Chapter 13: The Dock

"Not tonight, Mom," I said.

The phone sat between us on the console, and the windows of Mitch's car were still fogged.

"Willa, don't be dramatic," my mother said. "It's one conversation, in my kitchen, like adults."

"Rip it up now. Take a picture and send it to me."

There was a pause on the line.

"I'd like to do it in front of you, where I can see your face."

"That's the part I'm not coming home for."

"Callow freezes our orders at midnight tomorrow," she said. "Seventy people will be sitting at home by Friday."

Her voice stayed soft.

"That will be on you."

"Seventy people work for a woman who sent her best employee a bill," I said. "Goodnight, Mom."

I ended the call.

Mitch was watching me with his hand still on the wheel.

"Where are you staying?" I asked.

"A hotel on Broad. Twelve minutes."

"Drive."

He had a corner room on the fourteenth floor, with the curtains open on the lit river.

I did not look at the view.

The door shut behind us, and I took his coat off his shoulders and let it drop.

"Terms," Mitch said, against my mouth. "You told me you don't do anything you haven't signed."

"I haven't signed a thing. I'm doing it anyway."

He pulled my sweater up over my head.

The cold air of the room hit my stomach, and then his mouth was on my breast through the lace.

I got my hands into his hair.

He walked me back until my knees hit the bed, and I went down and pulled him with me.

"Say what you want," he said.

"Your mouth. Between my legs. I've wanted it since the stockroom."

He took his time, as I had asked him to.

He kissed down my stomach and unbuttoned my jeans and dragged them off.

He put his mouth on the inside of my thigh and stayed there until I swore at him.