Her hands trembled as fear pricked at her. And she waited, refusing to back down, even when Beckham made no move toward her.
Beckham cocked his head to the side, simply watching her. “I’m not hungry and you should…” He looked her up and down. “Freshen up.”
And with that he walked down the hall, into a room, and slammed the door.
She righted herself slowly. Her breathing was uneven, and she couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had rejected her. Completely and utterly rejected her.
Somehow that damn man made her feel even more insulted in his absence.
Chapter 5
Reyna jolted out of sleep and bolted upright in bed. She slapped her hand to her heaving chest. Her heart rate was through the roof, and for a moment she couldn’t remember where she was or why she was there. She breathed out twice heavily as she took in her surroundings.
Visage.
Beckham.
Penthouse.
Large fluffy white bed, white plush carpet, long hanging curtains in the softest green. She had an empty walk-in closet that she was sure she would never have occasion to fill, and her own bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub and a large waterfall shower.
She had spent more than a half hour last night under the showerhead, scrubbing every inch of her body in the boiling water. She hadn’t even realized how dirty she was. It was as if she had entirely new skin. And her dark hair, which had always been dull and flat, had fallen in soft, shiny tresses down her back due to the expensive shampoo and conditioner treatment.
But now she had to get back to reality. It was her first real day on the job. She was sure that Beckham was going to want to feed. She needed to prepare herself for when that time came…which meant breakfast. A big hearty breakfast to keep her from feeling light-headed due to the blood loss.
She shuddered. Blood loss.
Reyna hopped out of bed and looked around for the clothes she had left at the foot of her bed. She had gone to bed in an oversized white T-shirt she had found in one of her drawers. It had been a better alternative to getting back in her dirty clothes last night.
But now that she was ready to face the day, she needed her old clothes. And they were nowhere to be found.
She walked into the closet, and her mouth dropped wide open. A quarter of the space was already stocked full of clothes. Dresses upon gorgeous dresses in every color imaginable. Hanging skirts, sheer tops, slick slacks that would surely hug her figure. So many clothes. More than she could have ever dreamed of back at home. She ran her fingers over the expensive materials—satin, lace, silk—and then quickly pulled herself back. What are they doing here?
She checked the tags and saw they were all brand new and in her size. But how does anyone know my size?
Though the clothes were beautiful, they didn’t feel like her clothes. They felt like playing dress-up with a doll. As if someone had picked out clothes haphazardly with no care for the person in mind.
She turned away from the display of clothing and looked through the rest of the room. Drawers were full of undergarments so small and lacy she wasn’t sure they would cover an inch of her body. She closed them hastily.
Her closet had been empty last night. She didn’t understand how anything had gotten inside without her knowing. She didn’t like that anyone had access to her room, even though she hadn’t had one to herself in ten years. She shook her head and turned to leave when she noticed that something was in the trash can. She peered inside and found her old clothes piled there neatly.
“What the…?”
She yanked her old clothes out of the trash.
“I can’t believe someone would throw away my clothes without my permission,” she grumbled angrily.
Reyna yanked her ratty T-shirt back onto her clean body and shimmied into her well-worn jeans. She wasn’t going to wear all that prim and proper clothing. If Beckham had ordered this, then he needed to think again. She wasn’t some doll he could dress up. She would wear whatever she wanted.
Once she had her clothes back on, she rushed out into the living room, only to find it empty. She muttered furiously under her breath and went into the kitchen to make breakfast. She was gathering ingredients for an omelet when Beckham strode out of the back hallway. He looked as imposing as ever, in a black three-piece suit and a dark purple patterned tie.
He was checking his cellphone as always and didn’t look up until he heard the first crack of an egg. His eyes found her. Her returning look was steely. He seemed to appraise her, and she quickly looked away. Even though she was angry, it was hard to keep eye contact with him. Half of the time he looked like he wanted to have her for breakfast, and the other half he looked like he wanted to break her neck and throw her out the window.
“Why in the world are you still in those hideous clothes?” he demanded tersely.
“Why in the world did you try to throw out my clothes?”
“They’re disgusting.”
“Well, the other clothes didn’t feel like me,” she snapped, cracking another egg and whisking the contents vigorously.
“They are all brand new.”
She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. She didn’t even look up at him.
“And very expensive.”
Reyna sighed and made eye contact. “They look like they’re made for a baby doll.” She made a disgusted face. “I don’t know anyone who would wear clothes like that to sit around the house.”
Beckham glared at her. “You don’t know anyone. Of course you wouldn’t know anyone who would wear that clothing.”
She cringed.
“Well, I just…want something that’s more me,” she said, holding her ground.
“What you are wearing right now is no longer you.” His voice was dangerously low. “Trash it.”
“Excuse me?”
Now her eyes were threatening. He couldn’t just order her around like this.
“I said trash it.”
“I work for you but that doesn’t mean you can dictate everything in my life!” she shouted back.
Beckham tilted his head down and stared at her as if she were a three-year-old throwing a tantrum. He slowly walked toward her. “I said trash your clothes. Now. Purchase new clothes if you don’t like the ones ordered for you, but I can’t be seen with anyone dressed the way you are right now. You already made a spectacle of yourself last night in the lobby. Would you like to continue to embarrass yourself?”
His words brokered no argument, and Reyna wordlessly shook her head. With him standing so near her, she was trembling from head to toe.
“Good. Then go change.”
Reyna dropped the whisk in the bowl, maneuvered around him, and then disappeared back into her room. She couldn’t believe she was letting him order her around and dress her as if she were a child, but how could she say no?
She located the least extravagant outfit she could find—a white chiffon button-up blouse tucked into a rose gold sequined skirt—and tried not to feel ridiculous walking around in the ensemble.
Beckham’s nod of approval did nothing to make her feel less awkward. Though it did make her feel a slightest glimmer of relief that she had done something to garner that approval…even if she had just fought him on it.
“Here,” he said. He slid a black card across the counter to her.
“What is it?”
“The company has set up an account for you with access to your payments. It’s all in your savings. You can charge anything else to this card. It doubles as a key pass for the penthouse. Your first payment has already been deposited.”
She took the key in her hand and stared at it in awe. She was holding a small fortune in her hand. It was so surreal.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t lose it. Those are not easy to get ahold of.”
She nodded and then went back to her breakfast. She finished her omelet and sat down to eat it, shifting her skirt so that her ass wouldn’t hang out. When she sat down next to Beckham, he looked up from his phone. He seemed surprised she was still there. He appeared to be so used to being alone that having another person in his house was throwing him off.
“Yes, well then…” he said as a way of farewell and then started for the door.
“Where are you going?” she called.