On Thursday night, I hurried back to my flat after work. I took a quick shower and hopped in a pair of red jeans, a plain black tee-shirt, and my neon green Docs. I tied my hair into a messy bun on top of my head and used a red scarf as a headband. I refreshed my makeup but did not put more on since it was just a casual dinner.

Ginger Dude rang my doorbell at seven sharp. When I opened the door, it became clear that he had lied to me about the dress code. He was wearing a white button-down shirt, tan slacks, and brown Oxford shoes. His smile disappeared once he saw my outfit.

"You look... good," he lied, like he had been taught to when commenting on a woman's clothes.

"We both know you don't mean that," I called him out. "Didn't you say it was a casual dinner? Why are you so dressed up?"

"This is my casual outfit."

"No. This," I pointed at my body, "is casual. Come on in and make yourself comfortable, I'll change."

"We don't have time for that, and you look great anyway."

"Please. Spare us both our time and don't lie to me. You can either wait here or inside, but I'm changing either way. I'm not going into the lion's den underdressed."

He sighed but gave in and went to sit on my couch while I searched my closet.

"What should I wear?" I asked for advice.

"Anything you want," he replied, almost as reflex.

"What did I just say about not wasting time? You clearly have an opinion on the matter, just say it."

"Fine. A dress would be more appropriate, I suppose."

"I'll need more details. A long dress? A short one? Blue, green, red, purple, yellow?"

He wrinkled his nose as I listed the many colors of dresses I owned.

"Keep it simple," he advised. "A short black dress will do."

I put on a strapless, black tutu dress with royal blue pumps and a red faux-leather jacket. I styled my hair into a more sophisticated bun but kept the headband on, and I slightly darkened the makeup I already had on.

"I'm ready," I announced when I was done, twenty minutes later.

"Great. Can we go, now?" He looked impatiently at his watch.

GD's car was waiting for us in my building's lot. As the old-fashioned gentleman that he was, he opened the door for me to get in. The trip to our hosts' house was quiet and particularly uncomfortable.

What am I doing? I kept repeating in my head. I've agreed to escort my boss to a dinner party with people from the same world as him. They're going to eat me alive and spit me back out.

No. I would fight back.

"So, what's your strategy for tonight?" I asked.

"What do you mean?  I don't have any," he said.

"We need to set our stories straight in case people ask questions. First of all, I'll have to call you Arthur."

"All right, Abril."

"You can call me Abby, if you prefer."

"Abril is your name, I'll call you Abril."

It was nice to hear my real name, for once. Only my parents and other Latinos called me by my actual name. I had taken a habit of telling people to call me Abby after so many times being called April.

"Okay. We'll have to say we met no more than two months ago, so it's not abnormal l if you don't know things about me. Where did we meet?"

"At the store?" He proposed. "This way it's not a complete lie."

"Good thinking! How would you feel about touching each other during the dinner? Nothing scandalous but you could hold my hand or let it rest on my leg, small things like that. And I could do the same to you. Obviously, a kiss or two would help."

"God, no!" He visibly recoiled.

That the sole idea of kissing me disgusted him so much hurt me more than I would have liked to admit. Not that I cared about his opinion specifically, but it was always painful to be rejected with so much fervor.

Guess what, dude? You're not my type either!

"Don't take it personally," he said once he understood I wasn't particularly happy with his comment. "It's not that I don't want to kiss you in particular, I just don't kiss people with whom I'm not in a committed relationship. I also detest physical contact of any sort, so please don't try to touch me over dinner. It would be considered a public display of affection anyway, and that would be frowned upon by the other guests."

I hadn't realized that GD was so averse to being touched. That explained why he had reacted so intensely after my flirting number the other day. Well, that and the fact that he wasn't interested in my advances.

"They can frown all they want, I don't care," I said about the other guests.

"Well, I care. So please, behave."

"How the hell am I supposed to pretend to be your girlfriend if I can't touch you?"

"Just your coming with me should suffice."

"That's ridiculous. I could be your friend."

"Believe me, that's not the kind of event where you bring a friend. They'll buy it. All you have to do is stay close to me and not attract attention."

GD turned right into a driveway and stopped the car. He opened the passenger door for me and gave me his hand to help me out of his very low car. The house where we were having dinner was charming; large, of course, but not obnoxiously so. The walls were made of stones, the grass was green and closely manicured, and colorful, healthy flowers were decorating every window.

"Whose house is it, by the way?" I asked.

"It's Claire and Anthony Bishop's."

"Bishop, huh? The one with whom you exchange secret messages?"

"Himself."

"Will I ever know why you two communicate that way?"

"Not a chance."

That was direct, to say the least. I would have to investigate that later. We reached the front door and GD rang the bell. I grabbed his hand and placed it on my waist so we didn't look so distant. He was going to remove it when Mr. Bishop appeared on his doorstep.

"Arthur!" He greeted him and shook his free hand. "I'm delighted to see you, you've kept us waiting!"

"Sorry for being late, Anthony. Abril had trouble finding out what to wear for tonight."

That wasn't very chivalrous, but I let it slide. We were, indeed, late because of me. Anthony took a few seconds to scan my clothes.

"Obviously," he stated before shaking my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, April. I'm Anthony Bishop."

I don't know what infuriated me the most: the fact that Bishop openly insulted my outfit or the fact that Dullac did not even try to defend me. I hadn't even set foot inside the damn house that the fight had already started. I was truly entering the lion's den, and it was clear that Dullac was not going to be my ally. I was alone.

"It's Abril," I replied politely. "The pleasure is mutual."

We followed Bishop inside and arrived in a large open-plan living room, with a high ceiling and a burning fire in the built-in gas fireplace. Several couples were already there, sitting in dark brown couches. Every one of them did a double take when they took in Arthur's date. They didn't bother to be discreet. A woman wearing an apron – most probably Claire – welcomed us and invited us to sit with the others while she finished preparing the dinner.

We greeted everyone one by one because the etiquette said we had to, then we sat down next to each other. There were eight people other than Claire and Anthony, all paired up in a very heterosexual way: Margaret and George, Sabrina and Carl, Emily and Simon, Helen and Peter. All had something to say about GD's unusual tardiness, but none questioned my presence there. Maybe Arthur was right, they were too 'polite' to ask him about me.

"April," Claire asked when she came back from the kitchen, "what do you want to drink?"

This was a simple question, but it was crucial that my answer be correct. I searched GD's look for some help, but he was absorbed in his discussion with Carl. I had to figure it out on my own. I couldn't possibly ask for vodka, although I craved some, because they would think I'm an alcoholic. Wine was for dinner, Coke would have them think I'm a child, which I'm sure they already did since I was the youngest by far. I could only see one viable choice left, and I hoped it was the right one.

"I'll have a whisky, please. No ice," I requested, not bothering to correct her about my name.

Everyone turned their faces to me at once.

Wrong choice, it looks like.

Claire hid her surprise as much as she could and served me what I had asked for. All the others asked for champagne. Why did she have to ask me first?

"Tell me, April," George, the oldest man in the room, began. "What do you do for a living?"

Great, an easy question.

"At the moment, I am Arthur's personal assistant at VDO's."

"You have a job at VDO's?" Emily interjected. "How did you do? Simon has never been able to get me one."

The small inflexion on 'me' did not go unnoticed by me. Ten minutes of knowing me was enough for her to assume that she was more qualified than me.

"I'm sure it's easy to get a job there when you are dating the CEO's son," Helen piled on.

Bitch!

Some people chuckled. I turned to Arthur. He had stopped talking with Carl and was watching our exchange, but he had no intention to take my defense. Anger began to boil inside me. I clenched and unclenched my fists several times so I wouldn't lose it already.

"Actually, Arthur has nothing to do with my current position," I replied calmly and politely. "I made it there on my own."

"Yeah, that's what they all say," bitch Helen went on.

I peeped once again at GD on my right. He was still carefully avoiding my gaze, examining the content of his glass.

"When you say you're his assistant 'at the moment'," Claire tried to diffuse the tension, "what do you mean? You'll quit so it doesn't interfere with your relationship?"

"Not at all. It's just that it's a temporary job," I explained. "I'm a temp worker, I finish my assignment at VDO's tomorrow. After that I'll go back to the store where I work the rest of the time."

"Why don't you work there on a full-time position?"

"Because it's exciting to wake up on Monday mornings not knowing what my week will be like. I love having multiple jobs, it means my life is never boring."

"And you believe that way of living is sustainable?" Margaret intervened.

I was being attacked from all sides, now. And GD had still not lifted a finger to help me out of that situation. He would pay for that.

"Yes ma'am," I asserted. "I do."

She looked at me with eyes full of disdain. I was not going to hold long. I needed to calm down if I didn't want to cause a scene, and for that I needed nicotine.

"Claire, where can I go for a cigarette?" I asked the lady of the house.

Once again, my words attracted all eyes on me.

"You can go to the patio, I'll lead you."

"Don't bother, Claire," GD spoke up for the first time since we'd entered the house as I was getting up. "Abril knows I don't like it when she smokes, so she will abstain for tonight."

What? WHAT? I was doing him the favor of the century and that's how he'd decided to treat me? I was at a loss for words to describe the anger I was feeling, and the humiliation.

I had the urge to make a scene so he could feel a tenth of the embarrassment I felt at that moment. And I wanted to rip that nasty grin off Helen's mouth. But in the lion's den, screaming and yelling and punching did not get you far. If you wanted to be lethal, you had to be subtle. I could do subtle. I think.

"You're right, babe. I shouldn't smoke," I said with a sweet, deadly smile that fooled everyone one but him.

Arthur glared at me for calling him 'babe'.

I'll make you regret playing with me, darling.

I docilely put my tobacco back in my purse and bit my tongue very hard. Everyone had their eyes locked on me as I twined my fingers with GD's and kissed our joined hands. I could tell he wanted to pull away, but he couldn't risk his 'friends' finding out about his stupid lie.

"You shouldn't drink alcohol," I whispered into his ear to make it look like I was sensually talking to him. "You're driving us home, remember?"

"It's just this one drink," he whispered too. "I won't drink wine during dinner. Now let go of my hand, they're watching us."

I was upset that he hadn't accepted to abandon his glass of champagne, so I pushed it even further.

"I know," I replied, then lightly kissed the corner of his mouth while he just sat, powerless and immobile.

Someone cleared their throat. George, I think.

"Sorry about that," I faked being embarrassed. "I got a little distracted." I blinked several times, pretending to be the dumb loving girlfriend that I wasn't.

"Dinner is ready!" Claire suddenly announced.

We all got up to sit at the pretty table Mrs. Bishop had laid for us. I was seated between Arthur and Peter, who was the youngest, only a couple years older than me, and the nicest of the men there. Each person had three sets of cutlery but, fortunately, I had watched enough movies to know that I had to start with the ones on the outside and work my way in.

"So, Abril," Peter turned to me, "how long have you been with Arthur?"

This was supposed to be a private conversation, but everyone had stopped talking to listen to my answer.

"Two months," I simply replied.

"Come on, don't be shy. Tell me the story. Where did you two meet? How is it going between you two? Do you have any long-term plans?"

His assumption that I was shy made me smile. If only he knew how mistaken he was...

"That's none of your business, Peter," Peter's partner, bitch Helen, intervened.

"Helen's right," GD added. "I don't think Abril is comfortable speaking about this."

You definitely shouldn't have said that, sweetheart.

"Actually, I'm okay. But thank you for your concern," I told both Helen and GD.

Peter muffled a laugh.

"I met Arthur at the clothes store where I work. It's called Eleanart's, have you heard about it?"

His eyes switched to GD.

"Isn't that—"

"Yes, it is," GD cut him off dryly.

Weird.

There was a short awkward silence then Peter went on. Every guest still had their attention focused on us. Hadn't they something better to do? Wasn't there a stock exchange trend to be discussed?

"I'm glad he's found someone. You seem to be a decent woman, he's a lucky man."

That compliment earned him a lethal glare from Helen.

"Thank you, Peter," I said as I casually put my hand on his shoulder and flashed him a sexy look.

Take that, bitch!

"Why do you wear your hair pink? It's not very professional," Emily asked, clearly attacking me to help her dearest friend Helen.

"Erm... Because I like pink?" I answered the idiotic question idiotically.

"Aren't you afraid to not be taken seriously?"

"Well, I have a position in one of the fastest-growing companies of LA, so I guess I am taken seriously enough," I retorted dryly.

What was everyone's problem with my hair? There were so many worse things that employees could do than having colorful hair.

Claire cut short to our conversation by bringing the starter to the table: lobster bisque with garlic croutons. I took a spoonful of it and my taste buds exploded with joy. I had rarely tasted better food.

"Oh my God, Claire!" I exclaimed. "It's delicious!"

Once again, I was the target of judgmental looks. That's when I understood why I would never be accepted by those human beings: those freaks didn't like people who showed emotions. Everything in their lives had to be moderated and watered down, or else it wasn't appropriate.

"Thank you, April," Claire still answered.

"Is it all homemade?"

"Yes. I even had to kill the lobsters myself. I nearly fainted when I boiled them alive."

"If that's any consolation, it was totally worth it because this dish is succulent!" I said loudly and with enthusiasm, just to piss off everyone at the table. "I would ask for the recipe, but I don't cook."

My latest remark made her giggle, but I heard GD groan.

Haven't you had enough already?

"Hang on, honey," I told him just before he took another spoonful of his dish. "You've got something on your cheek."

I took the corner of my towel and rubbed away an imaginary stain on his cheek. I could feel the many disapproving looks cast upon us.

"Stop whatever you're doing," GD whispered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I responded.

If he thought it was going to be that easy, he was much dumber than I had assumed. I watched his powerlessness with great delight. I went as far as placing my hand on the back of his neck and gently caressing the skin at the base of his skull. I felt him tense up, but he didn't dare say anything.

"I know what you're doing," Peter whispered to me from my other side. "And I can help you."

"Really?"

He nodded. I let go of GD's neck, much to his relief, and focused on Peter.

"That's some nice shoes you are wearing, Abril," he said in a louder voice for our audience to hear us. "Is this a gift from Arthur?"

I immediately understood where he was going with that.

"Thanks. Yes, he bought them for me a few days ago. Arthur is very generous. Aren't you, baby?" GD glared at me. "He often buys me presents; and when he can't buy something for me himself, he gives me his credit card so I can treat myself. Just yesterday I bought a new Valentino dress, I can't even describe how gorgeous it is. Definitely worth the eight thousand dollars."

People's eyes, especially Arthur's, were round as saucers. I was ecstatic.

"Wow, that's very generous of him, indeed," Peter piled on.

"Yes, he's great, isn't he? And that's not his only quality. He's also a very understanding man, he gets who I am. He understands that I have some needs he can't fulfill on his own, and he's fine with that."

"What kind of needs?"

I faked being embarrassed for a couple seconds. "Romantic ones. I physically cannot have only one partner, it's just impossible for me. Arthur understands that and doesn't mind when I get involved with other people. He even encourages me to do so."

Peter struggled to suppress a laugh while the other guests choked on their food.

"You mean you two are in some kind of open relationship?" Margaret eventually said.

"Exactly. Exclusivity is such an overrated concept."

More coughs, more hateful glares.

I could feel everyone there was impatient to harass Arthur with questions and remarks about how disgraceful a girlfriend I was. I took it as my cue to disappear for a few minutes.

"I need to pee. Claire, where is the bathroom?"

"Down the hall on your left, then last door on your right."

I got up and stepped in the hallway. I shut the door behind me but, instead of going to the bathroom, I stayed where I was to make sure I wouldn't miss a word of what would be said about me.

Let the show begin.

Everyone started to talk at the same time once the door closed but I managed to make out which voice belonged to whom.

"Arthur, I'm very concerned about your relationship with this woman. It's not healthy." Margaret.

"Have you told Eleanor? How does she feel about this?" Sabrina.

"Can't you see she's after your money? Leave her before she drains out your bank accounts." George.

"Are you sure she didn't give you an STI? You should get tested soon." Helen.

"How can you agree that she sleeps with other men? That's disgusting!" Carl.

"Isn't she a little young and unstable for you?" Simon.

"Don't rush into a relationship just because you feel lonely. Take the time to find the right woman." Claire.

"I guess we still won't see you in a viable relationship anytime soon." Anthony.

"Do you think you can introduce that kind of girl to your parents?" Emily.

"Wow!" Peter shouted above everyone else and the room went quiet. "Do you even hear yourselves? Do you realize how awful and unfair you're being to her although you don't know her? The truth is, she's nicer than most of you!"

My heart melted a little. Peter was definitely a good guy. What the hell was he doing with Helen?

"You're joking, right?" His bitch wife gasped. "Haven't you heard a word of what she said?"

Peter chuckled. "Do you honestly believe anything she's said is true? Arthur, can you corroborate anything she's said?"

"No."

"Why would she purposely pretend to be a whore?" Helen asked.

"Helen!" Peter chastised her for insulting me, then he answered her question. "It seems obvious to me. She got tired of her boyfriend not defending her against all of you, so she decided to have some fun at your expense, and his. I cannot believe I'm the one speaking up for her right now and not you, Arthur."

There was a long silence, then GD finally spoke. "You're right, Peter," he said and I heard a chair scrape against the floor; he must have gotten up. What a drama queen. "You've all insulted my partner, even though you're supposed to be my friends. What kinds of friends do that?"

"Come on! We were nice to her until she admitted to screwing all of LA!" Anthony retorted.

I couldn't help but notice that, once the emotions were running high, those snobs weren't so polite anymore.

"You made fun of her first with that disobliging comment about her clothes. What reason did you have to be hurtful then?"

It was a bit late to say something about it but, at least, he had noticed.

"It was just a joke! What else was I supposed to say? I was under the impression that I would finally meet the woman of your life, but what I got to meet is something between a clown and a hooker!"

"You're going too far, I will not let you insult her."

"You're seriously defending her? What kind of sick relationship do you two have? You're her sugar daddy or something?"

"Please, Anthony. Don't you dare criticize my relationship unless you want me to point out publicly why yours is falling apart."

GD's last sentence made everyone fall silent. My inner gossip alarm went off on full power inside my head. Something was going on within the Bishop couple, and you could bet I was going to investigate that matter.

I could feel the heavy atmosphere from where I was. I chose this moment to come back into the living room. Arthur was still standing, both his hands balled against his thighs, his eyes glaring at Anthony.

"Dullac," the latter said. "You should take your girl with you and leave my house."

"I was just about to do that. Abril, get your things, we're leaving. Right now."

"But we've only eaten the starter," I whined. Not that I wanted to stay but the food was very tasty.

"I'll take you to the restaurant. Come on."

I didn't argue and took my purse and my jacket.

"Thank you for the dinner, Claire," GD said. "And I apologize for the inconvenience."

Without further ado, we left that damn house.

"What the fuck was that?" I let out once in the car, pretending not to be aware of the quarrel that had happened while I supposedly was in the bathroom.

"I should be the one asking that question. What were you thinking? Why did you tell all those disgusting lies about us? Why did you act like a teenager with me? I told you to be quiet and not to attract attention!"

"Are you for real? I did it because you let them all humiliate and, worse, you humiliated me yourself!"

"I humiliated you?" He snorted. "You must be joking."

"I can't believe you don't even realize it. What was that about you ordering me not to smoke? Or you not correcting Helen when she said I got my job by sleeping with you? Or even you letting Anthony make fun of my clothes? Those people are monsters, I'm furious that you took me there."

"And I'm furious you made me fight with my friends."

How dense could a human being be?

"You really didn't understand anything, did you? These people are not your friends. They had no right to treat me the way they did. When they insulted me, they insulted you too, you dumbass. You don't mean squat to them and yet you're defending them."

"You're delusional."

"And you're an asshole. I stood up for myself against your crowd as best as I could and I'm not sorry about it."

"Grown-ups sort out their problems more intelligently, you know?"

"Are you implying I'm stupid?"

"No. I'm implying you've acted like an attention-seeking child."

I'll give you attention-seeking child.                                                                

"Enough. Pull over. I'm getting out of this car."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'll drive you home."

"I swear, if you don't pull over, I'll jump off while we're still moving."

I opened my door to show that I meant it. GD immediately pulled over on the side of the road. I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the vehicle.

"You understand that I won't leave you alone here, in the middle of the night?" He asked.

I scavenged into my purse until I found the keys to my apartment. One of my keyrings was a small pike meant to break windows in case of emergency, and potentially stab an aggressor.

"If you don't leave right now, I'll destroy your windows. You have three seconds. One... Two..."

"All right, all right. I'm leaving," he surrendered.

He shut the passenger door and I watched his car drive away from me. Then I had to find a way to get home.

Walking to the next metro station appeared to be the best idea. It wasn't that far, and I didn't want to spend money on an Uber. I removed my shoes, rolled a cigarette, and got going. A few drivers honked at me, and I replied with my middle finger. Others proposed to drive me home, but I wasn't dumb enough to fall for it. LA was far from safe during the day, but it was way worse at night. I'd rather ruin my feet walking barefoot all the way to my place than getting in one of those cars.

Wandering alone in the night got me thinking. I kept replaying the events of the dinner in my head and, no matter how I put it, Arthur was always at fault. It was no other's fault but his if that dinner had gown south. If he had stood by my side, everything would have been fine. The more I remembered his face when he'd told Claire I wouldn't smoke, the more I got mad. He had it coming, I was not sorry.

After twenty minutes of walking barefoot, I finally reached a metro station. It wasn't really late, there were still loads of people taking the metro, making it much safer. I put my shoes back on and navigated in the underground corridors until I found the right track. Three minutes later, my train arrived.

When I couldn't find a free seat and had to stand for the whole journey, I thought that, had I been less proud and stubborn, I would be in my bed already.

I got off the train and hopped on the bus, then I finally made it to my place. Someone was sitting on the porch steps. At first, I thought it was a client of my drug dealer neighbor, they made their deals there sometimes, the cops didn't patrol this area much. But as I approached, I made out a flock of red hair standing out from the dark porch.

I retreated instinctively. If I was quiet enough, I could hide and wait for him to leave.

His head popped up when he heard a plastic wrapper crunch under the sole of my shoe.

"Abril!" He called out, then began to run after me.

I started to run too.

I had only covered a few feet when one of my heels got stuck into a manhole. I fell face first on the road.

"Puta!" I swore.

My hands, my knees, and my chin were scraped. It stung but no severe harm had been done. GD was next to me in seconds.

"Oh God! Are you okay?" He inquired, crouching down beside me.

He tried to take my hand to help me up, but I pushed it away. He couldn't be a total jerk one second and a knight in shining armor the next.

I got up on my own but, as soon as I put my weight on my left foot, I collapsed again. There may have been a little damage after all. GD tried to grab me before I fell, but he failed miserably.

"Puta!" I swore again.

I looked at my ankle; it was a little swollen already, but no bruise was showing. It couldn't be too serious, I would be able to walk in the morning.

"I'm calling 911," GD said, already taking his phone out of his pocket.

"Don't be ridiculous," I laughed. "You'd only be bothering them, it's nothing."

For once, he listened to me and put away his phone. I took my shoes off and managed to get up by putting all my weight on my right foot. GD made to wrap his arm around my waist but my glare made him take a step back.

"Now you're being ridiculous," he stated. "You can't just hop on one leg all the way back to your apartment, let me help."

Challenge accepted.

"Watch me."

I grabbed my shoes in one hand, my purse in the other, and started hopping through the parking lot. He followed but did not dare touch me.

Then my valid leg betrayed me and eventually buckled. This time, he had the time to catch me before I fell again.

"Enough!" He said with finality.

Suddenly and without an invitation, he enclosed me in his arms and lifted me off the floor. He started walking to my building's front door.

"Put me down, now!" I yelled and attempted to push myself off his chest. It was surprisingly hard.

"No. I'm taking you up to your apartment, whether you want it or not."

I thrashed, and wrestled, demanding to be let down like a bratty kid who was being taken to bed, but he didn't budge. He entered the building and carried me all the way up the stairs, until we reached my doorstep, on the fourth floor. He put me back on my feet – my foot – and snatched my purse from my hands. He scavenged into it and collected my key.

"Hasn't your mother told you not to look into a lady's bag?"

"You are a lady, now?" He retorted. "All I see is a tantrum-throwing child."

"You son of a b—"

I did not have the opportunity to finish the insult for he had unlocked my door and taken me back in his arms.

He stepped into my flat and laid me down on the couch. Without asking permission, he took some ice cubes from my freezer and wrapped them in a dishcloth.

Sitting next to me on the couch, he grabbed my feet to pin them down on his lap. I tried to move my legs but his hold on me was strong as steel.

"Stop moving or I'll tie you up," he threatened through gritted teeth.

"What a happy coincidence," I taunted. "I like bondage, too!"

My comment made him blush. However, he did not lose face. He kept my legs pinned down onto his thighs, looking utterly disgusted by my soles, filthy from walking barefoot in the streets. Good. If I couldn't physically do anything to him, at least I could make him feel bad mentally.

"For somebody who doesn't like physical contact, you sure have been touching me a lot since I fell."

He ignored me and applied the homemade ice pack on my left ankle.

"Dios mío!" I cried out when it touched my skin. "Está frío!"

I reflexively pulled my foot back to escape the icy torture, but it was firmly held in place.

"You'll hurt yourself," he warned.

He had not even finished his sentence that a jolt of pain radiated from my ankle. I muffled a scream and resigned myself to stay still. After a few minutes, my foot started to go numb and the pain started to fade. I welcomed the relieving sensation with a pleased sigh. But it did not make me forget why I had hurt myself in the first place.

"You've satisfied your daily need of chivalry, now?" I snarked.

"If I were truly chivalrous, I would have not driven away when you got out of the car," he muttered under his breath. "I am sorry, Abril," he said louder.

"I don't care."

He didn't seem shocked by my response, although a little hurt. When he didn't say anything, I asked him to leave.

"I need to speak with you, and I am not leaving until I've told you what I have to tell you."

"You called me a child, Dullac, but you are the one acting like a goddamn spoiled brat, right now."

"Learning from the best, I guess. Just hear me out and I'll leave, I promise."

I winced when I tried to wrench my legs out of his grip. He caught my movement and an insolent smile spread on his lips.

"I am truly sorry," he said. "It was a mistake to take you to that dinner. My friends were mean to you and I apologize for subjecting you to that."

I didn't respond nor move. It was far from being enough.

"And I apologize for my behavior too," he went on. "I should have stood up for you when they treated you badly."

"It wasn't just your friends who treated me badly," I couldn't help adding. "You did too."

"You're right, I did. And I should have insisted on driving you back home. I don't know how I let you convince me to leave you alone. That was very stupid of me, I swear I will never do it again."

"I'm glad you acknowledge it. But I don't accept your apology."

He looked utterly shocked. "Why?"

"You've been awful to me, today. So have your so-called friends. It would be too easy if you just had to say a few words and, hurray! you're forgiven."

"I've defended you, you know? When you were in the bathroom, I spoke up for you."

"Peter did," I corrected him. "You only ended what he had already begun."

He didn't even seem surprised to find out that I had been eavesdropping.

"I have to say I expected a little indulgence from you since you haven't been a model of perfection either."

I laughed sarcastically. "You never cease to amaze me, Dullac."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes! I did cause a scene, but it was called for. Had I been left alone, this dinner would have gone okay."

"It's never called for to act like an idiot."

By reflex, my right hand rose to smack his face. He had foreseen it and caught my wrist mid-movement. My left hand, with which I had hoped to have more luck, suffered the same fate. We stayed like that, my hands awkwardly hung in the air, for a few seconds.

"I've known you have a violent streak since I found you fighting with that waitress, but I would have never imagined being on the receiving end of it. You must be really upset."

I tried harder to get out of his grip. To no avail.

Are you done?" He taunted me, shaking his head in amusement as if I were an endearing child. "Wait, are you married?" he asked suddenly, his tone now much more serious.

Huh?

"No," I answered, confused by his question.

"You're wearing a wedding ring," he said, looking at my left hand that he was still holding.

All my alarms went off at a deafening volume.

Abort. I repeat, Abort. Get yourself out of this situation, Abs.

"It's just a regular ring," I lied. "An heirloom."

I tried to pull free again, but he did not budge.

"The placement can't be a coincidence. It has to be a wedding ring. Or an engagement ring, maybe."

"If you are not so subtly asking if I'm single, the answer is yes."

He ignored me and inspected my hand closer.

"You've got a tattoo. Espérame, corazón. JIP." He read the words inked on my finger with a thick accent. "What does that mean? I can speak some French but no Spanish, I'm afraid."

My heart was pounding in my chest. My palms were sweaty, my breathing shallow. We were skating on thin ice. I couldn't allow him to make one more step further into my private life.

I finally managed to wrench away from his grip and got up on my one foot. I was furious and he must have sensed it.

"Out. Now," I demanded with uncharacteristic calm.

He stood up too.

"Abril, please. I won't ask about the ring anymore, but what can I do for you to forgive me?"

Nothing. I don't want to forgive you.

That's what I should have replied. That would have been the most sensible answer, the most logical one. But my mind decided to remember the conversation I had had with Cedric a few days earlier and I answered the most stupid thing one could ever say.

"Sleep with me," I said.

Saying that he was shocked would be a major understatement. I wanted to slap myself for saying this out loud. I wasn't thinking clearly.

But it was too late to backtrack. All I could do was stick to it and play along. He would either accept my sexual advances, or they would make him leave. Win-win.

"You cannot be serious," he said.

"I am."

"Do you really think I'm prepared to buy your forgiveness with sexual favors?"

"I don't know, and I don't care, what you're prepared to do. This is my offer, take it or leave it."

"You know I can't accept that. There must be something else that I can do for you. Like taking you out for dinner, taking you to a fundraising gala, that kind of thing."

"The only thing I could possibly want from you is sex," I stuck to my position.

"I won't give it to you."

"Then you can leave, Mr. Dullac," I said as I escorted him to the door as well as I could with my twisted ankle.

"You disappoint me, Abril," he had the guts to say.

"And I don't care what you think of me. Goodbye," I slammed the door behind him as he eventually left my apartment.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A/N: Next chapter will be on Wednesday (when I'll have yet another rugby game), please let me know what you think so far!

Love,
Charlie.