Feet firmly on the floor, Hup turned into a purring softie again.
Scratching Hup’s head with one hand, Amelia tucked her feet beneath herself and rose to stand. “Okay, Hup. I have to go for a little while. There’s food in your bowl, all right? I know you think you need more, but it’s plenty. You’ll be fine for a couple hours. I’ll give you some treats when I get home.”
The calico blinked up at Amelia and yawned.
“Stop it. You know that’s contagious, right?” Amelia stifled a yawn as she stepped out of the bathroom.
Then again, maybe the fatigue was a blessing in disguise. If Joseph was as selfish in bed as he was at every other aspect of his life, maybe she’d be able to catch a nap.
She snorted at herself. “Yeah, right.”
Glancing over the still shadows of the apartment one last time, Amelia scooped her car keys from the granite breakfast bar. She stooped to rub Hup’s chin, grabbed her handbag—which included her service weapon—and made her way out into the night.
For the trip to Joseph’s, she focused her thoughts on the stupid jokes that flitted through her head. Jokes about how Joseph was probably a lousy lay, how he was probably one of those men who didn’t know the first thing about the female anatomy. If she hadn’t, she was sure she’d have pulled over at least once to vomit.
By the time she turned into a parking garage across the street from Joseph’s apartment building, Amelia’s hands were clammy, and her heart had nearly punched a hole through her chest. Her mouth felt like it had been crammed with sawdust, even after she took a long swig from her water bottle.
Glancing at her reflection in the rearview mirror, she breathed in and counted to six. She could never remember the correct length of time she was supposed to inhale to ground herself, but today, six would have to do the trick.
After a few more steadying breaths, she shoved open the driver’s side door and stepped into the harsh white light of the garage. She forced her feet to move, one in front of the other until she reached a stairwell at the end of the row of cars.
The scent of fried food and garlic from a nearby Chinese restaurant greeted her as she emerged on the street corner. Normally, the smell would have made her stomach rumble, but tonight, the thought of eating made her feel sick.
As the light on the other side of the crosswalk lit up, she hurried to the sprawling brick building. She’d picked Joseph up for work once when his car was in the shop, but she hadn’t gotten farther than the curb.
Beneath an awning that spanned the side of the ground floor, string lights cast a warm glow on the tables and chairs of a depressed lounge. A couple groups of tenants had gathered, and a woman’s laughter followed Amelia through a glass set of double doors.
Part of her wanted to whirl around and ask the group what was so damn funny, but more than anything, she wished she was part of their gathering. She wished she was here to visit a normal friend, not a man who was blackmailing her for sex.
Maybe she could tell the women what had happened, and they’d be willing to hide her until Joseph forgot she existed.
No. She was a big girl who made her own choices…mostly.
Biting her tongue to will away tears, Amelia went pokerfaced as she gave Joseph’s apartment number to the older man seated behind a massive wooden desk. He pointed her to a hallway that ended in an elevator.
These days, all her smiles were fake, but she politely thanked the gentleman and started her walk of shame.
No one had the faintest clue why she’d come here. They didn’t know the war she’d waged in her head or the piece of herself she was about to lose.
She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to be here. With each step, she had to fight against every nerve and synapse in her brain screaming at her to turn around and go home. She shouldn’t have come. She should be at home, wondering why Hup wouldn’t eat food unless it was in the center of her bowl.
As she came face-to-face with the door to apartment 308, she fought against another wave of anxiety and knocked.
Amelia forced herself to focus on the part of her that expected Joseph to answer the door in a robe reminiscent of Hugh Hefner, with red-toned lights and a lava lamp as the only source of illumination. Throw in some shag carpet, satin sheets, and slow jazz music, and they’d have the makings of a romantic scene in the middle of a cheesy seventies action flick.
When the door swung inward, Amelia was almost surprised to see the normal, soft-white glow of an overhead light in a room beyond the foyer. Rather than a burgundy robe and slippers, Joseph was still wearing the white dress shirt, black slacks, and black socks he’d been wearing back at the office. His dark blond hair was windblown, but otherwise, his appearance was…normal.
Because this was a normal night for him.
Coercing a friend and coworker to screw him, subtly threatening to ruin her life and her career if she didn’t, was Joseph Larson’s normal.
Straightening the front of her black button-down, Amelia attempted to hold her fake smile as she met Joseph’s eyes. She wouldn’t show him how much he’d gotten to her. He might have the upper hand now, but he wasn’t going to break her.
Tonight…if she decided to go through with it…was a transaction, and that’s how she would treat it.
“Hey.” He gestured to the wide hall that led out of the foyer. “Come on in. How was the drive?”
Filled with loathing, Amelia stepped over the threshold. “It was fine.” She blinked to let her eyes adjust to
