by Anna Mara
Christina bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. Here was the great Bill Havenwood slumped over her car hood because she had hit him—accidentally, of course—in the billionaire family jewels. Oh, who would have thought her revenge could have begun so quickly?
Suddenly, an ambulance appeared on the scene along with the police. A crowd of onlookers had circled around them by now and the emergency vehicles had a difficult time trying to get through. Christina waved at them.
"Over here; someone's been injured." She pointed to Bill was slowly straightening up away from the car.
"No, I'm okay." Bill limped a few steps as the paramedics came rushing over. One of them put his hand on Bill's arm.
"Sir, where are you hurt?" he inquired.
"I'm fine, really."
Christina butted into the conversation using her 'concerned' voice. "No, you're not fine." She addressed the paramedic. "I think he hurt…" Christina lowered her tone and pointed to Bill's groin area, "…his package." A few of the women onlookers snickered. None of the men did.
Bill gave an embarrassed laugh. "Nothing to worry about." He took a few more tentative steps. "See? I'm walking it off."
"Sir, if you'd like to go to the hospital?" The paramedic wasn't convinced.
"No… no hospital needed; really."
Inside, Christina was laughing to herself. Was Billy's face actually turning red? Beet red? Yes, it was. Uncomfortable, was he? Well, she'd only just begun. She turned back to Bill.
"Maybe you should go. Have them take a look."
Bill turned to her. "I think… you've done enough, thank you," he gritted through his teeth.
Raising her shoulders in a 'whatever' gesture, Christina walked to where the two cars were sandwiched together and where a police officer was already inspecting the damage. She looked down at the mangled mess. How was she ever going to pay for this?
Her junk-heap-of-a-car was totaled—a complete write-off. And his expensive red Ferrari? Well, the backend had been flattened like a tortilla—and she didn't have any insurance to pay for any of it. But did she care? No. In fact, it was even funny. This was the funniest, damn thing she had ever seen in her life.
Suddenly, Christina burst out laughing—and she couldn't stop. Her attitude was irresponsible, crazy and mad; she knew it. And she also knew that she'd cry about this later on; but right now, the enormity of her predicament and its consequences had been shoved to the back of her mind. She was on such a high for having got the better of Bill Havenwood that nothing else mattered. She was just going to enjoy the moment.
Bill stared at Christina in amazement. She was laughing? She was actually—laughing? He'd met some crazy women in his time but this one was a true wacko—even if she was beautiful and attractive—and very hot.
He approached her in disbelief, still limping all the way. "What's so funny?" he piped up.
Christina tried to stem her giggles. "Delayed shock or something." She looked back at his car. "Sorry about your—car.” She burst out laughing again.
Bill followed her gaze and looked down at the Ferrari. For the first time since the accident, he saw the extent of the damage. Earlier, he'd been too preoccupied with whether this crazy woman had been hurt or not that he hadn't even taken a good look, but now that he had—
"Oh my God, my car!" Bill was stunned. "Look at what you did to my car."
Christina stopped laughing but still couldn't help smirking. "It was an accident."
"It's… it's… unbelievable!" Bill's voice began to rise with astonishment and anger. "There must be thirty, forty thousand dollars worth of damage here."
"What!" That wiped the smile off of Christina's face and it suddenly wasn't funny anymore. "You can't be serious."
"This is a Ferrari. Do you have any idea what repairs and parts cost on something like this?" Bill was now yelling.
"It wasn't my fault," Christina started to yell back.
"Oh, it was your fault, all right. I was stopped and you hit me. Where, in the hell, did you think you were going?"
"I… I didn't see you. There was a van blocking my view and…"
Bill put his hands up, stemming her words. "Lady, I don't need this today, of all days." He looked at his watch. "Great, now I'm late too." Angrily, he turned back to Christina. "Thanks a lot, sweetheart." Limping back to where he had dropped his cell phone earlier, he picked it up and dialed. "Hi Charlotte, it's me. I know I'm late but tell the old bastard that I've just been in a car accident." He pulled the phone away from his ear but kept talking into it. "What? I can't hear you. The phone's breaking up." He slammed the phone shut, then limped back to where Christina was standing.
Flabbergasted, Christina looked up at him. "There's no way this'll cost thirty, forty thousand dollars. You're just trying to s… scare me."
"Think so? Now why would I do that?" Bill was very irritated. This had not been a good day for him so far and it wasn't over yet.
"Because… you're mad I ruined your stupid car and… and…" The full impact of what had happened finally hit Christina like a shovel to the face. Thirty to forty thousand dollars? It couldn't be! Where was she going to get that kind of money?
"And what? Look at it. Look at my car. You know, I think it could even go as high as fifty grand." Bill shook his head as he reached into his wallet for his driver's license.
"Fifty…?" Christina's eyes wandered back to the smashed, red metal. She was in trouble; serious, serious trouble. Trouble like she'd never been in before. What was she going to do?
Bill looked over at Christina and saw how badly shaken she suddenly seemed to be. Maybe she had been hurt in the accident after all? He should really calm down and find out.
He didn't even know why he was yelling. Sure, his car had been smashed but it had happened. Yelling about it and making a scene wasn't going to change anything.
His tone of voice softened and he put a comforting arm around Christina's shoulders. "Maybe you should sit down and have one of the paramedics look you over."
Christina looked at his hand touching her arm and she flinched. Billy Havenwood was actually touching her; pretending he was concerned about her welfare; pretending to be nice. What a phony!
"Hey, I don't need your sympathy," she spouted. The tough, in-control Christina was back.
Bill let go of her as if he'd just touched a hot stove. Raising his hands up in surrender, he backed off. "Sorry, it won't happen again." Miffed, he walked away to where one of the officers was standing.
Another police officer, Officer Robbins, a twenty-year veteran, approached Christina. "Ma'am, can I please see your driver's license and insurance?"
"S… sure." Christina went back to her own mangled heap and grabbed her purse. She handed her license over and waited anxiously for the next question.
"And your insurance, please?"
A huge lump of fear suddenly lodged in Christina's throat. "Well… I… don't have any." She quickly shut her eyes as if that would save her from any fallout.
Officer Robbins, who'd heard and seen everything, calmly shook his head; and silently began to write in his notebook.
"Did I hear right?" Bill's voice boomed through Christina’s thoughts. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see him standing in front of her with his arms folded over his chest.
"You don't have any insurance?" he asked again incredulously.
Christina squeaked out a little, "No."
With anger flashing from his green eyes, Bill turned to Officer Robbins, "I'm not paying for this."
"Sir, please calm down."
"This wasn't my fault."
"Sir, please."
Bill shut up and Officer Robbins walked away to his squad car to call into dispatch.
Taking in a calming breath, Bill stared at Christina. "Who doesn't have insurance? Everybody has insurance. You can't drive without insurance," he asked.
"I was going to pay it; but I didn't have enough money. Somebody like you…" Christina gave him a disgusted up and d
own appraisal, "… would never understand that."
"Oh, I understand, all right. I understand you should have been taking the bus."
She couldn't argue with him there—but she was going to anyway. "I don't appreciate your tone of voice."
Stupefied, Bill laughed out loud. "Tough." This was one crazy, beautiful loony bird, he thought to himself.
Christina raised her chin in defiance. "In fact, I think you owe me an apology."
"I owe you what?"
"An apology for your rude behavior just now." Christina knew she was pushing it too far but she wasn't going to let him get the better of her no matter what she had to say.
Bill shook his head as if to get the cotton balls out of his ears. "You want me to apologize to you? To you?"
"Yes."
"Honey, it ain't gonna happen." Bill couldn't believe her gall. If he weren't so angry, he'd almost have to admire her. "Let me ask you something? What do you do for a living?"
"What's it to you?"
"I'm just curious how you're going to pay for this disaster." Bill pointed to the wreckage.
Christina held her head up proudly. "I'm a photographer."
"Like for babies and puppies?"
"No, I'm on assignment right now for Streetwise."
"What's that?"
"It's a local magazine."
"Streetwise? Isn't that the newspaper you get at clubs—for free?" Bill emphasized the word 'free' as if it disgusted him. He shook his head. "A starving artist with no money. Well, I guess my insurance company will be suing you for damages then."
"Probably." Christina lifted her nose in defiance.
"Oh—you can bet your sweet little ass they will." Suddenly, he flashed her a confident smile, giving her the same head-to-toe appraisal she'd given him moments earlier.
"That's something I never bet, Mr…?" Christina pretended not to know his name.
"Havenwood. Bill Havenwood."
Admiration and interest kept shining in Bill's eyes as he studied Christina. She may be exasperating but she had spunk and that intrigued him. As a matter of fact, a lot about this woman had instantly intrigued him and he didn't know why.
She was pretty; but he knew lots of pretty girls. She was smart—he could tell. But so what? He knew lots of smart girls too. No—there was something original and unique about her, an almost Dr. Jekell and Mr. Hyde quality. One second, she seemed to be innocent and naïve—and the next cunning and strong. He couldn't figure her out. But whatever it was, he liked it; he liked it a lot.
He gave her another rakish smile. "And you are?" Bill let the question hang in the air.
"I'm what?" Christina played dumb. What a jerk! He was actually flirting with her.
"Your name? What's your name?" He asked again.
Suddenly, Christina's heart started pounding against her ribs. Her name; what if he recognized her name? Then he'd know she was that little nobody from high school. But wait! So what if he recognized her? It could just be a coincidence, right? Two former schoolmates meeting by accident—literally. And he'd never, in a million-years, figure out that she'd actually been following him. Besides, her name would be on the police report anyway—
"You don't know your name?" Bill teasingly prodded.
"Christina. Christina Matteo."
There, she'd said it. Did he remember her now? Christina searched his face for any spark of recognition; but there was none. Her name hadn't rung a bell in that alcohol-damaged brain of his at all. She refocused on what he was saying.
"Well, Christina Matteo, you'll be hearing from my insurance company." He smiled then—that smile someone gives you when they know they've got you cornered.
Christina shot him a dirty look. "I'm in the book," she decreed, before turning to leave.
"You'd better get a good one; a lawyer, I mean."
She turned to glare at him. He was smiling again—that damn, superior smile. Boy, she'd love to smack that off his face.
Coyly, she smiled at him. "Are you going to sue me for personal injury too?”
"What?"
"In case 'it's' not working." Christina pointed to his private parts.
The smug look was instantly wiped off of Bill's face. "Don't worry your pretty little head. Everything's fine down there," he announced proudly.
"Well, I did hit you very hard and I've read that when that happens to a man, he may not be able to—function properly. But it's nothing to be embarrassed about. It happens to a lot of men," Christina gave him her best fake smile of concern. Take that, you bastard, she thought.
Bill, suddenly, returned her smile and limped closer. He leaned into her face and whispered, "I'm not worried. Know why? Because it's—functioning—right now, thanks to you, Ms. Matteo. You can take a look, if you don't believe me."
Christina glowered into his green eyes as he continued to smile at her with those perfect white teeth of his. The cad! He was enjoying this and getting turned on by the game—her game—and getting turned on by her.
She was repulsed. "Mr. Havenwood, I wouldn't turn you on if I was on fire and you were the nearest faucet."
He laughed then—a good, hearty, laugh. He was truly enjoying himself. Christina thought that last crack would have insulted him but it hadn't.
Damn it. Well, she wasn't going to stand here and spar with this creep any longer. Dismissing him, she turned and walked to the police cruiser. But she could hear his laughter following her—just like all those years ago—and it sent chills down her spine.
Christina approached Officer Robbins. "Excuse me, but his car? Can that really be fifty thousand dollars worth of damage?"
The officer looked back to the accident scene. "Probably."
Christina bit her lip hard. So Havenwood hadn't been lying. Where was she going to get that kind of money?
The colossal jam she was in finally registered in Christina's brain and she suddenly felt faint. Not only was she now without a car herself; but she owed all that money for his car too? She should never have started this revenge thing; never. It had been a big mistake. But at least, he hadn't remembered her; she was pretty sure of that. But Christina didn't know whether to feel relieved or insulted. Had she been that forgettable?
Bill Havenwood had gotten the better of her in the past.
He had done it again today—for the second time in her life.
Chapter 10
In the end, Christina was charged with careless driving and driving without insurance. And as for the damages to Havenwood's Ferrari? She'd been told by Officer Robbins that she would probably be taken to court and have her wages garnished for a very long time. She'd then avoided Havenwood while the tow trucks were removing the mangled cars and had taken pictures of the accident scene with her camera. After all, they might help her in court.
Christina had felt his eyes on her the whole time she was shooting the frames but she didn't acknowledge him with a look of her own. She just couldn't deal with him anymore that day. She'd had enough.
After finishing her film and without so much as a backward glimmer, she caught a cab to the Streetwise Magazine office. She needed to speak to Jenny. She'd know what to do and what to say to make Christina feel better.
***
"You did what?" Jenny's eyes bulged out as Christina recounted the days' events. The two were sitting in the small lunchroom having a coffee.
"I didn't mean to."
"Chrissy, oh my God!"
"It's not that bad."
"It's bad."
Christina's face fell. "I know. And no I-told-you-so's, okay?"
Jenny studied her friend's dejected face and her tone of voice softened. "If you needed money for insurance, why didn't you come to me?"
"Because it's embarrassing and I'm not borrowing money from you. Besides, you're barely making it yourself and you've got Taylor."
"I knew this was going to lead to disaster; I had a feeling."
"Why don't you think he remembered me?"
"Chrissy, you
were only at that school for three weeks before you left. It's probably not even listed on your school records."
"But what he did to me…?"
"Listen, you look different now; and Havenwood was drunk twenty-four seven. I doubt he'd remember the name of that school, let alone you."
"I guess you're right."
"You sound disappointed?" Jenny was trying to figure out what was going on in Christina's brain.
"Jenny, no way; you know how I feel about him." Christina took a gulp of her coffee without even tasting it. She wasn't disappointed. She hated that man. How could Jenny even think that?
"All I know is that you're not indifferent to him. And one thing my marriage to Derek taught me is that the opposite of love is indifference, not hate. Love and hate are actually this close." Jenny brought her index finger and thumb together in front of her face.
Christina suddenly burst out laughing. "Me? In love with rat bastard, Havenwood? You're crazy." Trust Jenny. She could always be counted on to bring a smile to your face. Christina sobered a little. "Jenny, what am I going to do? I don't have that kind of money."
"First thing, get some legal advice. I'll give you the number for Stanley Moore, the lawyer we use here at the Magazine. Second thing—you are giving up your revenge plan, right Chrissy?"
Christina thought about it for a second. Should she?
"Chrissy!" Jenny was shocked at her friend's silence.
"Yes, yes, it's over. I don't want to even hear Bill Havenwood's name again. The whole thing was a huge mistake."
"Good. I'm glad to hear it." Jenny was afraid for her friend. This wasn't over yet and she feared that when it was, Billy Havenwood would hurt Christina all over again.
On her part, Christina didn't say anything to Jenny about Havenwood making a pass at her. It was too ridiculous to even think about. He was just being a man.
Chapter 11
Bill Havenwood was dreading this—a meeting with his father. Or should he say a castration—because that's what it felt like whenever he was summoned to the inner sanctum of his father's palatial office at Fido Foods.
