"You absolutely are not going to work." Vincent readjust the covers, tucking them underneath the mattress as if he can cocoon me into his bed so I won't leave.I cough and sniffle, reaching for Kleenex. "Vincent, it's just allergies. I always get sick with the season changes. Twice a year I can't go outside for three days without getting a massive headache, runny nose, and a horrible cough. It always goes away and I'm absolutely fine."He reaches across the bed, feeling my forehead. "Are you sure you don't need a doctor?""I'm not going to a doctor for this. They won't do anything for me." I wasted money in the past and the only thing doctor did was prescribe an allergy med you need to take every day for the entire year. What's the point of that when I was sick a whole six days total in a year?"Fine, but you're definitely not working."Exactly at what point in my life did I go from arguing with my parents about not wanting to go to school to arguing with Vincent about work?

Days later, with my hair wrapped tightly in one of Vincent's soft bathroom towels, I step up to the bathroom mirror. Without thinking about it, because I've done it this way every day since high school, I reach to the right to grab my favorite lipstick from the counter. I can't always be trusted to put on a full face of makeup to go work in the marketing department, but my mother taught me from a young age to never leave the house without lipstick.Some lessons die hard.With my lips the perfect shade of deep red, which makes them look plumper, I recap the lipstick and set it to the side as if I'm in my apartment. But it's a weird because this is Vincent's penthouse. He's letting me take over his space, but it doesn't seem right. It's not mine. Even if I've messed up his bathroom in record time.A quick look to my left shows my blow dryer plugged in, the cord hanging haphazardly over the edge of the counter in my normal habit.I spin in a circle, letting my gaze hit the differe

I decided six orgasms were enough payment for the moving in together and first party thing, but as Vincent's sleek limo pulls up to the large Detroit mansion, I realize I should've held out for more. Lots more.The man beside me smirks at my scowl as if he knows what I'm thinking and doesn't care because he's gotten his way. Again. Only when my gaze falls to his neck and I get lost in the way his tux contrasts against his skin, making me want to lick his neck and bathe myself in his cologne, do I remember how good the orgasms were. The man has a way with his mouth… and tongue.The mansion is constructed from dark red brick with white trim around the windows and a wide staircase leading to the front door. Trees on each side have been manicured and fluffed. The grass remains a vibrant green even in Michigan's fall season, and pumpkins of various sizes and colors line the walkway while corn stalks wrap around the two light posts on each side of the steps."Are you sure about this?"

With my mother not expecting me home until after six because of the hour-long trip from Lansing, I drive right to the doctor's office and park my car in the lot, making it there on time for the last appointment of the day. I begged for the 4:45 slot. Since I've been going to the same family doctor my entire life, they worked me in on short notice. Sometimes smaller towns were splendid for things. As long as the news of why I'm here doesn't seep out into the lobby, everything will be fine. I even made Vincent promise no more secret bodyguards.The doctor's office waiting room smells like someone just finished emptying a can of Lysol into the air. A mother and small child sit in one of the dark green padded chairs in the corner. The little girl rests her head on her mother's shoulder, her eyes slowly closing before they snap open again.An older man sits in the opposite corner, watching a show on one television hanging from the walls. My own spot puts me at an angle where I can see t

Later, after the sky has grown dark and night has descended on the city, I park my car in my reserved space and take a deep breath. The overnight bag I packed because I planned to spend the weekend with my parents sits heavily in the passenger seat and I scoop it up before getting out of my car.Nerves tickle my stomach as I use the key card to access the elevator and select the penthouse. I texted Vincent when I got in the car in my parents' drive way, but for the entire hour drive back I haven't heard a reply. The elevator that never seems to travel a consistent pace inches up to the penthouse frustratingly slowly.I step off into the little hallway in front of Vincent's penthouse and take a few more deep breaths. I was determined in the car ride on the way here, but the closer I got to the city my nerves took over. Regardless of how I feel about the matter and my worry about how Vincent will respond, the time has come to tell him the truth. There's no wimping out now. No matter