AllFreeNovel
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He’d been talking for a few minutes as streets whipped by the tinted windows.
She tried to listen.
She really did.
“I’m glad you decided to join me.”
“I had to stop you from sending stuff.” She meant it lightly, as a joke, but he frowned and briskly moved on.
“I should tell you about myself.”
He sat comfortably in a blue suit that looked a bit too baggy, one leg crossed over his knee. He had a tendency to tug on his foot, as if he were steering a boat and the polished loafer was the rudder. He said her name after every pause, and sought her face for repeated, harassing eye contact. If he asked a question, he repeated her answer and praised its value.
It was like talking to a self-help book.
“I own several companies, most of which are branches of my company. Outside of the hedge funds, there’s also a string of cobalt mines, a fast-food franchise that you’ve probably eaten at, Gertrude.”
“Like, a burger place?”
“Chicken, actually. I was the youngest CEO of Younger Food Corporation, do you know what that is?”
“Sounds like one of those companies that have a football stadium named after them.”
“That’s right Gertrude! We have one outside of Atlanta."
The pedantic way he said it made her cringe, her entire form crinkling on itself. As she moved, the skirt rode up her thighs and he sneaked a glance. She caught it, and realized, with a measure of triumph, that it was working.
It probably didn’t matter what she said.
He went on, listing things he owned. It was an endless list, stacks of businesses, umbrella corporations, real estate developments. A government contract and a telecommunications company. Every time he listed off another shadowy million-dollar enterprise, Gertrude pictured his penis growing a centimeter. Growing longer, longer, drooping over with its own weight like an elephant’s trunk, unfurling from its foreskin as it slid down his leg, a Pinocchio-nose of dick, growing with each billionaire boast.
They hit traffic, snarled outside of Boston.
She’d been in the car with Barret for forty-five minutes and hadn’t been asked a single question about herself.
He droned on. In desperation, she shot a text to the DNF group chat.
“He’s just talking about himself, what do I do???”
“Compliment his ego.”—Nora
“Ooh and ahh at everything he says. Pretend every word is turning a sprinkler on in your crotch” —Ariana
“Sit on his face that should shut him up”—Rebecca
“If you don’t like him at all you don’t have to do this” —Olivia
No, no she wasn’t giving up that easily. She could do this; she just had to act like not-Gertrude. Close off the sullen, sarcastic woman she tended to be at any given time and be someone lighter. More fuckable. She pictured sitting on his lap and letting her tongue ooze out of her mouth like a black serpent, snaking around his throat before diving into his ear, licking the inside of his skull and wrapping tightly around the little grey slime he called a brain.
She would control him.
She would own him.
At least long enough to save the store.
