Taking a long pull on her cigarette, she regards me thoughtfully and blows out a stream of smoke in my direction. I ignore the cloud of putrid air that engulfs me, keeping my eyes on her. I’m not backing down. My sass appears from nowhere and stands strong by my side.
‘Most women have fun with Miller Hart, sweet girl.’ She emphasises Miller’s term of endearment for me. ‘And some, like you, stupidly think they’ll get more. You won’t. In fact, I believe he called you “just a little girl who’s too curious for her own good. I’ve taken her money, had fun with her, nothing more.”’
Her claim makes my stomach turn, adding to all of the other unwanted reactions she’s spiking with her cruel words. ‘I knew what to expect from Miller. I’m not stupid. It was fun while it lasted.’
‘Hmmm,’ she hums, regarding me closely, nearly making me look away. But I don’t. I stand firm. ‘No one knows him like I do. I know him well,’ she claims.
I want to slap her. ‘How well?’ I don’t know where that question came from. I don’t want to know.
‘I know his rules. I know his habits. I know his demons. I know everything.’
‘You think he’s yours?’
‘I know he’s mine.’
‘You’re in love with him.’
Her hesitation tells me all I need to know, but I know she’ll confirm it. ‘I love Miller Hart deeply.’
The pressure around my neck increases, yet I manage to register the fact that she hasn’t claimed that Miller loves her. That knowledge strengthens my resolve. I’m not just some fling, some ‘curious girl’. Maybe in the beginning, but our equal fascination changed that very quickly. He can’t stand Sophia. He scrubbed, and I was there to care for him when he was in such a state. I have no fear that he loves this woman. She’s a client. She wants to be more, obviously, but to Miller she’s just another interferer who he’ll likely hurt should he see her again. She wants what she can’t have. To Sophia, Miller Hart is unobtainable, just as he is to every other woman. Except me. I already have him.
As the car pulls up to the kerb, she turns in her seat, facing me full-on, lifting her chin to exhale some smoke towards the roof of the car, this time sparing me the disgusting cloud. She shows a small amount of thoughtfulness through her layers of expensive make-up as she runs disapproving eyes up and down my body.
‘We’re done.’ She smiles as she signals to the door, a silent order to get out, which I do, eager to escape the chilly presence of this awful woman. I slam the door shut and turn as the window slides down. She’s sitting back in her seat, all casual and pretentious. ‘Nice talking.’
‘No, it wasn’t.’
‘I’m glad we’ve established where we stand. Miller can’t be getting caught up with silly little girls. It’ll be his demise.’ The window slides shut and the car pulls swiftly away, leaving me a trembling bunch of nerves on the roadside. I’m struggling to breathe past my fear, and however hard I try to calm myself, tell myself that she’s just trying to put the fear of God in me, I can’t help the tiniest fragment of worry from settling deep. No, it’s not a tiny fragment. It’s a meteor. Huge and damaging. And I’m scared it’s going to destroy us. Demise?
Reaching up to my neck through my fuzz of uncertainties, I begin a soothing rub over my flesh, but pause the moment it registers that there’s a reason I’m performing this action. I lift my hand and the hairs jump back up, making me swing around in search of my shadow. There are pedestrians everywhere, most moving fast, but no one looking particularly suspicious. My fear snakes up my spine, straightening my back. I’m being watched. I know I’m being watched. I’m frantic as I swing one way, my hair whipping my face, then the other in the hopes of something catching my eye – anything that will stop me from believing that I’m going stark-raving crazy.
There’s nothing.
But I know there’s something.
Sophia. But she’s gone. Or is this just the lingering after-effects of her recent presence? It’s possible; the woman has an unwanted lasting air about her.
I spin, my eyes darting as I try to gauge my surroundings and soon realise that I’ve been dumped a good mile away from Miller’s. Panic runs riot through my veins as I turn, running at full speed towards his apartment block. I don’t look back. I sprint through the streets, dodging people, crossing roads without looking until I see his building in the distance. It doesn’t give me any sense of relief.