“Uh huh,” Grant grunted. “Too bad that you’re about to be eaten alive by a pissed-off piranha. Molly is going to be spitting out your bones for weeks to come.”
“Thanks for the support,” Devil growled as Grant headed for the door. With a best friend like Grant, Devil realized he couldn’t afford to make any more enemies.
Chapter Ten
Molly Ramsey had never been so happy to pull into the tiny driveway of her Druid Hills condominium in all her life. Throwing the gear shift of her brother’s black Escalade into park, she expelled a long breath as she took a moment to just stare at her welcoming red front door.
The tiny place in front of her wasn’t much, but it was home. Home meant safety… security … and most importantly, serenity. Maybe once she was behind that closed front door, she could begin to make sense out of everything that had happened in the last few hours.
She doubted it, but a girl had to hope.
Shoving open the SUV’s door, she took a moment to lock the vehicle before trudging up her cobblestone sidewalk. Opening her door, she inhaled deeply.
“Coco! Chanel!” she called out to her two precocious pets. “Mommy’s home!”
Excited yaps greeted her as her two-year-old Pekingese scampered at breakneck speed into the living room from the back of the condo. Bending, she scooped one of her two babies into her arms. “Well, hello, Chanel.” She giggled as the tiny caramel colored dog licked her face. “How was your day, baby? I hope it was better than mine because Momma’s day just sucked!”
The happy dog licked her cheek in reply. “Okay, where’s your arch nemesis, Chanel? Where’s Coco? You didn’t try to eat her, did you?” she asked the excited pup in her arms. It wouldn’t be the first time that Chanel had used Coco for a chew toy. Of course, Coco had attempted to use Chanel as a scratching post from time to time before she’d been declawed, so their continued survival was apparently not in question.
Yes, her fur babies were the animal equivalent to the Hatfields and McCoys, but she wouldn’t have it another way. They were both generally happy and supremely spoiled.
As if summoned by her question, a black-and-tan Siamese cat sauntered into the room and arched its back in greeting, hissing at Chanel in her arms. Coco didn’t particularly like being petted, but she detested watching Chanel get any affection. “Well, there’s my pretty Coco,” Molly crooned to the feline, stepping closer. “There’s Momma’s pretty girl.”
The cat merely sniffed disdainfully.
“Okay, down you go,” she told Chanel, putting the pooch back on the hardwood floor. “I know I’m later than usual, but it’s been a rather crappy day,” Molly explained to the animals as she kicked off her heels and walked into her kitchen. Grabbing a can of cat food and a packet of dog food, she dropped them on the counter before rooting in the cabinet above the dishwasher for their food bowls.
Locating them quickly, she pulled them down and spared a look to her expectant pals. It was as if they were waiting for her to spill her guts. “So, Devil…. You remember Devil, don’t you?” she asked them.
Coco hissed again and arched her back.
“Yeah, that’s how I feel about him most of the time, too,” Molly commiserated as Chanel ran between her legs, pawing her feet. “I’m hurrying, sweetie,” she told the dog when it yapped twice. The pooch couldn’t stand it when he had to wait for his dinner. “Anyway, he proposed today. Well, propose is a strong word,” she amended. “He announced that we were getting married today. Evidently, he wants to be your new daddy.”
Coco shrieked and stiffened. Chanel moaned and rolled over on his side.
The one thing her two faithful companions could agree on was their mutual intolerance of William ‘Devil’ Delancy. And as far as Molly was concerned, her babies were highly intelligent and understood everything she said.
Molly laughed. “Again, it’s like we share one mind, you guys, because that was my response, too. Except, I expressed my displeasure a little more violently,” she admitted, bending to slide the cat and dog dishes in front of her babies’ noses.
Molly petted Chanel’s head as the dog chowed down on his grub. Reaching out to slide her hand against Coco’s sleek fur, she merely smiled as the cat arched her back against her hand but barely batted an eyelash as she, too, continued eating. These animals were her two closest confidents, with the exception of her two gal pals of the homo sapien variety. “I’m not sure what I’m gonna do, sweeties,” she murmured to the animals while she stroked Coco’s head. “Hopefully, Viv and Sami can help me figure things out. They did a pretty good job of advising me when I met you guys. If not for them, you two would still be in those stupid kennels at the animal shelter.”
Chanel lifted her head from the bowl at the mention of Viv and Sami.
“That’s right, baby, the woman that named you is coming for a little visit.” Molly grinned. It had been her girlfriends’ idea a couple of years ago that she needed a distraction to get over her disastrous breakup with the college douchebag she’d been dating. After spending her entire four years at University with one man, suddenly being alone and single in Atlanta had nearly overwhelmed her. So, her duo of besties had made the unilateral decision to get her a companion.
A soft heart, Molly was no match for the sad faces in the animal shelter. Finding one friend had evolved into finding two friends pretty quickly.
Her friend Sami was actually the one that had bequeathed both animals with their names. A model by trade, Samantha Dixon had been a little put out by the fabulous designers at Coco Chanel at the time their trio had tripped into the animal shelter two years ago. She’d been slated to appear on the runway wearing the fabulous clothes of the fabled fashion maven, but the powers that be had yanked their contract from her at the last minute when they’d deemed the leggy blonde a little too voluptuous to appropriately model their fall line.
So, when the three friends had strolled by the Pekingese’s cage and Molly had instantly fallen in love, Sami had declared that the world’s ugliest dog could go by no other moniker than the name ‘Chanel’. Her other best friend, Viv, an attorney, had argued valiantly on the Peke’s behalf, but when Sami had softly crooned “Who’s a little furball, Chanel?” through the steel bars of the cage and the dog had lifted its ears in response, they all knew that the unfortunate name had been sealed. A few minutes later when Molly had spotted an abandoned brown and black Siamese cat staring at her with woeful eyes, the name ‘Coco’ had fallen easily into place.
Yeah, her peepettes had all done their best to put the fun in dysfunctional, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Molly rose from the floor after offering each animal one last scratch behind the ears and glanced at her watch. Each of her gal pals had already texted her back after she’d sent out her brief 9-1-1 message from the parking garage of the hospital. Both would arrive any time now, and she wanted to be pleasantly buzzed before she explained the origins of her frantic text to them.
Grabbing her trusty bottle of vodka from the freezer, she didn’t even bother with a glass. Instead, she simply lifted the half-full container to her lips and took a healthy swig. Leaning against the counter, she heard the front door open and close and then the distinctive tap of stiletto heels against the hardwood floors of her condo.
“Alright, bitch! You’ve got five seconds to explain to me why the hell I got a 9-1-1 text during my bikini wax, and it better be good! Rudolfo is furious that I left, and my woo woo is seriously lopsided, all thanks to you! He may never give me another slot in his spa again, and I have a swimsuit shoot next week! You know that man considers his waxes to be works of an artistic mastermind! Not to mention the fact that my flower looks like half its petals fell off!” Samantha yelled from the empty living room
Smiling, Molly lifted the bottle to her lips again and ignored the searing burn the alcohol left in her throat as she swallowed.
Samantha had officially arrived on the scene with her trademark verve. The party was now truly un
derway.
Chapter Eleven
“You know, I might be worried about that if you let anybody other than Rudolfo near your secret garden, Sami,” Molly called back over her shoulder. “As it stands, nobody has tried to pluck your flower in…how long’s it been?” she asked as the stunning blonde sauntered into the kitchen. Even in a ratty sweatshirt and ripped jeans, the woman looked good.
Perching one hand on her shapely hip, Sami sniffed. “Only one year, three months, fourteen days, and…” She looked down at her slim gold watch. “Seventeen minutes.”
“It scares me that you know that,” Molly informed the other woman before reaching inside her refrigerator and plucking a bottle of Merlot from the bottom shelf. Tossing it to her friend, Molly grinned as Sami caught it mid-air. Not surprising, given the fact that before she’d found fame on the runway, her friend been a kickass bartender at Whiskey Blue. “The vodka is all mine tonight, but I’ll share my wine with you. I’d suggest a funnel because you’re gonna wanna be half-sloshed when I share my day with you.”
“You’re bogarting the Mr. Belvedere? This must be bad,” Sami conceded, turning to grab a wine glass from one of the cabinets above the stove. “And by the way,” she continued, setting her glass on the counter and tipping the bottle over it to pour a liberal splash, “It’s been longer for you than it has been for me since somebody took a tour of the garden, sister. Don’t throw stones at me, or I’m gonna lob a boulder at your head.”
“Somebody already beat you to the rock, Sami. Believe me,” Molly replied, taking another hit from the vodka. “And he throws a lot harder than you do.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. I’m passing up a perfectly beautiful butterfly vajazzle in order to rush to your side,” Sami deadpanned, turning bright jade eyes on Molly expectantly.
“You were actually gonna do that?” Molly crinkled her nose at the thought. Having jewelry installed south of her equator was not her idea of a fun Friday night.
“I like to keep things interesting. Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, sweetie. Our woo woos aren’t getting any younger.” Sami shrugged. “Besides, you never know when you might meet Mr. Right and wanna impress him,” she reminded Molly lightly.
“Or plow smack dab into Mr. Completely Wrong,” Molly mumbled, passing Sami as she trudged back into the living room with her bottle in hand. “Where the hell is Viv? I only wanna tell this story once.”
Watching as Molly lifted the vodka to her lips again, Sami shook her head as she followed the other woman. Dropping her black clutch on the coffee table, she took a sip of the sweet Merlot as she got comfortable on the couch. “I talked to Vivian on the way over here. She just won some big case for her firm and was out celebrating with her legal cronies. She’ll be here in a minute.”
“I completely forgot!” Molly smacked the heel of her hand against her forehead. “This was her first big win,” she groaned as she flopped back against the sofa cushions. “I didn’t even call and congratulate her.”
“It’s okay. I sent flowers and signed both our names,” Sami replied easily, propping her long legs on Molly’s coffee table. “No big deal.”
Molly beamed at her friend. Sami liked people to think she was a cool ticket, but beneath the tough exterior was a heart of gold. “You’re a good friend, Samantha.”
“Hmmmfff, don’t spread that around,” Sami ordered with a mock glare while she took a sip from her wine glass. “I’ve got enough friends. I’m not looking for more.”
Molly could empathize. Because she was gorgeous, men and women alike were attracted to Sami like moths to a flame. Few were interested in anything more than what they could see on the outside. Most just wanted to be seen with the beautiful woman. Those vain fools didn’t have the slightest interest in getting to know the woman beneath the glossy surface, and she knew that hurt Sami more than she’d ever admit aloud – even to her best friends in the world.
“You and Vivian keep me plenty busy, Mols,” Sami continued. “Hence, my half naked v-jay jay,” she said, gesturing airily toward her crotch.
“Sorry ‘bout that, but you don’t wanna miss what I’ve got to share. Trust me when I tell you that you’ll want the dirt,” Molly promised the other woman as the front door opened again.
“Dirt?” Vivian Miller questioned as she kicked the door closed with her spiky heel. “Did I hear that there’s the promise of dirt on the horizon?” she asked, blowing her hair back from her face as she dumped her purse and briefcase on the floor beside the door.
Crossing the room to the new arrival, Molly hugged the slender brunette tightly. “Hey, lady! Congrats on your big win today! At this rate, they’ll be making you a partner in no time.”
“Oh, please,” Vivian replied with a smile, tucking the short hair of her bob behind her ears, “It was one case, ladies.”
“Yeah, your first case,” Sami pointed out, lifting her wine glass in a silent toast to the other woman. “And you nailed it.”
“Thanks, guys.” Vivian grinned, sliding off her fitted suit jacket and draping it over the back of the sofa. Unbuttoning the first few buttons of her white silk blouse, she leaned toward Sami to steal her glass. “Mmmm, merlot,” she groaned after she took a sip.
“I’ll go grab you a glass,” Molly offered, already on her way back to the kitchen.
“Grab the bottle,” Sami corrected. “From what she’s told me, I think we’re all gonna need to be buzzed for this,” she told Vivian with a knowing look. “Here’s a helpful heads up, though! She’s refusing to share her vodka and that hasn’t happened since we caught He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named fucking that waitress in Molly’s bed two years ago.”
Viv shuddered. “Ugh, now that was a long night.” Frowning when Molly disappeared from her sight, Vivian mouthed, “What’s going on?” as she curled into one of the deep recliners in the living room.
Sami shrugged and shook her head as Molly returned with another glass and the bottle of wine in her hands.
Turning her gaze to Molly as she poured the wine into the stemmed glass, Vivian shifted in her chair. “Okay, spill it, Mols,” she demanded, watching the other woman’s face. “You didn’t drag us over here just to drink cheap wine and dish about our day. What’s going on?”
Belting back another shot of vodka, Molly blinked as the hard liquor blazed a fiery trail down her throat. It was liquid courage, but at this point, Molly would settle for what she could get. “Well, girls, I think you might be looking at the future Mrs. William Delancy. If we don’t do something fast, I think I’ve been doomed to become the Devil’s bride.”
Chapter Twelve
Fifteen minutes later, the whole sordid mess had been spilled between them and both her friends stared at Molly with a mixture of horror, amusement and curiosity. “Well, say something!” Molly yelled when neither of them uttered a word. “You’re supposed to be my sounding board, ladies!”
“You’re engaged,” Sami managed to choke.
“To the Devil,” Viv sputtered.
“It could be worse, right?” Molly questioned, looking from one woman to the other and back again. “I mean, he’s not so awful, is he?”
“He’s the Devil,” Vivian breathed, her brown eyes huge on her pixie face.
“That’s not helpful, Viv,” Molly huffed, holding her bottle tucked tightly between her breasts as she sat cross-legged on the middle of her couch. “His nickname is Devil. He’s not really Satan incarnate.”
“I’m gonna need a hit off that vodka bottle before we go any further,” Sami warned, holding out her hand and wriggling her fingers.
“You’ll have to wrestle it from my cold, dead hands,” Molly replied, tightening her grip on the mostly-gone liquor.
“You hold her down and I’ll pry it out of her hand,” Vivian told Sami, only half joking as she warily eyed Molly.
Snorting, Sami ran a hand through her naturally wavy locks. “Well, let’s look on the bright side. At least he’s got the whole eye candy thing going
on for him. You may have to look into the face of evil every morning across the breakfast table, but the view will be pretty.”
“What am I going to do?” Molly groaned, leaning her head back against the cushion as the throbbing in her head increased.
Shaking off her shock, Viv straightened in her chair. “Well, first off, don’t panic. Devil can’t actually make you marry him.”
“No, but he can coerce the hell out of her,” Sami argued, frowning at Vivian. “I mean, you heard her, Viv. He’s holding his dying grandmother over her head, for crying out loud.”
“Well, that could be seen as kind of touching. He loves his Nana so much that he’d do anything to make her happy. I think that might actually add to his character. It’s sweet.”
“Are you deluded?” Sami retorted, frowning at Viv. “It’s creepy as hell. Besides, he’s got an entire harem that follows him around, salivating at his heels. Why can’t he ride off into the sunset with one of them and make his Nana’s day? Why does it have to be Molly?”
“He’s known her forever, remember?” Viv reminded Sami with a roll of her eyes. “They’ve got history.”
“Yeah, one where recently he’s made her life a living hell with his bevy of beauties,” Sami returned bitterly. “Really, what kind of guy expects his personal assistant to break up with his girlfriends?”
“In fairness, I don’t actually break up with them so much as run interference when they come banging on his door again,” Molly interjected, lifting her head for a second.
“Still,” Sami grumbled, shaking her head, “It’s twisted. He’s twisted. Hence, calling him the Devil.”
Turning to face her friend, Vivian asked gently. “What do you want to do, Molly?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” Molly shook her head unhappily, letting out a long sigh. “Part of me wants to flip him the bird and tell him where to put his idea of matrimonial bliss. But, another part...”
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