Her Perfect Revenge

by Anna Mara

  "Right… one month." Bill paused. Might as well bring out the big guns. He continued, "For which you're getting paid fifty-six grand."

  The mention of the sordid, dirty money seemed to hang in the air between them like polluted smoke.

  Bill continued, "Look, if this plan is going to work I need a few 'things' from you to make it believable to my father and 'kissing and hugging' like two people in love is one of them."

  If she wasn't willing to do that, then this entire deal might as well blow up in his face right now. Maybe it hadn't been the smartest thing he'd ever done—to bring these points up now when his father could come back at any second but it had been a hard, nerve-racking evening on him too and Bill was getting tired. He almost wanted it to be over—one way or another.

  Christina studied him. His father had been wrong. Billy Havenwood did have balls—to bring this subject up now when his father could come back at any minute and she could tell him everything? William Sr. didn't see it but his son was just like him. He was ruthless, manipulative and cold, as Christina knew first hand from that awful day years ago—and she would never forget that, no matter how much charm he oozed now.

  "Let's get one thing straight, Mr. Havenwood. I will not prostitute myself."

  "But you are taking my money."

  Christina's eyes bored into his. "I owe you fifty-six thousand dollars. It would take a lifetime for someone like me to pay that back. So this is about survival, not greed. Do I make my position clear?"

  "Crystal." Bill gave a little smile. He had to admire her. She did have spunk—loads of it—and she was also very beautiful, all fired up like this—so alive—so magnetic. Now if he could only get her to kiss him.

  Christina, on the other hand, was so steaming mad, that she wanted to launch her plate of food at him and wipe that smarmy smirk off of that handsome face. But the bozo did have a point. There might be moments when they would have to 'play' the happy couple-in-love for his father's sake—and that meant kissing him, however revolting that was to think about. If her revenge plan was to move forward, she'd have to do this. So, she'd just close her eyes and think of England.

  "Don't forget; I want to see a legal contract tomorrow with all the details, financial and otherwise, spelled out," she postulated.

  "Does that mean you're agreeing to comply with my 'terms'?

  "Only when absolutely necessary; so don't make a habit of it, capice?"

  "Loud and clear, madam." Bill smiled to himself. Well, well, well—he had actually gotten his way with her—of sorts. It was a start anyway.

  God, Christina hated that smile on him. Gloat all you want, Mr. Havenwood. You may have won this battle but you are definitely not going to win the war.

  She sarcastically smirked back at him. "But no kissing tonight, darling. I have a headache from your cologne, remember?"

  Bill burst out laughing. She was becoming more and more intriguing to him as the minutes of life ticked by.

  The door opened and William came back into the room and addressed Christina as he sat down. "I do apologize, Christina for having to take that call."

  "What did Downey want?" Bill casually asked, as he sipped his water.

  "Maybe if you'd show up for work more and sit in on meetings, you wouldn't have to ask."

  Bill sarcastically commented to Christina. "Stephen Downey is my father's VP and right-hand man. He shows up for work everyday."

  William glared at his son. "We're discussing strategy on how to fight those goddamn ecological terrorists that have been hounding me for months."

  "You mean The Guardians of Mother Earth?"

  "Yes, that's the damn bunch." William was clearly exasperated.

  Christina watched the two carefully before piping in, "I've heard of them. Quite a persistent group."

  "I'm sure they're no match for the great William Havenwood," Bill chimed in.

  "I'm sure they're not!" William added forcefully. "Now enough about those ruffians. We need to discuss you, my dear. Tomorrow, you'll have your bags packed and ready by noon when my chauffeur will pick you up."

  "What bags?" Christina was confused.

  "You know… your things."

  "I'm sorry, William, what are you talking about?" She turned to Bill who was equally confused.

  "You're moving in here, of course," William stated as he refilled his wine glass.

  "What?" Shocked, both Christina and Bill had spoken the word together.

  "Yes. You're a member of this family now and you'll live here until your wedding and then after your wedding, of course."

  "No, I don't think so, William."

  "No? No?" He turned to Bill. "What does she mean 'no'?"

  "Christina and I may be getting married, dad but we're not moving in together… before the wedding," Bill stiltedly explained.

  "But of course you are. Isn't that what all young people do nowadays?"

  "Not Christina. She's very… traditional." Bill's eyes landed on her face and implored her to help him. God, things were going badly again.

  "Yes, William. I don't believe in… living in sin. It's either marriage or 'nothing' for me." She emphasized the word 'nothing' as her eyes trained back onto Bill's panicky face.

  "My dear, I will not have a future Havenwood living in a dump. Summers, my chauffeur told me how you were living when he came to pick you up tonight."

  Bill jumped in, "I'm going to move Christina into a better apartment until the wedding."

  "Nonsense. Christina will live here starting tomorrow." William was firm.

  "But William, I… I can't. We can't live together… without vows," Christina stammered.

  William sighed with resignation and grabbed her hand, squeezing it protectively like a father would to his daughter. "Your ethics are admirable, my dear especially in this day and age."

  At that moment, one of the under butlers walked in pushing a trolley cart with coffee cups and dessert plates with pieces of chocolate mousse cake piled high with whipped cream. He began to serve.

  William pushed back his chair and stood up. "Unfortunately, I've got some calls to make but you two enjoy your dessert," he pointed to Christina. "And you I will see tomorrow when you move in here."

  "But… but…?" Christina was speechless.

  "Dad, I thought it was settled. Christina and I are not going to live together before the wedding?"

  William turned to his worried son. "And you won't be. She'll have the bedroom next to yours. It's a huge house, after all." He turned to a stupefied Christina. "You're one of us now, my dear and this is where you belong." William gallantly lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Till tomorrow then." He gracefully walked out. The under butler followed him and the 'engaged' couple was left alone.

  Feeling as if she'd just been battered, bruised and bullied, Christina lifted her gaze to Bill. He gave her a little apologetic smile and lifted his hands in the air as if surrendering.

  "I had no idea; honest." Slowly, he could see anger creeping into her face and Bill began to stammer. "There… there was nothing I… I could do." Silent, Christina kept giving him a deadly look. "You've seen the way he is. Once he makes up his mind, that's it." Still no response from her. "I know this wasn't part of our bargain but… maybe we can make it work? What'd you say?" Bill held his breath.

  Still giving him the evil eye, Christina slowly stood up from her chair.

  "Is that a 'yes'?" Bill squeaked.

  Cupping both hands together, Christina scooped up some of the Chocolate Mousse cake from her plate and began to walk around the table towards Bill with it. Bill watched her progress and knew what was coming—but he was rooted to his chair. She came to stand beside him with the gooey, creamy confection.

  He looked up at her then. "You wouldn't dare."

  As if on cue, Christina smashed the cake onto his head—pushing it down hard—making sure it was deeply imbedded into his hair. Pieces of it fell onto his expensive dinner jacket but Bill just sat there and took it like a g
entleman. A part of him knew he deserved it for putting her through so much this evening.

  He looked up again at her angry face. "Hope you don't want coffee with that too," he quipped.

  Christina was so mad at him she couldn't even speak. Grabbing a linen napkin she roughly cleaned her hands of the creamy mess, reached for her purse and started walking towards the door.

  "Christina, wait!" Bill jumped up, brushed off as much of the gooey mess as he could and ran after her.

  * * *

  Spying, William had his eye plastered to the scant two-inch opening of his study door that overlooked the foyer. He suddenly saw the dining room door being flung open and Christina marching away. She had her purse and she was heading for the front doors—and boy, did she look livid.

  William snickered to himself. Wonder what she'd said to his conniving son when he, William, had exited the room? Giddy, he watched as she threw open the massive front doors and stalked outside. She was on the move and there was no stopping her.

  A blink of a second later, he witnessed his deceitful progeny spring out of the dining room and charge after her.

  And what the hell was that on his head and smeared onto his jacket? Could it be? Yes it was! Cake. It was the chocolate mousse cake—and his son looked bloody ridiculous.

  William shut his study door and burst out laughing. The girl had hit him with the cake! Oh, what a perfect topper to a wonderful evening.

  William devilishly giggled to himself. "The family that lives together, sticks together… and sticks it to each other," he mumbled.

  What a bumpy ride this was going to be for his son. And when that ride was over, so would the Havenwood gravy train.

  Chapter 18

  Bill's Jaguar was slowly crawling beside Christina as she was purposefully marching down the long drive away from the house. The driver's window was down and Bill was pleading.

  "Christina, please let me drive you home."

  Christina was so angry with him, with his father, with the entire situation that she didn't want to look at him, hear him or speak to him. All evening long, she'd been railroaded into doing things she didn't want to do and now, these two assholes were expecting her to move in and live with them in that huge house—24/7 for an entire month???!!!

  It had been one thing to pretend to be a 'couple-in-love' for a few dinner dates with his father but now this creep expected her to do it 24 hours a day for thirty days under the laser-sharp eye of his commandeering, overbearing father? How would she survive that?

  Christina kept walking.

  "You can't walk home. It's almost midnight," Bill continued his pleading.

  Christina didn't say anything. Her anger had neutralized her vocal cords.

  "Christina, get in the car… please."

  Bill studied her furious face. He couldn't blame her, really but he should have known his devil father would do something like this. He should have known his father would push and push and push until he'd gotten his way about everything. He was always trying to control Bill's life and Bill should have expected him to try to control Bill's marriage too.

  "Let me drive you home and if you don't want to say anything to me, then you don't have to," Bill continued.

  Christina reached the end of the drive and walked through the open gates. She opened her purse and retrieved her cell phone. She was calling a cab and getting the hell out of here.

  Bill stopped his car beside her. "You know, it'll take a cab an hour to reach this place. Do you really want to wait an hour until 1 a.m. in the middle of nowhere?"

  Christina put the phone to her ear and Bill heard her say, "Hi, I'd like a cab at 14025 Wickingham Drive." She paused, then exploded, "What? An hour?" Angry, her eyes flashed to Bill and he smiled. "Never mind. Thank you," she barked into the phone before slapping it closed with one push.

  Bill reached over and opened the passenger door invitingly. Christina glared at him as she reluctantly plopped herself into the plush seat. She slammed the door shut and stared straight ahead through the windshield, refusing to look at him.

  Bill studied the beautiful creature beside him. "I know you don't want to talk to me but you're going to have to tell me where to take you. I don't know where you live."

  Christina gave him a deadly fierce look. If looks could kill, as the old adage said, he'd have been incinerated to burnt toast right about now.

  Then, reaching into her purse, she pulled out a small pad and pen and wrote the words, 'twenty-third and sixth' on it. She shoved it in front of Bill's face.

  Bill looked at the paper and then at her set expression. "The silent treatment still on?" he asked. Not answering, Christina stared straight ahead. "Okay then," he surrendered. He put the Jaguar in drive and squealed onto the street.

  Christina gave him a sneaky look from under her lashes. She knew that not speaking to him may have been childish and immature but it was the only thing making her feel good right now—so what the hell!

  * * *

  They had been driving for twenty minutes and neither of them had spoken a word. Christina sensed rather than saw his eyes dart towards her several times. She knew he was worried. She would be too, if she were in his position. Good. Let him worry. Let him panic. Let him suffer. Looked good on him. But then anything would look good on that handsome mug.

  Suddenly, Bill reached over to turn on the radio and his arm accidentally brushed her leg. Christina felt the physical sparks again—almost as if he'd given her a static shock. She quickly pulled her leg away from him.

  "Sorry," he mumbled.

  So—he'd felt it too, she sensed. The damn car was too small anyway and they were sitting too close to each other. And God—the heat inside the Jaguar was getting to be unbearable. Christina felt like she was on fire. She reached out to her passenger door, fumbling for the window button. Suddenly, the window magically slid down half way and she turned to Bill who gave her a big grin.

  Christina gave him a full-on glare before turning her frozen face away. She heard him sigh with frustration.

  Suddenly, Christina's calculator brain started to add a few things up. When William had first mentioned the "moving-in thing", she'd been furious. Things were quickly spiraling out of her control and she'd felt like a bedsheet on a clothesline, being pulled by the wind.

  But, thinking logically—if—she were to move in with those dastardly Havenwoods, she would have complete and total access to Bill's life—to his routines, his secrets, his everything. It would be so much easier to dig up dirt on the bum if she was inside the nest rather than if she was outside looking in. What if this 'moving-in thing' was actually a blessing in disguise?

  Christina instantly made up her mind. She would definitely move in tomorrow and with the unlimited access to his life that alone would give her, she could dig up enough manure on Billy Havenwood to bury him.

  Bill turned onto Twenty-third Street and in seconds he pulled over to the curb, outside her apartment building. As he shut off the engine, Christina was already fumbling for the door handle.

  "Do I get a goodnight kiss?" Bill sarcastically cracked.

  Ever so slowly, Christina turned her head towards him, exorcist style and gave him another chilly glare.

  "That looks like a 'no'," he continued, half to himself. "So, are you moving in tomorrow?" Christina kept glaring at him. He was clearly becoming frustrated as he let out a quick breath. "Say something," he said in exasperation.

  Christina paused, for effect. "There's cake in your hair," she enunciated before opening her door. In a flash, she was out of the car and walking towards her building.

  Panicking, Bill scooted out and looking over the top of his car, shouted after her, "I'll come by tomorrow. We'll talk then."

  Christina pretended to ignore him and just kept walking. Let him wait for his answer. Why should she make this easy for him? She reached her front doors and disappeared inside.

  Frustrated, Bill slapped the roof of his car before getting back in. Tomorrow, he was go
ing to have to use every ounce of charm, fast-talking and brains he had to convince Christina to help him. But would she? Or was this the end of the Havenwood billion dollar line for him?

  He revved up his Jaguar and pulled out into the city traffic. Crap—he wasn't going to sleep a wink tonight.

  Meanwhile, as Christina entered her apartment, she threw her hands up joyfully in the air and shouted, "yes" to the heavens. This was going to work! Her revenge plan was actually going to work! It was time Bill Havenwood paid his dues.

  Wow—revenge really was sweet and she could almost taste it.

  Chapter 19

  Bill Havenwood wasn't the only one who hadn't slept all night. Christina hadn't either but for very different reasons. Ideas and plans had raced through her mind and she'd spent the night detailing everything in her journal. By morning, she had a clear picture of what she was going to do to make the rat bastard suffer.

  By 9 a.m., Christina left a message for Jenny at the Streetwise Magazine office to meet her at Napoleon's Restaurant for lunch. Jenny and her little daughter Taylor lived in the same apartment building as Christina. She had knocked on Jenny's door this morning but her friend had already left for work.

  * * *

  "I'm engaged." Christina blurted out the words in a rush.

  Both Jenny and her were seated at a small table near the back of ritzy Napoleon's. Being lunch hour, the chi-chi eatery was already suffocating with patrons.

  Stunned, Jenny froze with her wine glass poised in mid-air. "But you haven't been on a date in months?"

  Christina sheepishly rolled her eyes up if to say, 'you never know'. Dawning crept into Jenny's eyes. "Is it Stanley Moore? Have you been secretly dating Stanley Moore?"

  "Stanley?"

  "I knew he had the hots for you. And then he offered to give you free legal advice about your car accident and it all adds up. Good ole Stanley."

  "Jenny…"

  "He's a good catch you know, being a lawyer and a good one at that." Jenny took a big sip of her wine.