"Never." I'm very annoyed at him and yet...I want to crawl into his lap and pout and incite him further. My urges seem to conflict with the situation. Shouldn't I want to slap him, instead of crawling closer and getting right in his face? Because that's where I am. Leaned forward, matching his pose, until our faces are very close together. "Tell me what I'm built for."
"No," he booms.
Though his raised voice makes my insides tremble a little, I stand my ground. Somehow I know he wouldn't lay a finger on me out of anger. But how do I know that? "Then I'll just go get a job at a different casino and find out."
That's a bluff. None of the other casinos answered my résumé submission—which I spent all day yesterday sending out from a Staples off the Strip. I don't lie often, but again, there
