My second favorite feature was my legs. I had good legs.
Not that you could see them in the clothes of this world, but still.
I didn’t look anything like the lush beauty who came to call for Apollo.
In other words, he didn’t f**k anyone who might remind him of his Ilsa.
I got that. I so did.
But…a prostitute?
Evidence was suggesting the Apollo of this world wasn’t all that hot either.
In fact, evidence was suggesting Apollo of this world was a self-indulgent jerk.
And I knew all about that.
Boy did I.
So I stared at myself, coming out of my pity party and beginning to think this was good.
This place was amazing, the clothes were great, the food was fabulous, the people seemed friendly. Sure, there wasn’t electricity or cars or movie theaters, but if I got my head out of my ass, I might find it was fun to explore a world like this.
Further, I was safe from Pol. He’d never get to me here.
And Apollo wanted nothing to do with me.
Eleven years ago, at twenty-two years old, working in an exclusive department store, I’d met Pol and made mistake after mistake after mistake that destroyed my life. I’d been seduced by his good looks, the wads of cash always in his pockets, his easy smile and his taking me on the town in his Corvette (which he traded up to a Porsche, then up to a Maserati and finally an Aston Martin—things were always good in the drug trade).
I’d wanted that life and I’d got it (minus the drug trade part, of course). I thought, it coming with all the outward lusciousness that was Pol, I’d have everything I ever wanted. A handsome, wealthy, powerful man and the life he could give me.
And I got nothing.
But now I had a second chance. A second chance to make a life all my own. It came in a bizarre way that I would never in my wildest dreams imagine would be real.
But I had it.
“So I’m going to take it,” I vowed to my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes stared back and me and they were determined.
And hopeful.
I liked that look on me. I hadn’t seen it in so long, I wasn’t certain I’d ever seen it.
But now I was seeing it.
So I was going to go for it.
Chapter Five
Making Me Feel Free
I’d lost control of the horse under me. He was pounding through the wildflowers behind the house, his movements jarring my ribs and that hurt.
But I wasn’t focusing on that. I figured he knew what he was doing. He was just taking me along for the ride.
No, I was focusing on the wind in my hair, the sun shining on my skin and the beauty all around me.