Page 28 of The Art of Almost Losing It
“I’m just trying to see what kind of moron I’m dealing with here.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Mmm. You did forget to lock the door to my prison.”
“It’s a closet. A very high-end closet.”
“Twice. You forgot it twice. But sure, let’s all go out in public. Where there are people with phone cameras. I’m assuming you’re paying.”
His nostrils flare.
“I do have a way to make you cooperate. Make you be the loving, attentive girlfriend I know you can be.” His voice takes on a mocking lilt.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ll… I’ll hurt your dog if you don’t cooperate.”
“Just—Lulu! Don’t hurt Lulu!” I beg him, clutching my little dog to my chest.
His arm lashes out and grabs an expensive vase.
It crashes on the wall above my head while Lulu barks.
I crumple into tears and squeeze my dog.
“Stop crying!” he bellows.
“Please don’t hurt Lulu, please!”
He grabs my jaw, forcing my chin up.
“Are you going to play along and be the perfect loving girlfriend?”
I nod, blinking away the tears.
“Good girl.”
He leans in close to my neck.
I can smell his aftershave.
I turn away from that handsome, evil face. The early morning sun catches the tears on my eyelashes.
“You’re afraid of me. Good.” He crowds into my space, forcing me to yield to him.
I see the thrill of satisfaction on his face when I do, handing him the dog.
“Now let’s go to brunch. I think you’ve had a difficult evening.”
6
GRAHAM
“You don’t look like the girlfriend of a billionaire,” I say to the windshield as we drive down Fifth Avenue. “You couldn’t have at least put on some makeup?”
She lets out a sob next to me.
I glance at her. Her face is splotchy, her eyes are big and dilated. She’s still at the disbelief stage. She looks like she hasn’t slept. Her hands twist in her lap.
