do with you because you don’t like him yelling at you or buying you coffee.”
“That’s…”
“Or the man you danced with at that club and kissed passionately and then abandoned like a shoe that no longer fit.”
There. I’ve said it. I wasn’t really planning on bringing it up, but I guess I just can’t keep it in any longer.
Regardless of whether Violet is being a cocktease on purpose or just plain indecisive, what she’s doing is wrong. It’s about time she got a scolding.
And she does look like a child that’s just been scolded. Guilty. Penitent. She’s not going to cry, is she? Because this time, I’m not going to let her off easy even if she does. Tears are for babies. When you’re a grown-up and you’ve done something wrong, you try to make it right.
She can’t keep going like this. She has to make up her mind.
She draws another deep breath. “I’m sorry… for leaving you at the club like that.”
I say nothing because an apology isn’t enough. There has to be more.
“If you want to go back to yelling at me again, that’s fine. I’ll live with it.”
I shake my head. “No.”
Violet’s eyebrows arch.
“I’m not going to decide what to do next,” I explain to her. “In fact, I’m not going to do anything. You decide, Violet. If you don’t want anything to do with me, all you have to do is stay away from me. Move out of The Mistral. Find another job. Go back to Switzerland and you’ll never have to see me again. But if you do want me the same way I want you—and I think you do—you know where to find me. I won’t ask you any questions. I won’t expect anything. I’ll just be waiting. But not forever. God knows I’ve been patient long enough.”
For a moment, Violet stays still, silent. Then she parts her lips as if to say something, but no words come out. She closes her mouth again as she fidgets with the hem of her blouse.
Now, she really looks at a loss.
I clear my throat. “You can go now, Ms. Cleary.”
She leaves, but I can sense her confusion lingering in the air. Well, that’s not my problem. It’s hers. She’s the only one who can sort out her own feelings.
The ball is in her court now. All I have to do is sit here and wait for her to make her move.
I tap my fingers on my desk.
What are you going to do, Violet?Chapter TwelveViolet
I don’t know what to do.
It’s been three days since I had that conversation with Asher and I still haven’t made up my mind, which basically means I’ve been living in hell these past few days.
I can’t sleep. I can’t focus. Whenever I’m sitting down, I find myself adrift. It doesn’t matter whether I’m watching TV at home, at a meeting here at work, or behind my desk trying to read something on my computer screen. Or eating. My mind just escapes from me to go on its own quest and my body goes on autopilot, like sleepwalking except you’re awake.
In fact, that’s what just happened. Right now, I have half a turkey sandwich in my hand and I can’t even remember eating the other half. My mouth just bites and chews. I can’t even taste the turkey. I don’t remember the taste of the quiche I had for breakfast either.
I set down the remaining half of my sandwich on my plate with a frown. I think I’ve just lost my appetite.
This is hell, alright. Then again, maybe not. When you’re in hell, at least you know you’re doomed. There’s nothing more you can do but suffer the consequences of your actions, your choices. I haven’t done anything yet. I haven’t made my choice. So I’m in limbo. I’m still waiting for my judgment, judgment that I have to pass on myself.
I have the power to choose between heaven and hell, except my choices aren’t that clear cut. If they were, I wouldn’t still be torturing myself. My choices are to leave Asher and never look back—or stay and give in to what he wants, what he says we both want. Basically, it’s have sex with Asher or leave.
I don’t want to leave. I’ve already fallen in love with Chicago. I’ve already grown used to my new job. So what then? Do I just have sex with Asher and stay?
It sounds so simple, but it’s not. I don’t take sex lightly. I don’t just do it with anyone. And I think Asher knows that. That’s why he wants me to be the one to come to him. Well, that and the fact that the past few times he’s tried to get close to me, I’ve pushed him away.