Entrapment (Morelli Family 7.5)

If I can get her alone, I can talk her through it. Make something up—say he mentioned something to Adrian who in turn told me. It’s much easier to use sex to control Mia, but I can figure something out.

Hopefully it’s a fluke. I’ll check back in tomorrow.

As far as tonight, Mia hears Vince on his way back in so she feigns contentment. He hits the lights and climbs into bed. I can’t see them anymore, but I can still hear the rustling of the bedclothes as he settles in behind her. I can’t see them, but I can imagine he’s holding her. I can imagine she’s resting her hand over his, that he craves her the way I do and he can’t keep from dropping several kisses along her shoulder, trailing up her neck.

Caught somewhere between imagination and memory, I conjure the sweet sounds she would make. Feel the precisely perfect weight of her breast in my hand as I massage the full globe. I can feel her heart kick up a couple speeds beneath my ministrations. Hear her shakily indrawn breaths as my hand snakes down her torso, runs down her abdomen, dips between her legs. Her gasp of surprise as her body arches back against mine, as I tease her clit and give her the hit of pleasure he didn’t. There’s no brushing me off. There will be no more “thanks, but no thanks” if it’s my bed she’s in.

There’s no one fucking delusional enough to buy “I’m tired” as an excuse, and to quietly curl up without resolving the matter and then falling asleep satisfied.

God, he is wrong for her.

But he’s her choice. It’s a terrible choice, but it’s hers to make. I might regret it sometimes, but I gave her that.

I can’t even claim to be a better one—I’m just a far more fitting kind of terrible for her.

Maybe he didn’t make her come, but he won’t break her mind, either.

There’s nothing more for me to do here tonight, so I remove the headphones, placing them on the desk. I switch the surveillance off Mia and Vince’s house and bring up the regular cameras. A bone deep wariness comes over me, heavy and inescapable.

I don’t know if it’s loneliness or boredom that compels me to bring up the servants’ quarters, to drag over the surveillance of the new maid’s bedroom. She’s not there, anyway, so I check the communal rooms and find her in the kitchen, making herself a sandwich. I guess I did call her away from her night off without warning, so she probably didn’t get a chance to feed herself first. I’ll do it again next week, too. I need her around when Mia and Vince are here; it’s the only way to test my theory.

I wish I felt even half the interest I feel looking at Mia when I look at her. She’s attractive and generally amusing. I’m sure I could have some fun with her. She’s also right here under my roof, ready and willing. I could pop in there now and tell her to go to my room and she would. I could curl up with my own warm body and try to draw Mia’s noises out of a new person.

Every person is different, though. This isn’t Mia. From behind I might be able to convince myself she is, but then she’ll fail to react the way Mia would, her sighs will be different, her body won’t feel the same. I’d leave the whole situation dissatisfied, and then I’d have the inevitable complications to deal with after the fact.

I did that after Beth. A string of meaningless women, each one more disappointing than the last. Granted, I was comparing them to when things were good with Beth, not the unpleasantness at the end. By that point, a pillow would have been a better partner.

Just remembering how dissatisfying all that was turns me right back off the idea. Rebounding may be physically rewarding, but it’s only emotionally cleansing if you’ve let the last person go, and I haven’t.

I need to compile some more information before I go there with the maid, monitor Mia’s house, make sure she gets out of her funk—fix it myself if she doesn’t. Assuming she does, I need to wait until they come over next week (and pay attention if Vince has to come to the mansion even without Mia) to see if he’s still reassured by my perceived interest in the maid. If he is, and Mia gets back into a healthy groove, perhaps it’s worth exploring. Just getting Mia alone for two minutes in the hallway was a whole production, and one that led to that fight once they returned home. If Vince thinks I’m preoccupied with my maid, however, he’ll be less vigilant. So will Mia—she may even think she can try to be my friend again.