Mistress on Her Knees by Anastasia Vitsky

Author:Anastasia Vitsky [Vitsky, Anastasia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00T6JDUGW
Goodreads: 24852046
Published: 2015-03-01T03:00:00+00:00

Moving In

Present day

Once we enter my apartment, Trinity trudges after me with a mixture of guilt and crossness. She never did like facing consequences, and she hated admitting her limitations. We could not fix the situation with Hana and Mira, although instinct tells me they will find their way back together somehow. Perhaps they will let us know, but more likely they will find us irrelevant once they heal. No news, in this case, will have to mean good news.

As to Trinity and I, my two-bedroom apartment looms smaller than I remembered. Do I give her a yo floor mattress to put in the limited space in the playroom, or should she sleep in the living room? I will not share my bedroom. Human decency requires providing her a place to live, nothing more. I can’t believe she lost her passport. The cynical part of me wonders if the timing is too convenient. Without a passport, Hana and Mira would have had to host Trinity for longer. Now, she will stay with me instead.

“Shower’s in there.” I toss a towel and washcloth onto the bathroom counter.

“Don’t worry about me,” she says stiffly. “I know you don’t want me here. I’ll get a hotel room instead.”

“With what money? You’re unemployed, remember?” As much as I don’t want her here, I can’t abide foolishness. “You’ll stay here for a day or two until you can get your passport and go home. That’s all. I’m not proposing marriage. Take a shower.”

She stands in the doorway, still holding onto her black nylon suitcase and overstuffed duffel bag carry-on.

“What?” My conscience pricks me.

“I know you hate me…”

Her chin quivers. Damn it. I can’t stand when her chin quivers. Pretty soon her eyes will fill up, and she’ll tuck her head toward her chest like a turtle wishing for its protective shell.

“I don’t want to be here, either.” She backs up toward the door, as if she has somewhere else to go.

The shred of sympathy vanishes. Will she run down the stairs next, dropping her credit card reader and vanishing into the night? Is it too much to say a simple thank you for hosting her? Why must she make everything so complicated?

“It’s one night, Trinity.” I yank away her suitcase and push her toward the bathroom. “You already decided you didn’t want forever.”

She puts her hand over mine, freezing in an action shot of taking and receiving. “What if I did? What if I still do?”

I stare at her, but she does not look away. She gazes into my eyes with a strength I never knew she had, and it is I who must yield.

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