Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
And that comfort will come at the expense of yours, won’t it? the brat in my brain said.
“Here I am,” I said lamely.
“Here she is,” said Mrs. Purdy. “And I’m afraid to say that Amanda has unfortunately shown a lack of manners in the last few moments.”
I couldn’t see him, and I couldn’t figure out whether I wanted to or, on the contrary, I felt grateful not to have to watch the expression on his face change. When he spoke from behind and above me, his voice sounded grave. Suddenly I desperately didn’t want to see his face because I needed to know whether he meant the serious tone or maybe—if I were lucky—he had actually decided to pretend to go along with Mrs. Purdy’s horrid ideas, or even to make fun of her. To spare me any sort of scene, anyway… or at least just spare me more of a scene than Mrs. Purdy had already created.
“Well,” Rick said, “we’ll have to discuss that, won’t we?”
I managed to raise my eyes and look at Mrs. Purdy then. She had fixed her own attention on Rick, and she wore a simpering smile that said as forcefully as any words could that in Rocky Falls the husband always knew best.
And he does, doesn’t he? whispered the observer inside me.
No, he definitely does not, answered the brat.
“That sounds like the best thing, Mr. Williams,” said Mrs. Purdy sweetly. “A thorough discussion and any consequences you judge appropriate for Amanda’s lapse in manners. Manners are important here in Rocky Falls, you know.”
The older woman lowered her eyes for a moment to gaze into mine. her smile became just a little sweeter and thus even less sincere. I read in her face her utter confidence that Selecta had figured me out completely—that the New Modesty knew what was best for me. Butterflies filled my tummy. Could I truly say that she had it wrong? That Selecta hadn’t learned about all my most shameful desires long before I had?
Mrs. Purdy turned her attention back to my husband, literally going over my head with her gaze.
“Remember that you can find helpful suggestions for consequences on the New Modesty app,” she said, her voice dripping honey.
“Thanks,” Rick replied, and I heard in his voice a coldness that sent a thrill of joy leaping in my heart. “I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”
CHAPTER 30
Mandy
On our way home—despite everything I couldn’t help thinking of our beautiful loaner house that way—in the backseat of Scott’s BMW, I clung to that little bit of joy. I tried to persuade myself that when Rick had said he could handle it, he had actually meant that he intended to impose no consequences at all for my so-called lack of manners.
So-called? asked the voice inside me. You were rude to Mrs. Purdy. She absolutely deserved it, but that doesn’t mean you should get away with it.
As I listened to Rick and Scott talk about golf, and GreenMe, and the two restaurants in Rocky Falls town center, I attempted to summon the rational, mature, independent young woman I knew I really was. The brat surfaced instead. Every time I tried to rehearse what I wanted to say to Rick when the door had closed behind us, all the arguments I meant to muster to persuade him to let go of this craziness, my mind’s eye filled instead with scenes of childish defiance.
If he thinks he’s going to punish me again, he has another think coming. He’s not the boss of me. He’s so full of himself. He thinks he can pretend to be this alpha-dog dominant older husband… my fucking lord and master… but it’s just a fucking act.
The obviousness of my husband’s love for me… the certainty I had, deep down, that Rick actually was that alpha… my true happiness to have married an older man who could guide me and care for me… as the car came to a stop in front of the gorgeous house, I pushed them all away despite how very clearly the rational part of me could see it—could see that I needed the lessons my husband meant to teach me, as painful and embarrassing as they might prove.
Rick got out of the passenger side and opened the car door for me before I could do it myself. Whether that came from chivalry or from some paternal impulse, I didn’t know. My inner brat found both possibilities completely unwelcome. As I got out of the car I looked up at him, narrowing my eyes and doing my best to shoot a preemptive warning into his steady gaze: You’d better not be thinking about going through with any of this dominance shit.
My husband’s mouth quirked up into a slight smile, the complete opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. His own warning to me seemed much milder, but that very mildness sent a shiver of fear up my spine and set the crawling bugs—hardly butterflies, now—going inside my tummy.