But when she didn’t say anymore, Mick couldn’t believe it. He’d never met a thirty-two year old virgin in his life, let alone was attracted to one. He preferred experienced women. He was too damn old to be breaking some female in! Was his antenna off by that much?
But then Roz continued. “It’s not that either,” she said, and Mick inwardly sighed relief.
“Tell me what it is then,” he said. “You’re a New Yorker. You’ve been around this town for a long time. It can’t just be the words I spoke, or even the meaning behind those words. Unless you are not accustomed to guys coming onto you sexually.”
“It’s not about a guy coming onto me in a sexual way,” Roz said. She didn’t know why, but she felt a need to explain. “It’s about too many guys coming on to me that way. It’s about my ex-boyfriend, who was so insecure about guys coming onto me that he decided it was my fault for bringing so much attention to myself in the first place. He decided I was to blame for every cat-call, for every time some man thought I was easy, for every time some man put it in his perverted mind that I was the jump-off chick. So my ex took it upon himself to give me that attention he claims I craved and took naked photos of one of our intimate moments and blasted them all over his social media account. If you want her you can have her, was the caption. She’s cheap.”
Mick’s jaw tightened at the thought of some punk doing that to her.
“As soon as I found out,” Roz said, “I was heartbroken. But I was going to dump him with a blast too. But he wouldn’t even give me that satisfaction. He dumped me before I got the chance. I’m out, was the caption, with a picture of his penis coming out of my ass.”
Mick stared at her. “And what did you do about it?” he asked her.
“I wanted to go over to his apartment, boil a pot of grease until it was bubbling, and pour it all over his insecure ass.”
Mick stared at her. She would have to be an impulsive, straight-from-the-heart kind of chick to pull that off. And she wasn’t that girl at all. He’d eat his shoes if he was wrong.
“But I didn’t do it,” she said. He was right. “I couldn’t.”
Feeling satisfied that his antenna wasn’t off after all, he wanted to know more. “Why not?” he asked her.
“I couldn’t let some loser order my steps,” Roz explained. “I wasn’t going to jail over him. He wasn’t worth it. My only recourse was to sue him for blasting my image over the internet like that. But my lawyer said those were as much his photos as they were mine. He didn’t think I had a case.”
“You had a case,” Mick said. “You just had a sorry-ass lawyer.”
Roz smiled. “Well, it wasn’t just him. Nobody would take the case, and I’m not exactly made of money to force the issue. So I let it go. At least he was out of my life.” She looked at Mick, that anger he saw upstairs still riding her. “That’s why I don’t let any man play me cheap,” she said.
Mick liked her spunk. He liked her determination, her drive. She was fragile as hell and didn’t even know it, but she had some grit about her too. He liked this girl.
A limousine drove up as they were speaking. The driver, Deuce McCurry, a man who had been in Mick’s employ for twenty years, drove up and stopped at the curb. Deuce was an African-American male pushing sixty, but he was quick on his feet and even quicker at the wheel. He grabbed the umbrella and made his way to his boss.
“This is my ride,” Mick said. “I’ll give you a lift.”
Roz should not have been completely surprised that a man like him would get around in a limousine, especially since even she could see he was a man of some stature. But she was surprised. She’d never met anybody on his level so up close and personal. But going anywhere with him, after his proposition, was out of the question. “No,” she said. “But thanks.”
Deuce, who stood beside his boss with the umbrella at the ready, was surprised that she had turned Mick down. He looked at her.
“How are you going to get home?” Mick asked her.
“I’ll get home,” Roz said.
“I know you’ll get there. How will you get there is my question?”
“How I get there is my business,” Roz said, and then looked at him. She didn’t mean to be cruel, but no man was going to sell her cheap and then expect all to be forgiven this easily. “Have a nice day,” she added.
Mick wasn’t surprised by her saltiness. Given her history, it was expected. But his driver didn’t expect it. He never saw his boss go on like this with any female ever. Or allow one to talk to him the way this chick was talking. What was up with this?
Mick wanted to just leave. That was his usual way. Fuck’em and leave. But for some reason the idea of Roz making her way alone in this dreadful weather bothered him. “Don’t be foolish, Miss Graham. My driver will have no problem taking you home.”
“I told you no thank you. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Mick frowned. “Why not?”
Roz frowned. “Because I don’t know you like that. You’re a stranger to me.”