Revenge Games (Revenge Games Duet Book 1)

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Revenge Games (Revenge Games Duet Book 1) Page 43

by Sky Corgan


  I marveled at the burgundy satin one-shoulder mermaid dress that Melinda was wearing, and then internally grumbled at Dominick for not letting me get the red and white one I had been considering. Melinda looked absolutely exquisite, her generous breasts pushed up high, her gorgeous blonde hair pulled back slightly so that ringlets cascaded down her back. The guys couldn't keep their eyes off of her, and it made jealousy rage through me, though I kept it at bay. I was the princess to her queen, out-shined in my girlish dress by her maturity.

  All thoughts of comparison faded away when we went upstairs, and Dominick abandoned me to socialize. The conference room that Smart Romance Press had rented was bustling with people. It felt like we had only been inside for a few minutes before Dominick was lost to the crowd. I was left with Melinda and Ray, who were busy in their own rights, though not so much as Dominick. Excitement melted into nervousness dripping into anxiety. I found a quiet corner and tried to blend into the wall, having never felt more out of place in my entire life. Everything in me wanted to go back to the room and just wait the night out, but I knew that Dominick was only here because of me. He would expect me to stick around.

  After about an hour, things started to die down a bit. Dominick was still swamped with fans and business associates, but the crowd around Melinda and Ray had dispersed, so I headed over to them to reintegrate myself into the action.

  “That's a lovely dress,” Melinda commented. “I forgot to tell you when we were up in the room.”

  “Not as pretty as yours,” I replied.

  “I think it is.”

  “That's sweet of you to say. I had wanted to pick one out similar to yours, except for it was sleeveless and embroidered. It was a gorgeous dress, but Dominick was worried it would be too much for the party.”

  “He didn't want you to outshine him. He can be such a diva sometimes,” she joked.

  “Well, I think you're both lovely,” Ray said, giving us a wink that sent chills down my spine.

  “Oh look, there's Gina Mauck. I best go say hello.” Melinda excused herself, leaving me alone with Ray.

  He took a step closer to me, drinking a sip of champagne while he watched Melinda start talking to the other woman. “Quite a party, don't you think?”

  “It's something else.”

  “Not what you're used to?”

  “Of course not. I've never been to anything like this in all my life.”

  “Of course not,” he said, giving the champagne a fake smile. “You know, I never thanked you for convincing him to come.”

  “You never had the chance.”

  “Well, thank you. At least, it's one thing you've done right.”

  My stomach flopped at his words. There was some hidden meaning behind them, I could tell by his tone—something unpleasant.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You're ruining his career, you know.”

  “I wouldn't be able to tell by all the people around,” my voice stiffened.

  “You wouldn't. You don't know what goes on inside this business. And it's not his fans whom you're messing things up for him with, not yet at least.”

  I sighed, turning toward him, my mood completely ruined. “Speak plainly.”

  “Melinda told me he's been falling behind on his deadlines since the two of you got together. You're a distraction to him.”

  “We fixed that already.”

  “Have you? I hear he's behind again. How long before he misses a deadline.”

  “How do you know this is even my fault?” I quirked an eyebrow.

  “I've known Dominick for a very long time. I know how he is, always very business focused. It hasn't been like that since you came along. Besides, his relationship with you is scandalous. Not healthy. You're too young for him, and your living situation only makes it look like you're taking advantage of him. I'm sure that's not the case, and I'm sure that you do love him, but you should think about him, think about what you mean for his future. That's all I'm saying.”

  Melinda returned to us, and Ray acted like the awkward conversation had never taken place. The guy hated me, I decided. Even after I had helped him, he still hated me. Was this how he showed gratitude, by trying to push me away from Dominick, or did he really have Dominick's best interests at heart? He was Dominick's publicist, after all.

  For the rest of the night, my mood was irreparable. Even though Melinda did her best to keep me company, my mind continued to return to the things Ray had said, and I found myself fighting back tears, wondering if I really was ruining Dominick's life. Did the powers that be not want us together? It seemed like every time things were going well, something else would swoop in to try to tear us apart. Maybe he would be better off without me.

  Each minute that passed brought me closer to crumbling, and eventually I submitted defeat and decided to go back to the room. Dominick was busy having a conversation with three different women at once, so I told Melinda to inform him that I had gotten too tired to stick around. She hugged me and nodded, and I glanced at Ray, who only looked upon me with cruel eyes, before I took my leave, bursting into tears the second that I stepped into the elevator. What a horrible night.

  My mind was a mess of confusion, my body wrecked with exhaustion. By the time I peeled the dress off and crawled into bed, I was ready to cry myself to sleep. It didn't take long, maybe a few minutes before I drifted off, only to be woken up hours later by Dominick climbing into bed beside me. He wrapped his arms around me, drawing me close and sighing contently before kissing me on the back of the head and resting for sleep. I loved being in his arms. I wanted to be held tighter, for him to stroke my hair and tell me everything would be alright, but I knew that our flight was leaving early in the morning, and he needed his sleep.

  The next morning, we woke up bright and early, packed our belongings, and headed back to Arizona. I was grumpy for most of the day, hating Ray for planting negative thoughts in my head. Still, I could see the truth behind his words. Even with Dominick's new extended contract, he wasn't getting his work done. The only possible reason was my presence. He had never had these issues before I came into his life. Maybe I should have moved in with Tammy after all.

  As days passed, Dominick continued to be distracted. It really made me think about our schedules and what I could be doing to throw him off. Was eating together taking away from his writing? Should we be spending less time with each other in the afternoons? Maybe if I wasn't around as much, he'd get more done.

  I decided to discretely remove myself from the equation by spending less time around the house. Instead of going straight home after school, I started hanging out with Tammy a lot. Dominick didn't seem to mind that. In fact, he thought it was great that I was giving her more of what she had hoped for when they decided to move to Arizona. I also began going out with Victor more on the weekends, which Dominick didn't like so much, though his deadline kept him from complaining about it. My goal was to make myself more of a scarcity than a distraction, but in the process, I didn't realize I was actually driving him away.

  Chapter 7

  Once I got my license, I practically stopped spending my free time at home. It seemed like on the days that I was away, Dominick got more work done, so I thought it was good for me to be gone as much as possible.

  Months passed with our new routine, and finally one night, I got tired of going out and decided to stay in. Dominick wouldn't have anything to do with me though. I tried to coax him out of his office by making him a special dinner, but he told me he'd rather eat in his office. That was the first big sign that something was wrong. Dominick never ate in his office except during the time when Melinda had stayed with us. Even when he was in a piss-poor mood, he'd at least come out and share his mealtime with me.

  “Are you alright?” I asked when he came to get his plate.

  “I'm fine,” he grumbled.

  “How's work going?”

  “Fine.”

  And that was all he said before disappearing
into his office. Confused, I took my plate to the living room to eat in front of the television. It felt weird sitting there, but then again, just eating at home felt strange. During the past few months, I ate most of my meals at Tammy's house. Dominick had been living off of the frozen dinners I had made for him when I thought I was moving.

  When I realized he wasn't going to come out of his office for the rest of the night, boredom got the best of me, and I ended up calling Victor to see if he wanted to do something. It was a Saturday night, and I didn't want to waste it by staying at home if Dominick didn't want to hang out.

  Victor was more than happy to have me over. He told me that his cousin had bought him a bottle of tequila for his birthday, and he had been looking for a good opportunity to bust it open.

  “No time like the present,” I joked with him over the phone.

  “Well then get over here, and we'll celebrate the present with my present.”

  When I told Dominick that I was leaving, he simply grunted in reply.

  This wasn't the first time I had gone to Victor's apartment. The first time, I had been really nervous about going there, scared that he would hit on me, that I was putting myself in an awkward position. But Victor had been the perfect gentleman, and in time, I was at ease with the thought of being alone with him in his apartment. For as much as he hit on me when we were at school, he seemed a lot more timid when in his own space, a space that was every bit as barren and immaculate as Dominick's condo.

  For men, they were both weird, but I thought Victor was even stranger. You'd think that a college guy, a bachelor at that, would live in the typical bachelor pad with posters all over the walls and a heaping pile of dishes in the sink. Victor was a neat freak to the tenth degree though. Everything had its place in his apartment, and everything was in its place. The first time I saw it, I thought I had just gotten lucky. Maybe he had cleaned before I showed up. But I noticed that every time I came over, it was exactly the same, spotless and perfect. It kind of freaked me out.

  “What's the vintage?” I asked teasingly as he led me into the kitchen. He looked absolutely delicious in a pair of loose fitting jeans and an argyle sweater. The attraction was definitely still there, but neither one of us would act on it. He knew where I stood with Dominick, and I wasn't about to risk screwing things up for a night of hot passionate sex with someone my own age, though it did sound incredibly appealing, especially since Dominick had been neglecting his sexual duties as my boyfriend.

  “Don Julio 1942.”

  “Never heard of it.” I looked at the long thin bottle. It was like no other bottle of tequila I had ever seen.

  “It's expensive.”

  “What's expensive?”

  “Over $100.”

  “I'll never understand you rich people.”

  “Us rich people?” he laughed.

  “I swear, if Dominick didn't hate you so much, you'd probably get along swimmingly.”

  “He hates me, huh? I'm hurt.” Victor leaned back against the kitchen counter, giving me the sexiest pout I had ever seen. There was something about his blonde hair as it fell in front of his hazel eyes, the sophisticated look his glasses gave him, the fitted sweater he was wearing. I just hoped the alcohol didn't amplify my attraction to him.

  “Well, he doesn't really hate you. He just thinks you're . . .”

  “I'm what?”

  “That you like me.” I blushed when I said it.

  “Well, I do like you. You're a good friend.”

  My heart skipped a beat until he said the good friend part. Then it skidded to a halt of disappointment. Of course, he would err away from saying what he really thought. He didn't want to make me feel uncomfortable.

  “Anyway, are we going to bust into this bad boy or are we just going to stare at it?” I quickly changed the subject.

  “Well.” He eyed me playfully. “I'm only popping the top if you promise to drink the whole thing with me.”

  “We can't drink all of that. It would kill us.”

  “Alright. You have to match me shot for shot then.”

  “I'm not even sure I'll be able to do that.”

  “You at least have to promise to try.”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Well, I didn't come all the way over here for nothing, now did I.”

  His smirk brightened up the room. “I suppose not. To the dining room.” Victor rummaged through one of the cabinets for two shot glasses, then he grabbed the bottle, and we went into the dining room to sit at his oval dining room table. There was a vase with fresh-cut lilies set up in the middle of it, which he quickly moved aside so that we wouldn't have to look around it to see each other.

  “You should have gone to school to be an interior designer,” I told him as I looked at the gorgeous white blooms that sprung up from the vase.

  “My mother's handiwork,” he commented.

  “You keep this place so clean though. It's ridiculous.”

  “Cleanliness is next to Godliness. I suppose things might get a bit messy tonight though,” there was a darkness to his words that I couldn't place, but I decided to ignore it as I watched him twist the top off the bottle.

  “We should play a game while we drink,” I suggested.

  “That would defeat the purpose of matching each other shot for shot,” Victor said as he poured two equal shots and set them between us.

  “It would be more fun though. I like drinking games.”

  “They're kind of childish.”

  I cowered internally, feeling like an idiot for even suggesting it. He must have seen my sudden shift in mood, because he paused and said, “What do you want to play?”

  “We don't have to.”

  “You're right. It would make things more interesting.”

  “We could play Truth or Dare.”

  “No. I hate Truth or Dare. I'd suggest Quarters, but I don't want to mess up the table.”

  “Well you're just no fun,” I huffed playfully.

  “What's so wrong with just talking?”

  “Because we talk all the time.”

  “But we don't drink all the time.”

  “No, we don't.”

  “So, are we going to take these, or are they just going to sit here all night?” He gestured to the two shots.

  “Well, we can't just let them sit there. That's not why I'm here, right.” I took one in hand, holding it up and smelling the pungent scent of strong alcohol. Victor did the same, wrinkling his nose.

  “This is supposed to taste really good,” he commented.

  “It sure doesn't smell like it.”

  “On three. One. Two. Three.”

  The tequila seared the back of my throat, and it took everything in me not to gag.

  “Chaser,” I said quickly, and Victor was instantly on his feet, rushing to the kitchen to get us something to wash the alcohol down with. He came back with two tall glasses of cranberry juice, which I found almost as unappealing as the alcohol. Still, I drank it, sighing internally as it cooled the burning at the back of my throat and helped balance out the harshness with tart sweetness.

  “That was smooth,” he said when he slid back into his seat.

  “Really? I couldn't tell.”

  “Compared to most tequila.”

  “Not smooth enough if you needed a chaser too.”

  “I don't usually take shots. This is a special occasion.”

  “What occasion is that?” I smirked.

  “My post-birthday party.”

  “Ah. Happy post-birthday then,” I told him as I grabbed the bottle and poured us two more shots.

  “You ready to go again?”

  “Might as well. A toast to your birthday, which I'm sorry that I missed.”

  We toasted to Victor's belated birthday and took down two more shots. The alcohol was every bit as unpleasant as it had been the first time, filling my stomach with a familiar warmth that was rapidly spreading to the rest of my body. Already, my mind was feeling a bit fuzzy and h
appy.

  “So, how are things with Dominick?” Victor asked as he refilled our shot glasses.

  “They've been better,” I sighed, gripping the glass when he slid it in front of me.

  “More trouble in paradise? When is there not?”

  “I'm starting to wonder that myself. It's really beginning to feel like the powers that be don't want us together.”

  “Maybe they don't. It's a strange relationship, to be honest.”

  “It is kind of strange, but I'm not unhappy.”

  “You certainly sound unhappy.”

  “That's not really what I meant. Things with Dominick are fine, sorta. It's just everyone else that doesn't want us to be together. Melinda told me I was messing up Dominick's work, and I suppose she's right, because as soon as she stepped in and took control of our relationship, everything was fixed again. Then his publicist came up to me at that party and told me I was messing him up again, and it seems like he was right too. As soon as I started staying away from the house, Dominick got back on track. You think we're horrible together. I'm sure my sister wouldn't approve of our relationship either. It feels like the world is out to get us.”

  “Then perhaps you should let the world have its way. When so many things are against two people being together, it usually means something.”

  “That doesn't make sense though,” I brooded, taking another shot without invitation and hissing as it burned my throat. Victor followed suit, making a face at me as if he was impressed at my taking the initiative. Then he filled our glasses again.

  “What about it doesn't make sense?” he asked.

  “All the romance novels and movies are about beating the odds. Isn't that what romance is about?”

  “That's what fictional romance is about. In real life, it doesn't work that way.”

  “I suppose. I just don't understand why everyone is so hellbent on breaking us up.”

  “Well, look at the two of you from a distance. I mean, completely take your personal feelings out of the equation. Forget all you know about why the two of you are actually together. Can you do that?” He didn't wait for me to respond. “He's how old, thirty-one now?”

 

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