Victor seemed like he wanted to say something, but the man in the suit beat him to it.
– Oh, I've ruined the surprise – he stammered, flustered. – It's a beauty, ma'am. I'd love to have one myself. A Porsche 911 Carrera, absolutely stunning...
Victor finally managed to silence and dismiss the man, but it didn't matter anymore.
– And a fucking car too? – I hissed through gritted teeth, struggling to contain the rising wave of anger. What the fuck was this? Premium Christmas for lending my pussy for his use?!
– You're my girlfriend – he replied, as if that was reason enough to give me something so expensive. – Your safety is my top priority.
I furrowed my brow, and the little voice inside me narrowed its eyes suspiciously.
– Safety? – I growled skeptically. – Does that car have a hidden gun somewhere?
Victor was evidently prepared for that question because he answered very quickly.
– So you won't have to ride that infernal machine anymore. That's the first reason – he stated smoothly, presumably referring to my motorcycle, but before he spoke again, he made a significantly longer pause, so I watched him closely, waiting for the "second reason". – And secondly, so that someone is always with you – he finally added, barely noticeably averting his gaze, and I knew then that this generous gesture had a hidden agenda.
– What? – I scoffed sarcastically. – Is the car supposed to keep me company or something?
– It comes with a driver – Victor replied matter-of-factly. – That was Jakob – he added, presumably referring to the man he had just stared down like a basilisk. – He'll drive you around so you don't get hurt, and if need be, to have someone there to protect you.
The little voice inside me scoffed ostentatiously and took on a combative stance.
– And to make sure no guy approaches me? – I voiced the question the little voice was itching to ask. – Are you insane?! Not only do you want to install me in this fortress – I gestured around – but you also want to cart me around like a child and for so much money?
– You don't know how much it cost – he almost immediately retorted.
Before responding, I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, hoping for a drop of divine patience.
– Victor, I've not been on this earth for just five years – I said in a tone meant for explaining to a stubborn child that two plus two equals four. – Those kinds of toys aren't cheap. And I know very well that there are much more affordable options. Ones that I, a student, can actually afford – I emphasized.
This argument clearly didn't reach Victor, just like every other time I used it in discussions about the money he spent on me.
– My girlfriend can drive the best cars – he simply stated, as if the fact that I sleep with him settled the matter.
The little voice inside me turned red with the rage that had been brewing since the start of this conversation. It was like talking to a brick wall!
– She can't because you want to pay someone to drive her around! – I snapped angrily, genuinely infuriated by his inability to grasp the absurdity of this gift and his attempt to control me. – And I absolutely refuse. I have a driver's license and my own budget, and if I want, I'll buy a car I can actually afford and drive it myself. Is that so hard to understand? You drive yourself everywhere, even though you can afford a chauffeur.
– That's different – Victor objected. – I'm a man, and you...
– A helpless, poor little woman who needs to be watched over every step of the way because she can't handle the world on her own? – I cut him off with a voice dripping with sarcasm, glaring at him defiantly.
That line of thinking annoyed me more than anything, and he knew it.
– That's not what I meant – he said, bravely holding my gaze.
I looked down at him with the demeanor of an offended princess.
– And what did you mean? – I asked in a theatrically gracious tone.
– That you're more... – he waved his hands in the air, seemingly trying to buy more time to find the right word – fragile – he finally finished.
– Because I'm a woman? – I retorted immediately. – You know women are made from the same stuff as men, right? We're not made of porcelain.
Victor closed his eyes for a moment as if he were praying, and when he opened them again, his eyes were blazing with anger.
– God, Paula, why are we even having this discussion?! – he shouted, exasperated. – Can't you just be like other women? Other girls dream of getting what I want to give you. Why do you make it so difficult?
– Then find one who wants it and give her that gift – I retorted dryly. – I don't need it, which I've made quite clear several times. Now I'm leaving because you're encroaching on my personal space so much that I'm starting to suffocate. Don't follow me.
I threw on the jacket I had just taken off and marched out of the apartment without looking back. I needed peace and a place where anything depended on me.
I hopped on my motorcycle and rode to where I felt free, the Mirabeli club. To make sure Victor wouldn't find me, I rode through a few random streets before parking near the pink flamingo. I immediately headed to the bar on the ground floor.
– What can I get you? – asked the bartender, who must have been new because I had never seen him before.
– Make me some lemon balm tea – I replied in a tired voice.
The bartender raised his eyebrows slightly.
– Seriously? – he asked in a tone as if I had told a particularly funny joke.
– Don't have any? – I asked.
– For you, we'll find some lemon balm – interjected the bartender I knew by sight, though I couldn't for the life of me remember his name.
Anyway, his name wasn't important. The point was he knew me, and it wasn't strange to him that in the evening when most people ordered colorful cocktails, I went for herbal tea.
– Here you go – he said, placing a steaming cup in front of me. – The only lemon balm tea this year, just for you. Are you sure you don't want anything stronger?
I shook my head.
– I'm driving – I muttered by way of explanation.
– Well, enjoy your tea and your evening in the company of some nice guy – he summarized cheerfully, giving me a knowing wink, clearly unaware of the changes in my life over the past few months. But that wasn't something to hold against him since they hadn't seen me at the club once since then.
– I'll enjoy my solitude – I muttered and carefully pressed my lips to the cool edge of the cup.
– Whatever you say – he replied cheerfully.
He flashed me a roguish smile and went back to his duties, while I, shielded by a wave of blonde curls from the rest of the world, began to lazily sip the tea from the porcelain cup.
– Hello, gorgeous – a male voice addressed me from my right. – I was hoping I'd see you here again.
I looked in his direction and met the piercing blue eyes of a curly-haired blond guy. Eyes that seemed familiar.
YOU ARE READING
Butterfly's Year
Romance" - We are in a church, - I remarked sensibly. - Absolutely, - he agreed with a pleasant purr that vibrated between my legs. - Your parents are standing right there, - I whispered, discreetly pointing to his mom and dad standing in front of the alta...
