Pretty Bitches (3 page)

I fielded five calls before four fifteen and brokered five new full-page ads for the edition. Like clockwork, Lila sauntered in just before five o’clock.

I was going to kick Melanie in her uptight ass as soon as I stood from this chair.

Just as she began to clear her throat I met her gaze with a murderous look. She actually flinched and took a step back.

“Whoa. I’ve only seen that look once before and he spent time in the OR having his nuts stitched from your heel.”

“Not today, Lil.” I said through clenched teeth.

She began to protest but formed a thin line with her lips once she saw the fury in my eyes. She turned on her heel and strolled from the room slamming the door as she left.

The day was shot. I walked across the room and fisted the crystal decanter pouring a hearty portion. The familiar burn eased down my throat and settled into my stomach. I stood at the window watching the tiny figures dance across the sidewalk below.

My thoughts drifted back to the gorgeous stranger from the night before. Now that I had a handle on my emotions—thanks to the Scottish whisky—I was able to appreciate the game he played. I had hardly noticed his prepared delivery until I had time to process the events during my commute this morning.

He clearly knew me, had done his research and played his hand with precision. I had to hand it to him; he had balls. Anyone that knows me or even knows of me would never have the nerve to use my fondness of Glenlivet and Scotland.

The only man that I’ve ever loved was a Native and he taught me everything I know. He turned me into the strong woman that I am today. My father was a legend in my eyes and not one single male or female has ever measured up in my eyes.

I’d flown out three years ago after learning he had medical tests done and repeatedly dodged my calls. I got eight weeks with him before the cancer took him away. I nearly cracked after he passed. My heart was broken and my spirit marred. He was the single light in my life and with him gone I was in total darkness.

He had a love of Glenlivet and we would sit in his garden in the evenings enjoying a bottle and telling whose-is-bigger stories. So, anyone that made use of that knowledge and tried to gain access to me in that fashion is automatically blacklisted and stopped at the door.

I finished another glass as I typed away on my computer. When the darkness fell I stretched my legs and started for my jacket. Melanie had left hours before and the office was eerily quiet. I made my way out the front door greeted by a smiling Elliott.

I was too sauced to care and just folded into the seat. I bypassed the watering holes and made a beeline for my house. I was in no mood to play nice or even play. I just wanted to be alone.

When something had me thinking about dad I usually retreated inside my shell and came apart. Truthfully, the reason I’d become so bitter and casual with my relationships was because it numbed the pain and loneliness. I could distract myself and forget, just for a time, when I used them and abused them.

Dad would be furious at my reckless behavior over the past three years but I honestly was still a bit pissed at him for leaving me. I’d even been close to marriage once but that was before he died and my entire world was tilted on its axis. I barely made it up the stairs before the tears began to fall at an alarming rate.

It’d been three years since I shed a single tear and this was a full-blown attack.

I made it to the bed and collapsed letting a long slow ache work its way to the surface. At some point I fell asleep and when the alarm woke me hours later I opened my eyes and the first tear hit my pillow before I could even make my way from the bed.

I was in no shape to face people today so I called Melanie and had all my calls forwarded home. I rarely worked from my home office—only when I was on deaths doorstep but today felt like one of those days.

I buried myself in emails and proofs until I raised my head and realized it was four o’clock in the afternoon. I pulled off my glasses and pinched the bridge of my nose letting out a long sigh.

I had to get my shit together.

Marriett brought my daily tray of Glenlivet at five o’clock. It didn’t matter where I was in the world, at five o’clock everyday I had a glass in my hand and a toast to him in my heart.

Everyday.

I slumped back in my chair and enjoyed the first burn down my throat as I gazed out the window watching the jam of traffic blocking the street. Days like today I afforded myself the time to people watch and wonder if their lives were as fucked up as mine.

I had amusing stories I would tell myself as individuals passed by that made me feel just a little less guilty about how I’d chosen to deal with mine. My therapist had stopped trying to figure me out years ago. I was a hopeless case of a fucked up mind. The sheer determination I had convoluted any rational thought that passed through my head.

I was incapable of feeling.

Marriett deduced that today was a bit tougher than most days inside my head and had the forethought to leave the decanter resting on my desk. That thought actually had me smiling. As shitty as I make the lives of the people I surround myself with they were still loyal. That was one redeeming quality I had—I could spot a leach and a nugget of gold that stood out in a crowd.

I stayed secluded inside my room the rest of the evening. The familiar feeling of self-loathing became stifling. Sure, people saw me as a bitch of steel and that was exactly what I fronted. I needed that wall of security because just behind it was this fragile person that was in danger of falling the fuck apart any second.

My cell buzzed on the table: Lila.

I groaned and slid the lock.

“Where were you today, bitch? I’m stuck at Pressed with Anthony and he won’t shut the fuck up about you. I’m more than irritated that even while absent you garner all the fucking attention. Bitch.”

That actually conjured a small giggle.

“Of course he’s talking about me. Probably dreaming about me, too.”

Two seconds later. “Fuck you.”

I threw the phone on the pillow and grabbed the remote. My dad had made me a mix CD of his favorite Scottish bands featuring bagpipes. It was my go to music and I rested my head against the headboard and hummed along to the notes.

When my alarm caused my eyes to fly open I immediately jumped from the bed. That feeling of deadlines and disasters play before my eyes, as usual. I yanked a sassy number from my plaid collection and turned on the shower.

Today would be a better day—I chanted to myself.

I was walking out the door forty-five minutes later to be greeted by a bitchy Elliott.

Score.

That made me smile already. The commute was short and garnered no explicit remarks from my lips. Ed was joyed to see me and I felt likewise with my returning smile.

I startled Melanie when I stopped at her desk and made eye contact to hear my daily events. Once I was in my office facing my computer I was on autopilot. Everything had an ebb and flow. The emails were cranking out, the fires were being doused with water and the potential business was mine for the taking.

All in all, a good fucking day.

When four thirty rolled around and Lila made no appearance I almost felt a tinge of remorse for my comment the previous night.

Almost.

I grabbed my coat and made my way down to the twenty-second floor. She was just getting to her feet when I barged into her office. She gave me an eat shit look and tried to shoulder past me. But, I wasn’t having that today. I needed a distraction and she was going to help me get one.

“Just where do you think you are going?” I asked, amused.

She rolled her eyes and leveled them to my gaze. “You’re a cunt and I have no time for you.”

She turned but I grabbed her arm.

“Put on your big girl panties and grow the fuck up.” She dramatically rolled her eyes. “Now, where are you going? I need a distraction.” I finished with a dazzling display of expensive teeth.

She took a moment to stab me with her eyes. “Fine. I’m going to LaRouche.” She took a moment to scan me from tip to tail. “We may need to make a stop at Neiman because I hardly believe you will get laid in that catholic school girl plaid.”

I laughed out loud. I could always depend on her to lighten my spirits.

By the time we were into our second drink I’d dodged three bullets from trolling sharks. Once my vision was blurred and my lips numb I conceded that tonight was going to be a loner.

I motioned Ralphe at the bar and closed my tab. Lila had sequestered a doctor in the corner booth and I was tired of the scene so I grabbed my clutch and slid from the smooth Napa leather booth.

I took a moment to steady my al
cohol-induced sea legs and began my onward motion of one foot in front of the other. Just as I rounded the last booth before the door a strong hand gripped my upper arm causing me to freeze and turn in that direction.

He was more glorious than he had been two nights ago. His chestnut hair had honest to God sparkles in it and his eyes were dancing with wickedness. I took a fleeting moment to scan his uber perfect body before I affixed the scowl to my face.

He snickered. “Hello to you, too, Glenlivet.”

My anger was instant. “Fuck off.”

His returned expression was that of shock. He was genuinely taken aback.

After a stutter he managed, “I’m sorry?”

I narrowed my eyes. “You heard me, fuck off and find some other wounded chick to use your game on.” I could feel the traitorous tears coming. I yanked my arm from his grip and headed for the door.

He caught me easily. “Hey, look, I’m sorry if I’ve offended you somehow...”

I don’t know if it was the sincere look in his eyes or the familiar sound of his accent but my shell cracked and I dejectedly allowed the first public tear to roll down my cheek. His startled expression gave me the fuel to power my legs through the door and basically sprint to my car.

Just as we were pulling away I saw his fleeting image—arms outstretched pleading—as I turned and let the rest of the tears follow.

What the fuck is happening to me? I couldn’t gather a single plausible explanation. My brain was firing away but coming up empty. This man had the ability to render me completely useless and anyone that had that power over me needed to be exterminated. I couldn’t allow myself another interaction with him. It was detrimental to my sanity and needed to be avoided at all costs.

The remainder of the week was spent brooding and obsessively working. I was avidly aware that the sheer amount of work I’d accomplished was mind numbing. I was a machine and that was usually the case when my brain wanted a break to process something I wasn’t prepared to face.

By the time the weekend rolled around I was just about packed for my Anchorage excursion. I was looking forward to a bit of downtime, actually. To get away from this contrived city would do me some good. I yanked the zipper on my monogrammed bag and placed it atop my trunk.

It was just about five o’clock and I meandered over to the wet bar grabbing my usual crystal glass and tipping the decanter a cool eighty degrees watching the amber liquid melt into my glass. I sipped while I carried it to the bathroom and finished packing my products.

Sleep came easy thanks to the whisky. The alarm buzzed at six-twenty and I groaned as I slipped the eye mask down and sauntered into the bathroom. Once I was showered and dressed I began to feel giddy about my trip. I called Elliott up to help with the bags. Within twenty minutes we were heading to the airport.