him. Seth stepped back.
She clicked her tongue and sighed in what sounded like genuine disappointment and he almost felt sad for her until she added, âYour problem is youâre not nasty enough.â
âThe hell Iâm not.â Certifiable. She had to be.
âYouâre not,â she said, emphatically, turning slowly to face him. âYou ruined it when you said youâd brought coffee to my house. A nasty guy wouldnât bring coffee.â
He gripped her arm, gave it a shake. âI am not nice. And you donât make a bluff like that based on whether or not I bought you coffee . What if I was some psycho?â
âI didnât say you were nice. I said you werenât nasty enough. Not nasty enough to do ⦠this.â She waggled her finger between their bodies, like a pheromone metronome. âNot properly.â
âGo sit there, crazy girl. Let me think.â He pushed her gently toward the couch and watched her walk away, remembering how beautiful she was when she moved, forgetting whatever it was he needed to think about.
Lucky for him, Remy sat with her knees pressed together and her palms on her knees. The clutch and release of her fingers in the fabric of her trousers was the only sign that gave her tension away.
Where to start? He had so many questions. âYouâre not gay?â
âIâm not.â
âYou werenât spinning that story for a bloke, surely.â
âNo. Not a bloke.â
This was like pulling teeth with a pair of tweezers. âThen why do you do it?â
âDo what?â
âMake phone calls like that. Whatâs that all about?â
She lifted her chin. âI do it for the money, Seth. So I can pay the bills.â
âAnd you didnât want to tell me your mum stacked shelves.â He shook his head. Give him another few minutes and he might find this whole thing funny. Not quite yet. âThereâs nothing wrong with working at a supermarket, Remy. Compared toââ
âCompared to what I do?â She cut him off.
âItâs only one step from a prostitute, Remy. And a baby bloody step at that.â He didnât like it. He didnât like one bit of it, and there wasnât much use pretending otherwise. âThere are other ways to get money, like a loan from a bank. Did you ever think of doing that?â
âYou find me the bank that will loan a twenty-three-year-old girl who hasnât held a job more than six months, and her unskilled mother, any money. We donât have any savings. We donât have any collateral except Mumâs crapped out Nissan.â
âWhat bills are we talking about here exactly? I get the impression weâre talking about more than a utilities bill, or the rent?â
She pinched the knee of her pants. âItâs not about paying bills, so much.â
âAre you in debt, Remy? You and your mum?â The urge to look after her gripped him. âYou could ask for an advance on salary. Weâve done that before when staff members have been experiencing hardship. Itâs no big deal.â
âI bet you have a policy for it.â
He did, but damned if he was confirming that right now. âYou need to ask your manager for an advance. I think we advance up to two weeksâ pay. Greg Trimble brings the request to the board or to me. Depending on what the problem is, we might be able to do more than two weeks.â
Her shoulders did this little jump when he said two weeksâ, like she found it funny. âThanks for the offer, Seth. But weâre fine.â
âWhat kind of debt are we talking about here, Remy?â
âItâs nothing. Donât worry. Iâm used to looking after myself.â She picked up the pages of the itinerary sheâd knocked off the couch earlier and sneaked a peak. âCharles de Gaulle?â
Changing the subject. âThatâs in Paris.â
âI
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