The Calendar Game (The Alpha Series Book 2)

by Andie M. Long

  There's a pause. 'Did we not cook up revenge on Harry because he was being a total user twat?'

  'Yes.'

  'And you made him an erection bedding display?'

  'Yes.'

  'Then I gather you made up?'

  'Yes. On that very flowerbed actually.'

  'You saucy cow. Just a minute.' Stella puts her hand over her mouth. Then she removes it and screams. 'It's no good I can't keep it in. I can't believe you're married to that hunk. Fucking hell, what's he like in bed? No don't tell me, I can imagine if you married him that fucking quick. Let me see the ring again. I love it. Please tell me you'll both be at my wedding. Oh why am I not over there with you. Skype squeeze.' She hugs the computer and I hug mine.

  Then she demands I tell her absolutely everything from the beginning.

  'Hi Sam.'

  'Aunt Ronnie. Is it hot there? You look sweaty.'

  I turn away from the camera and glare at Harry, who shrugs. We just christened my bed in the bungalow.

  'It's the heating honey. It needs turning down. Could you do that please, Harry?'

  Sam sneers. 'Harry? That soccer player. What's he doing there?'

  'That's what I called to tell you. You know how I stopped seeing Col because he wasn't very nice?'

  'My dad showed me his photo with another lady. He's a motherfucker.'

  'Yes, well. Harry and I got together because he’s actually very nice, and well, we got married.' I once again hold my ring up to the camera.

  'What did she just say?' A woman's shrill voice comes from the side of Sam, out of frame. Nina sits next to Sam and squeezes in.

  'What did you just say? It sounded suspiciously like you got married.'

  'She did. To Harry Taylor who plays soccer.'

  'I can't leave you alone for five minutes, Ronnie Huntington-Jones.'

  'That's Ronnie Taylor to you.'

  'Oh my God, so it is. We are so meeting up the moment I'm back. I need details. I'm off to tell Mike your developments. Your life is more entertaining than a soap opera. You make Eastenders look boring.' She blows a kiss at the camera. 'Congratulations.'

  'Thank you.'

  Sam looks at the screen. His arms are folded. 'Put him on.'

  I beckon Harry with my finger. 'You're wanted.'

  Harry takes a seat in front of the laptop. He looks more nervous now than when he met my father. 'Er, hey Sam.'

  Sam raises a finger menacingly. 'You hurt Ronnie. You make her cry even once. I will be there. I will spit in your drinks. I will piss in them. I will shoot you with my Nerf gun. I will wipe my ass on your cushions. You feel me?'

  'Sam, that's quite enough.' says Mike coming on screen. 'I apologise Ronnie, oh I mean Harry. Congrats by the way.'

  We shout thanks.

  'No that's quite okay. I promise, Sam. I promise to take very good care of your Aunt Ronnie. I love her. I promise to protect her forever. Okay?'

  'Well you can't protect her forever because sometimes people die. Will you teach me to play soccer, Uncle Harry?'

  Uncle Harry? That was fast.

  'Of course I will.'

  'So when can I come to visit?'

  And that was even faster, the sneaky monkey.

  'Er…'

  'Sam, say goodbye. They only just got married. They need time alone.'

  Sam looks horrified. 'Ewww.' He shakes his head. 'God it's bad enough that you and Nina don't stop making out. Now they're at it.' He shuffles off. 'I'm going on my Xbox to kill people and wipe out thoughts of girls.'

  Relaxing on my sofa with Harry, I review the day. 'Well, all in all I think our announcements went okay.'

  'They did. By the way, you're going to have to meet my Maw in the New Year. She does a mean Burn's Night celebration and insists we come.'

  'That'll be nice. I've never been to Scotland. There's just one thing left to do now. Can I announce our wedding on my channel?'

  'You can, but I think you should wait until after Saturday the eleventh of October.'

  'Why?'

  'Because you need to be single for your revenge against the Fernsby’s to work.'

  'My, my husband, I believe I've met my match with you.'

  'What can I say?' Harry pushes me over onto the sofa, pulls my pants to one side and enters me. I'm still wet from before. 'I shoot, I score.'

  Later ...

  'Charlie?'

  'Ronnie? I didn't expect to hear from you again to be honest.'

  'I'm phoning to say I'm sorry… about Harry. He's always following me around trying to get famous. I told him he shouldn't have interfered. I apologise that I didn't get in touch with you straightaway. I needed some time to think. Your kiss. It threw me. You know, with my history with Col.'

  'Yeah. I shouldn't have just leapt on you like that. I should have told you how I felt first.'

  'Well anyway. I've been thinking and I… well I feel the same way, Charlie. If it's not weird for you, then let's go for it. Let's go public. Date. What do you think?'

  'Really?' His voice has risen.

  'Yeah, let's do this.'

  'Do you think? Erm, no you wouldn't.'

  'I wouldn't what?'

  'We're having a fundraiser. It's on Saturday the eleventh of this month. Would you like to accompany me? I realise it's very public.'

  'No that's fine. I'd love to. Email me all the details, dress code etc.'

  'Would you talk about your fundraising for the sanctuary there? If my mother was agreeable?'

  'I don't think your mother is going to be all that pleased with seeing me there, but if you think it would help…'

  'I'm sure it would. It's a date then, unless you'd like to meet before that?'

  'No. No. I've a lot on. You know charity-wise. I'll look forward to seeing you then.'

  'Me too. Bye Ronnie.'

  'Bye.' I put the phone down. 'You motherfucking twatwaffle.'

  Saturday 11 October 2014

  Charlie opens the door of our chauffeur driven limo and I demurely exit, careful to not expose my ladygarden; I think it’s had enough fame. The dress I'm wearing, silver and sheer, meant no panties could be worn beneath. I wondered if Harry was ever going to let me out of the house. He was not exactly impressed that I was sans knickers on a date with another man.

  We enter the Bloomsbury Ballroom, the venue for the nights fundraising event. I spot Charlotte and Thomas talking to another couple. They turn, see us and fix us with wide smiles.

  'Ronnie, darling. Good to see you again, love. I'm hoping it's my turn next,' says Thomas, winking.

  'So amusing, my husband.' Charlotte touches my arm. 'Would you accompany me to the Ladies Room, Veronica. I need to freshen up.'

  I follow her to a cordoned off area. A man lifts the rope for her.

  'This bathroom is for Fernsby use only. I've no wish to share my ablutions with the rest of the guests. We can speak freely here.'

  I have no idea what to say to her.

  'I've been watching you Veronica. You've surprised me. I did believe you were a half-wit; privileged daughter of a successful businessman and society mother, with no endearing qualities of your own. Vacuous. However it seems you have quite the talent for fundraising. Our family could use your expertise. You'd make an excellent wife for Charles.'

  My hands are clenched behind my back. 'Not for Col?'

  'No dear. Not for my firstborn. Col has to marry someone of pedigree. I'm sorry that it meant I had to put the brakes on your relationship. I know Col had feelings for you. However it's different with Charles. I'm sure you've heard of Heir and a Spare. You're from money, and as long as you devote yourself to the Fernsby's Fundraising initiative, I think it would be a good connection. Charles seems to think you wouldn't mind if he wants to go travelling either.'

  'It sounds like you both have this all figured out?'

  'I know it sounds very clinical, Veronica, but that's what life in my circle is like. It's all about appearance. Speaking of which, did Charles ask you to discuss yo
ur fundraising this evening?'

  'He did.'

  'If you could say it was our idea that you worked with the Sanctuary. Give us a thank you and then declare your love for Charles, well, I think that would go down very well, for all of us.'

  'Right. Okay.'

  'I'm so glad we had this little chat. Let's take our seats, shall we? I hope yourself and Thomas junior can be civil this evening.'

  'Of course. We're all grownups. We're in different relationships now. We've moved on.'

  'Splendid.'

  I walk behind her towards our table. I do not know how I haven't performed one of my martial arts moves on her. I'd kick her in the vagina, but would be hard pushed to find it seeing as she's a complete twat.

  However I'm soon distracted by the bizarre sight of my ex-lover and his brother. Col looks everywhere but at me.

  ‘Hello Col,’

  He looks at me with fake surprise. Then nods his head at me and introduces me to his fiancée. Charlie kisses my cheek while surreptitiously fondling my arse. I feel like I'm in some Noel Coward farce.

  We eat a lovely meal while the fundraising takes place. While I hate the Fernsby's, I'm pleased tonight’s event is doing somebody some good.

  'Everything okay, Ronnie?' asks Charlie. 'With my mother I mean.'

  I tap his arm. 'Absolutely perfect. We had a lovely chat. I know exactly what I need to do.'

  Charlie picks up our champagne and hands me my glass. 'To us,' he says. 'Are you ready?'

  I nod.

  As he clinks glasses with me, a man comes on stage to introduce me.

  'A toast to my husband,' I say, with a simpering giggle.

  Charlie nearly chokes. 'Wow, you and my mother really have had a chat. I thought I'd have to court you for a while first.'

  I smile and rise from my seat. I walk towards Harry who has just introduced me. It didn't take long for Sue to get him into this position. She's bloody good at her job, and The Fernsby's had fucked off their PR lady just once too often.

  'So, I would like to invite to the stage Ronnie Huntington-Jones.'

  There's polite applause from the gathered crowd, who are obviously more used to seeing me pissed up and lying in bushes than at society events.

  'Ladies and gentlemen, before I speak, I'd like to show you a compilation of work done at the Rosebush Sanctuary and how your donations this evening can help these animals find loving homes.'

  A tear-jerking compilation of abandoned and abused animals is shown on screen.

  'It has been my mission to raise money for Rosebush. So far we have raised one hundred thousand pounds.' People applaud. 'This has meant the kennels are in the process of being improved, ensuring the dogs have a more pleasant and comfortable life while they are resident. However there is much more that can be done.' I show another video of what the sanctuary hopes to achieve with fundraising.

  'I'm afraid I don't have a holiday or anything for you to bid on this evening. Those who know me well, know I have a tendency to be centre-stage, whether I want to be or not. So, I have an exclusive for you on my brand new relationship.' I laugh. 'That's right, I'm in love.' I look at the Fernby's. 'So why don't we have some fun and bid on seeing myself and the love of my life's first public kiss?'

  The crowd laugh and place small bids on my ludicrous suggestion. However the press that are present this evening are busy on their phones, securing a budget for an exclusive picture.

  Bidding is slowing down when Charlie puts up his hand. 'Two hundred thousand pounds.' I see Charlotte give him a disgusted look. He is wasted.

  Col holds up his hand. The microphone is carried over to him. 'I'll donate five hundred thousand for you to not do it. Take the money for your sanctuary and leave.'

  There's a hush from the crowd. Col's fiancée stands up and begins to walk out. He goes running after her.

  Charlie, teeth gritted, beckons for, then grabs the microphone. 'Six hundred thousand pounds—final offer.'

  Charlotte places her head in her hands.

  There are no more bids.

  'Wow. I didn't realise one kiss could be so popular.' I laugh. 'So without further ado.'

  I see Charlie rise from his seat and rush towards the stage.

  I grab hold of Harry's collar.

  'Please everyone, meet my husband… Mr Harry Taylor. I love you, honey.'

  His mouth meets mine and though flashes abound and people stand and applaud, I see no-one but him.

  Back at Harry's we can't stop laughing.

  'I don't think Charlie's going to be travelling for the foreseeable future.'

  'Do you know what? I don't give a shit. I'm done with revenge now, husband. I'm going to spend my time on better things.'

  'Better things like me?'

  'Could be.'

  'Move that dress to the side. Do a Sharon Stone.'

  'A what?'

  'A Sharon Stone. You know, in that film where she crosses and uncrosses her legs and shows her minge.'

  'I have no idea what you are talking about.'

  'Is that right? I think you need an education.'

  After a flash of my bush and the resulting sexcapades, movie time is deferred until the following day.

  Sunday 12 October 2014

  'Well so much for us lying low in the press. We're front page of every tabloid and broadsheet, wife.' Harry throws the newspapers on the bed. 'They're reckoning that your sanctuary has raised over a million pounds now. The public are donating too.'

  'Really? I'll speak to them about it. We ought to share it around some other local animal charities if they're in agreement.'

  'I'm so proud of you.'

  'Why thank you. Now all this excitement is over. What do we have planned for today?'

  Harry waves a DVD at me. 'Basic Instinct. Then you can do a Sharon for me again.'

  I throw my pillow at him.

  Monday 13 October 2014

  I have a new girl crush. Sharon Stone. In her Sliver phase. I watched it this morning. Absolutely love that blonde bob. I've booked into my hairdressers this afternoon. After finishing my relationship with the Fernsby's once and for all, I've decided I'd like a change. It'll be a lot more practical for gardening too. Plus I'm sick of eating my own hair when I'm trying to eat Harry's dick.

  My mobile phone rings. Well, well. It's Groomzilla.

  'Gabe.'

  'Hey, Ronnie. Can you do me a favour?'

  'Sure.'

  'Can you get Athena a dress to match your own? They'll be about the same size won't they titch?'

  'Har har. No problemo. How's it going?'

  'Fine. I'm getting the final prep underway now.'

  'I hope so because you don't have long.'

  'It's fine. Everything's under control. As long as you can bring Athena a dress.'

  'Yah. Winter Wonderland theme dress. Got it.'

  'Thanks. You're a star.'

  'I'm heading into London this afternoon, I'll go shopping and get our outfits. Then I'll email you so you know it's all sorted.'

  'Thanks again, Ronnie.'

  I end the call and smirk as an idea forms. I always wanted a Frozen themed wedding, but I got married at the Registry Office instead. So Winter Wonderland. Athena and myself can be Frozen bridesmaids.

  I grab my bag and purse. I can't wait to hit the shops.

  Then tonight, I plan to invite Harry into the bathroom to watch me masturbate a la Sharon Stone in Sliver.

  I love my life.

  Wednesday 29 October 2014

  Mr 'I have everything under control' Gregory has emailed me again. I've had to tell him straight that British Hen Parties have a stripper and he'd better organise one or I will. I also told him to make sure he isn't pathetic and that he orders a good looking stripper. In the evening he sends me another email saying he's booked a restaurant with a drag act (kudos) and a spa day (yawn). I've told him I have a plan for after the spa day. I saw a magazine article the other day about hen do's and this, well, it should be a right laugh.
>
  I appraise my new hair style as I pass the mirror. I love it. Harry was shocked, but thinks it looks nicer than when it was long. Looking at my head reminds me. I'd better get a Hen do veil for Stella, and a few other hen do style treats. Nothing too over-the-top of course. Hahahahahahaha. Did you believe me? It's only the hairstyle that's changed you know. Last time I had a chocolate penis, the spoilsport didn't let me eat it.

  CHAPTER 12

  November 2014

  Independence

  (Would have been good for July though I’m not American)

  Friday 14 November 2014

  Yes, you've heard correctly. I'm newly married and decided my theme for the month is independence. Myself and Harry have obviously been spending a lot of time together, being newlyweds, but the time has come for me to stand on my own two feet.

  The first thing on my list was learning to drive. Harry did offer to teach me, but after I drove the wrong way around a roundabout he became strangely unenthusiastic and suggested I get a proper instructor.

  My first proper instructor didn't turn up the second time and isn't answering calls.

  I've now booked for an intensive course as this is taking rather too much time.

  I need to get my own wheels so that I can take the next step of independence—my gardening business. My father has set everything up for me, like he promised, but it's all mine. I've booked a few customers in. I therefore need wheels so I can carry my tools around to each job.

  Today I'm off to Rosebush to walk dogs. It's a chilly day so I wrap up well. I have poop bags in my pocket, as well as some dog treats. I can't believe how good I am now at recognising how different breeds respond and some bad habits the dogs have developed. For example do you know you shouldn't let dogs jump up at you? It's bad form because then they jump up at visitors who get cross at the dog when actually it's your fault they've just put muddy paws on the visitors Dolce & Gabbana. That's what the staff told me after some rich old biddy complained. When they weren't looking I emptied a dog turd near her foot so she stepped in it. She went home in disgust and a dog had a narrow escape from being subjected to Mrs Fussypants.