His lips curled into an evil smile.
“I knew it,” he said. “Amy Lynne has found herself a sugar daddy.”
“You don’t know shit.”
“I know you’re nothing but a goddamn whore if he’s paying you money to fuck you. And the only reason anyone would hire you is to fuck you, because you don’t have the brains of a slug.” He leaned in and glared at me. “Look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t fucked him already.”
He rolled his eyes and snorted a laugh. “I knew it,” he said. “You’re a goddamn whore.”
“I’m not a whore.”
“You take care of his snot-nosed kid in the daytime and fuck him at night. That makes you a whore, plain and simple.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know what I’m saying is true, and so do you. You might be having a good time now, fucking some rich dude for money, but I’d give it a week and you’ll be back here begging for a fucking job bagging groceries.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will.”
He took another step closer.
“And you know what I’ll say when you come crawling back to me, Amy Lynne?”
I slowly shook my head.
“I’ll say, ‘Sure thing, Amy Lynne. I’ll give you a job. Right after you come in the ladies’ restroom and suck my dick.’ Because all you’ve ever been is a fucking whore.”
He grabbed his crotch and shook it at me.
“It’ll be just like old times, Amy Lynne. Only this time maybe you won’t leave fucking teeth marks on my cock.”
I couldn’t stand to hear another word, because he made it sound so true.
If a man was paying you and you were fucking him, you were a whore…
I turned with Lizzie in my arms and ran out of the store, leaving the full cart of groceries and what was left of my dignity behind.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Jackson
“Jackson, these pages you emailed this morning are amazing,” Rosetta said, her face as large as life on the computer screen on my desk. She looked at me over the top of her glasses and frowned. “But are you sure this is the story you want to write?”
I shrugged at her. “Why wouldn’t I?”
She blew out a long sigh. “The story is just so…”
“Personal?”
“Yes.”
“It’s my story, Rose,” I said. “Who better to write it than me?”
She gave me a nod. “Well, this is an excellent start to the outline. I’ll send these pages over to the publisher today. When do you think you can have the rest of the outline?” She glanced away from the webcam to look at her desk calendar. “The deadline to have the full outline is on Monday. That gives you three days.”
“I’ll have it to you in plenty of time,” I said confidently. “Like I said before, the story is already written in my head. It won’t take me long to do the full outline.”
“Jackson, I’m so relieved,” she said with a smile. “I have to tell you, I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’ve been a little worried about myself, Rose,” I said with a smile. “But I have a feeling everything is going to be all right from now on.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you. I’ll chat with you soon. Keep up the good work.”
“I will. Chat soon,” I said.
I closed the Skype window and immediately called up the outline I’d worked on all night.
I read over the dozen pages I’d written without making a single change.
I rested my fingers on the keys and closed my eyes.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I opened my eyes and began to type.
*
It was almost five o’clock when I emerged from my office. I had gotten so wrapped up in my work that I’d forgotten to eat lunch. My stomach growled as I came into the kitchen.
“Hi, girls,” I said. Lizzie was in her high chair at the table. She threw up her hands and squealed at me when I came into the room. I leaned down to give her a kiss on the head and then went to the fridge for a soft drink.
I opened the refrigerator door and did a double take. The fridge was just as empty as it had been that morning. I glanced at Amy Lynne, who was standing at the stove, dishing vegetable soup into bowls. Two empty cans were on the counter.
“Hey, didn’t you go to the grocery store today?” I asked, my arm hanging over the door. “Wasn’t Coke on the list?”
She didn’t look at me. She filled two bowls with soup and carried them to the table. She set one bowl on my side of the table and the other in front of Lizzie, just out of reach.
“Careful, it’s hot,” Amy Lynne said quietly. She spooned out some soup and blew a cooling breath over it. Lizzie opened her mouth like a little bird and waited for the soup to cool. Amy Lynne dished the soup into her mouth and Lizzie smacked her lips.
“Amy Lynne?” I closed the refrigerator door and sat at the table across from her. “Is everything all right?”