Of course she is.
She walks into the room, her gaze sweeping over the space like she owns it, like she’s been here a thousand times before and wants to make sure nothing’s out of place.
“How are you handling it?” she asks, her tone light. “Working here, I mean. It must be quite the adjustment.”
“It’s fine,” I say carefully. I get a weird vibe from this woman, like she’s someone I need to be guarded around.
“Fine,” she echoes, then steps over to the mantel and picks up the scarab case, examining it. I can tell she’s seen it before. “Gabriel’s always had eclectic taste—ancient relics, rare books, and now…” Her eyes slide back to me. “You.”
Heat creeps up my neck, tension snaking its way into the room.
“I’m just staff,” I tell her.
“Right. Staff.” She sets the case down, then turns to face me fully. There’s something about her that’s off-putting. “Let me give you some advice, Thea, woman to woman.”
I don’t want her advice, and I almost tell her that, catching myself at the last moment.
“Gabriel Moretti is not a man you want to get close to,” she says. “He’s dangerous. Complicated. And he doesn’t—” She pauses and looks away, choosing her words carefully. “He doesn’t do well with distractions.”
“I’m not trying to distract anyone. I’m just here to work.”
“Good. Very good. Exactly the right attitude. Because, trust me, if you think that what’s happening here is anything else, you’ve got another thing coming.” Her smile sharpens. “Men like Gabriel aren’t interested in women like you. They don’t bringthem home to play house. They use them. And when they’re done…” she trails off, the implication clear.
Does she know?
My throat tightens. I can tell she’s trying to bully me, to intimidate me, to make sure I know my place.
“I know what I am,” I say quietly.
“Do you?” Amanda tilts her head, her gaze traveling down my body with the precision of a scalpel. “Because from where I’m standing, you look like a girl who’s already getting ideas. You look like a girl who thinks that because Gabriel threw down a little cash, he actually wantsher.”
The words land like a slap.
“He doesn’t,” Amanda continues, her voice soft, almost kind. “He wants you like he wants those.” She gestures toward the artifacts on the mantel, all of them presented beautifully and secured behind glass cases. “He wants a little novelty, something that he hasn’t had before. And when he’s bored, he’ll stick you behind glass and barely notice you.”
“You don’t know me,” I say, my tone sharpening. “You have no idea who I am, or what I want.”
“You want Gabriel’s attention,” she says. “It’s obvious. But here’s something else that’s obvious—you need a little reality check, my dear. Gabriel is handsome, powerful, wealthy beyond compare. Do you really think he’d be interested in someone like you?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Her eyes drag up and down my figure again, making it clear what she means.
“Let’s just say that if he does intend on putting you behind glass when he’s done with you, he’ll need to place a special order. Not sure if display cases come in your size.”
That does it.
I want to say something cutting, something that will wipe that smug expression off her face. But all I can think of is how Liza sighed whenever I reached for seconds, how Sissy looked at my body with something that always resembled pity, all of the times I caught my reflection in the mirror and wished I could disappear.
“Listen,” I start, anger bracing my voice. “I don’t know wh?—”
“That’s enough.”
I pause, my finger raised in the air, pointing at Amanda. We both turn to see Gabriel standing in the doorway. I close my mouth, letting my arm fall to my side.
I have no idea how long he’s been standing there. Judging by the hard expression on his face, I guess long enough.
“Gabe,” Amanda says smoothly. “I was just?—”