Her Perfect Revenge (12 page)

She ignored his question. "Tell me who this bitch is," she growled, raising her voice loud enough so that the other patrons began to crane to see what was going on. Even the waiters stopped their serving duties to watch.

And Christina was loving every moment!

Bill sensed that they'd become the center of attention.

"Stephie, calm down. This isn't the place for this," he patiently intoned, trying to diffuse the awkward situation.

Stephie eye's swiveled to Christina's left hand where the huge diamond ring was glistening under the candlelight.

"Where'd you get that?" she snarled at Christina.

"Bill gave it to me. We're engaged." Christina coolly responded.

Bill briefly closed his eyes as he prepared for the storm to come.

Stephie's demon eyes swiveled back to Bill's face. It was one thing to suspect what that 'ring' was but to have it confirmed by this little nobody was something else.

She'd sat at her own table all night watching the pair of them until her nerves had reached their stretching point and against her cousin's advice—the person she'd been having dinner with—she had jumped up and marched towards their table.

Bill put his hand on her arm and tried to steer her away from the table. "Stephie, stop this. We'll talk tomorrow."

She threw his hand off as rage boiled up within her. "So you've been fucking her and me at the same time?" she snarled at him at full volume.

Bill remained silent but his face was turning beet red.

Christina giggled to herself. Oh, what fun this was! How embarrassing for him, being confronted by his jealous girlfriend and in his favorite restaurant! Maybe they'd throw him out and ask him never to come back? Oh, she could only hope. She secretly giggled some more.

"Stephie, please…" he began again but the redhead interrupted him.

"Mummy was right about you. You really are a prick!"

And with that pronouncement she hauled back and gave him a hard slap across his face. Whack! Some of the patrons gasped. Bill just stood there and took it.

That must have hurt, Christina thought as she smirked to herself. His left cheek was even now turning more red than it had been a few seconds before.

"Feel better?" Bill calmly asked Stephie.

With a look of pure hatred, Stephie turned and marched away—out the door.

Bill looked around the room. Everyone was staring at him. And it would probably make the gossip rounds by tonight. He'd made a big mistake in conducting his private business with Christina here at Carbiri's, where he was known and where his 'crowd' hung out.

He sighed as he held out his hand to Christina, "I think we should go."

"What? No dessert?" Christina cracked.

'"I think we were the dessert," Bill mumbled, as he stared at all the interested faces.

* * *

He had insisted on driving her home.

Christina studied him as she sat beside him in the small confines of the Jaguar. He'd been silent since they'd left the restaurant.

"You should put some ice on that when you get home," she threw at him.

He gave her a quick glance as he drove. "Look, Christina, I'm sorry you had to be a part of that."

"I'm not. I enjoyed it."

"You what?" Bill was shocked.

Christina giggled. "I've only ever seen that happen in the movies. It was fun to see it happen in real life."

Bill laughed and gave her a quick look of admiration before turning back to his driving. "You really are a cool customer, Christina Matteo."

Christina shrugged her shoulders. "I'm only here for a month, remember? It's really none of my business what you or your girlfriend do."

"So you're telling me, I can see all the women I want this month while we're engaged?" He was curious to see how she would respond.

"You can have a harem for all I care, Bill Havenwood."

"Really?" He smiled. He'd never had anyone 'not' be interested in him before. This was certainly different.

"Sure," she continued. "Just like I can have a harem too."

"What?" His smile dropped and Bill experienced the first pangs of jealousy. He'd never been jealous before and he didn't really know what this feeling was.

"You can't really expect me to stop having my own… relationships this month, can you?" Christina innocently asked.

"Yes I can. I'm paying you fifty-six grand to 'stop having relationships'," he angrily threw back at her.

"Funny? I didn't see that in your contract tonight."

"It's implied." He gritted between his teeth.

They reached the outside of her building and he pulled up to the curb.

"Don't worry. I'm discreet. Unlike you," Christina parried back.

Bill gave her a long, hard look. "I'm sorry about Stephie. We'd been seeing each other off and on for the past two years but it's been over for awhile."

"So don't tell me, tell her," Christina quipped, as she opened the car door.

Bill reached for her arm and stopped her. "Is there… someone?" He had to know. For some reason, he just had to know.

A few seconds ticked by as Christina studied him. "Thank you for the…entertaining… evening Mr. Havenwood," she slyly smiled at him and got out of the car.

He was so much fun to tease and it was best if she kept him slightly off balance where she and her affairs were concerned.

Bill watched her as she entered her building. He'd never met anyone like her before. Cool, calm, collected and smart enough to handle his wicked father. Yes, this was definitely an intriguing woman and he had one month to get to know her better!

It was 7 p.m. and Christina was sitting at the Havenwood's massive dining table with William seated at the head of it to her left.

And she was in the hot seat. William was asking her questions—lots and lots of questions.

And where was her big jackass of fiancé? Who knew!

Christina had no idea where he was or if he was even coming home tonight. She hadn't heard anything from him since he'd dropped her off last night.

Summers, the Havenwood chauffeur, had promptly shown up at her building today at 3 p.m. and had driven her and her suitcases to the mansion. One of the maids—and there seemed to be an army of them—had shown her to her sumptuous bedroom next door to Bill's and had even helped her unpack. Her name was Tilly and she'd told Christina to ask for her personally if she needed anything.

There'd been a large bouquet of roses on a side table near the floor to ceiling windows in her bedroom and a card with her name on it propped up against the vase. She'd torn it open and read, 'Welcome home'. It had been signed by William.

She then looked around the enormous room and spotted a goldfish bowl on her bedside table. A small goldfish was swimming inside and there was a little tag propped up against the glass. All it said was "Samson".

Christina approached the little fish and bent down to stare at him.

"I guess we're going to be bunkmates, Samson," she said to the fish.

Nice touch, Christina thought. Ever the sophisticate, William had thought of everything. But from Bill there was nothing. Not a card, not a letter, not a phone call. And he hadn't shown up for dinner either.

He'd told her last night that he was going to be busy today. Christina had thought he meant he wasn't going to be there for her arrival. But surely he'd show up for dinner on their first night living together as future husband and wife, wouldn't he?

But he hadn't.

And when 7 p.m. came and went, and it was time to sit down to dinner with William, Bill was nowhere to be found.

And William was now grilling her!

"So Christina, you don't know where my son is?"

That was the fifth time he'd asked her that all ready.

"Sorry William, it's been a hectic day with me moving in here and everything. I must have missed his call." Christina lowered her eyes to her soup. Where the hell was that bastard and why had he left her to deal with his father on her own? She was getting angrier by the minute.

"But how can you miss his call? You're a photojournalist on assignment. Surely you have voicemail?" William declared.

"I do, but I forgot to check my messages today. Bill's probably working late."

"I left the offices at 6:15 and he never showed up for work today."

"Well… I'm sure he'll be here soon."

William grunted as if he didn't believe her. "So tell me, Christina, when do you and my son want to get married?"

"Like we told you last time, probably in about a year." Oh, where was that idiot! How dare he leave her to fend for herself with his overbearing father!

William grunted again and began to dig into his steak. "And how do your parents feel about Bill? You've introduced him to them, I take it?"

"Well… not yet."

"What? Why not?"

"They're retired and live in Florida. Everything's happened so fast that we haven't had a chance to see them yet," she smiled apologetically.

Outwardly, Christina was acting calm and pleasant but inside her emotions were a seething cauldron about to boil over.
Oooohhh—where was he, goddamn it????

"So you don't know where my irresponsible son is tonight?" William repeated.

Again with that same question…

And on and on it went all night long—questions thrown left and right at Christina as if she was being cross-examined on the witness stand.

'Where would you like to get married? How many children do you want? How many guests would you like to invite? Are you going to continue with your career once you're married? What are your parents' names? What does your father do? So you really don't know where my son is tonight? What do you think about….'

And on—and on—and on.

When William finally excused himself after the coffee, Christina let slip an audible sigh of relief. William caught the sigh and smiled inwardly to himself. He did feel sorry for the girl—a little—but she had signed up for this job and he wanted to see what she was made of.

He'd been impressed, as he knew he would. She'd fended off every question, had answered what she could and expertly evaded what she couldn't—and had kept a cool head throughout the whole ordeal.

William hadn't expected his irresponsible son to show up for dinner. He never did. And he also knew Bill wouldn't let Christina know where he was. His son was untrustworthy, lazy, immature and stupid. He was probably right now out partying with his friends and getting drunk. Wonder what she'd say to Bill when he finally showed up? Christina didn't strike William as the type to take any crap from anyone, let alone his party boy son.

"Goodnight, my dear." William bent down and gave Christina a kiss on the cheek. "I'm very glad that you're here now." He gave her a fatherly smile and walked out.

Christina took her napkin from her lap and wiped her forehead with it. She had actually been sweating. Sweating!

Oh!!! Was she furious! Raging, volcano furious! That bastard had left her alone to deal with his mess and he hadn't even had the common courtesy to let her know where he was or when or if he was coming home.

And where in all probability was he?

Christina would bet he was with that tramp, Stephie from last night. Probably trying to explain and calm her down. Telling her this was all a ruse for his father's sake. That it would only last one month and the little 'nobody' who was helping him really didn't mean anything to him. And maybe—they were, right now, having sex together, however disgusting that was to think about.

Christina hadn't believed that phony story he'd told her last night about breaking up with that witch. Sure, they'd had an argument last week, as Christina had witnessed but Stephie didn't seem to think it was over.

So they were right now having sex, were they, while Christina was left to hold up his end of the scheme? How dare he? How bloody dare he! Boy, was she mad tonight!

And there was going to be hell to pay tomorrow!

What Christina didn't realize was that these were her first pangs of jealousy too.

* * *

It was 7 p.m. that same night and Bill was sitting in the audience waiting for the Alcoholic Anonymous meeting to begin. He looked at his watch. This was the time his father usually had dinner. Hopefully, Christina had gotten the phone message he'd left for her at her apartment saying that he wouldn't be home for dinner and to avoid his father like the plague.

He'd wanted to talk to her again before Summers came to pick her up but today had been especially hectic for him and when he'd called her, she hadn't answered. He'd also left several messages for Stephie to call him back. Although, they'd been over for a while now, he still felt bad about what had happened last night at the restaurant and wanted to explain things to her in person.

But she never returned his calls today and knowing Stephie, she probably wouldn't. Maybe it was best that things be left as they were. He would be the 'bad guy' in all this and she could feel good that she'd escaped the clutches of a 'prick', as her mother had put it.

At that moment, a man in a wheelchair came in and headed straight for Bill. It was Jake Monroe, Bill's high school drinking buddy, the same Jake that had pulled the cruel joke on Christina all those years ago with Bill.

"Hey Bill, meeting started yet?" he asked as he locked his chair wheels into place.

"Nah, we're still waiting for Greer to show up," Bill answered, as he forlornly watched Jake handle the levers on the wheelchair. It was obvious the two were still the best of friends.

Jake looked up and caught Bill's guilt ridden expression. "It's okay, you know. I've accepted it," he told him.

"But I haven't. I hate seeing you like this," Bill replied forcefully.

"It's been over a year and a half since the accident. I've come to terms with it."

Bill shook his head. "It was all my fault."

"I was the one driving drunk, Bill, not you. You weren't even in the car."

Bill gave a sarcastic smirk, "Only because you'd already dropped my pathetic drunken ass home. You know it could have been me driving drunk that night just as much as you. I'd done it many times before."

"But it wasn't. It was me. My fault. Not yours. I was the one who made that decision that night. I just thank God nobody else was involved in that smashup…except for that tree," Jake laughed, trying to cheer up his friend.

Bill wasn't having any of it. "I'll never drink again," he adamantly stated.

"Remember, don't say 'never'. Take it one day at a time. We won't drink today, only today."

"No, I won't drink today," Bill agreed, as he looked with anguish at his friend. "All the drunken crap we've pulled over the years, all the wasted time, the blackouts, the disappointments we caused everybody…do you think there's hope for two drunks like us, Jake?"

Jake laughed, "I'm living proof, buddy. I should have died in that crash but I didn't. It's my second chance at life… and look at you, this is your second chance too. We've both been sober for over a year and a half, we're working the program and we're trying to do some good in this world. There's hope, man, there's hope."

Bill smiled at his friend's positive attitude. "How are the guys holding up?"

"You can ask them yourself tonight. We're all meeting at the secret location."

"The warehouse on Shelley Ave.?"

"Yeah, at midnight. We've got to discuss strategy."

Bill laughed, "You know, my old man is about to have a coronary with the guys picketing outside his building. Keep up the good work."

Jake laughed too. "GME was your idea… and with your money funding us and your inside knowledge of how your father is running his operations, we've been very successful so far."

"The Guardians of Mother Earth may have been my idea but we're all in this together," Bill corrected him. "You, me and the guys. We all believe in this cause and we have to stop my bastard father from pumping that oil through those decrepit pipelines in the Russian Arctic. It's an environmental disaster over there."

"Hey, you don't have to preach to the choir," Jake laughed again.

"We just have to stop people like him; we have to. This planet is too precious to let greed destroy it. And you know he won't listen to anything else. Hurting his public image and hurting his bottom line are the only ways to get him to stop."

"How's the girl working out?" Jake inquired.

"Christina? She's helping me, although she doesn't know the full extent of how or why. But as long as she's there pretending to be my future wife, my old man will let me stay and allow me access to all the money I can get my hands on. Which reminds me…" Bill patted his jacket pocket with his hand, "…I've got more greenbacks here for you and the guys… and there's more coming through some of those private accounts I set up in the Caribbean."

Jake looked uncomfortably around, "Bill… this… isn't like… stealing, is it? I don't want you to do anything illegal."

Bill lowered his voice so that the other AA members in the room couldn't hear anything. "No Jake, it's not. This is my money that he gives me, along with the salary I earn working for him. You know he's always given it to me and he never asks what I do with it. He just thinks I piss it away like I've always done in the past."

Jake laughs again, "Yes, we did have some fun times together."

Bill laughed too. "Yeah… the ones we remember in between all the drunken blackouts."

"What's this girl Christina like?" Jake was curious. The few times his friend had mentioned her name this past week, his face had always lit up. He knew Bill very well, having been friends since high school and he knew when his friend was more than casually interested in a woman.

"She's…" Bill's face broke out in a smile, "… different."

"Good different… or bad different?"

Bill quickly remembered the car accident, the drink in his face and the cake she'd smashed on his head—and he laughed out loud. "The jury's out on that one," he answered Jake.

At that moment, Thomas Greer came in and headed for the podium. Everyone took their seats and the meeting began.

"My name is Thomas Greer and I'm an alcoholic," he stated.

"Hi Thomas," everyone replied.

"We'll start tonight with…" he stopped as he saw Bill raise his hand, "Yes, Bill?"

Bill stood up. "My name is Bill and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi Bill," everyone again replied together.

"I… I just want to say that I almost had a drink this week," Bill's words gushed out as if he was expelling some bad junk food he'd just eaten.

"What happened?" Thomas Greer questioned.

There were no gasps in the room and no one was passing judgment on Bill. At one point or other, they had all been there and would probably be there again.

"I had a martini thrown in my face," Bill replied.

"By a woman, Bill?" someone in the audience piped up.

"Yeah." Everyone laughed. Bill continued, "I almost took a taste. It was so close… and I wanted to so badly…"

"But you didn't," Jake confirmed.

"No. I jumped in the pool to wash it off."

Again, everyone in the room laughed and some even clapped.

* * *

Click!

Tucked into her luxurious, wrought iron four-poster bed, Christina had just heard Bill's bedroom door open and close shut. She looked at her bedside clock. Bloody hell! 4:10 a.m.!

Where had he been until 4:10 a.m.? With that rich bitch, that's where! Christina closed her eyes again and tried to go back to sleep. She'd get him tomorrow. She'd get him good.