The Punk and the Plaything (When Rivals Play Book 3)

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The Punk and the Plaything (When Rivals Play Book 3) Page 8

by B. B. Reid


  “I beg to fucking differ. I’d never let Four keep secrets from you.”

  The muscle in his jaw ticked as he looked away. As much as he wanted to argue, I knew he couldn’t. There wasn’t a damn thing about Four that Ever would want to be kept from him. For any reason.

  I’d done my own digging, but nothing surfaced except some sold-off assets. It wasn’t unusual to reallocate your funds. I just needed to track down where the hell the money had gone. I’d long ago dismissed the idea that the Montgomery’s were bankrupt, but the thought was always there. If they were broke, then what role did Ever play in all of this? Surely, he didn’t actually intend to marry her. While that would fix all the Montgomerys’ problems, it would ruin our relationship for good after I fucked his wife on their wedding night.

  Before my thoughts could run even wilder, the vision that pushed through the curtains stole my attention. Four looked shy and uncertain as she waited for Ever to notice her. Clearing my throat, I nodded, prompting Ever to spin around. I didn’t need to see his face to know he was captivated. What red-blooded male wouldn’t be? Four wasn’t just beautiful; she was breathtaking.

  Her gaze found mine, and I gave her a nod of approval, but her attention had already turned back to Ever. Subtly, I nudged him with my elbow.

  Say something, jackass.

  “Do you like it?” she asked when he couldn’t seem to find the words.

  “I want to tear it off you.” Ever’s voice was thick, husky, but Four still somehow misinterpreted his meaning.

  “I guess that’s a no,” she mumbled, looking ready to run for the safety of the curtain. It was hard to believe that she was no longer a virgin. Perhaps she was reluctant to believe him since she still hid in his shadow while he paraded around town with my girl on his arm.

  Ever was up and on the platform before Four could flee. “It’s a goddamn yes, princess.” Lifting her chin, he kissed her lips. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

  As I rolled my eyes, my gaze landed on a red number. The gold and pearl beading twinkled under the bright spotlight while the low-cut bodice and short skirt promised to put on a show. The sheer, red overlaying skirt was dramatically full and overly long, promising to trail the ground with each step. I knew in that instant that I wouldn’t be going to prom solo.

  “Well?” Bechette inquired as she stepped into the room. “Will it do or not?”

  “Oh, it will do,” Ever drawled.

  “I’m impressed,” I chimed in while Bechette and Four exchanged knowing smiles. “She almost looks like a girl.” Ever drew Four to his body protectively when she looked ready to give me a piece of her mind. I dismissed them both and regarded the dressmaker. “Ms. Martin. I’d like to purchase one of your dresses for my date.”

  “Date?” Four echoed. “You have a date? Who is this girl? I must warn her.”

  “None of your business.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bechette said before Four could interrogate me further, “but I work by appointment only, and I’m afraid I’ve been booked for months.”

  “Then how were you able to see us today?” Four questioned with a frown. “I didn’t have an appointment.”

  “And I’m certain you did.”

  I wonder if Four knew there were stars in her eyes when she gazed up at Ever. “You made the appointment?” When Ever nodded, she added, “When?”

  “Three months ago.”

  My gaze narrowed, and I had the urge to pummel Ever’s face until he looked like a deflated beach ball. The intervention had only been a month ago. He’d known all along that he was taking Four. So where the fuck did that leave Bee?

  “But you hadn’t asked me to go.”

  “I didn’t know I needed to.”

  “This is all disgustingly sweet,” I cut in while trying not to gag. It was getting to be a chore hanging around the two love birds. “But I’m trying to make a transaction here.” I turned to Bechette, who still had her nose in the air. “I don’t need an appointment. I need that dress.” I pointed to the red gown on display.

  “Excuse me?” The dressmaker yelped. “Do you know how much that dress will cost?”

  “I didn’t ask for the price.” It was clear she didn’t know who the fuck I was. I could buy her and every gown in this goddamn shop without even nicking my pockets.

  “Alterations will need to be made for a proper fit, and as I said, I’m booked.”

  “I already know her measurements.”

  “You will have to be absolutely sure, young man, or my beautiful design will be wasted.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “How?” Four blurted.

  I sighed. I never realized before how goddamn nosy she was. “That’s for me to know,” I taunted after finally meeting her baffled gaze. My fingers curled around Bechette’s elbow, and I pulled her aside, away from Four and Ever’s prying ears. I waited while she donned a pair of reading glasses and pulled a notepad and pen from the pocket of her apron before reciting the information she needed.

  “5 Round Hill Lane.”

  She peered at me over her thin frames. “Young man, that is an address. I need her waist, hips, and bust size.”

  “She’s got perky B cups, a tiny waist that fits perfectly in my hands, and hips that are a little too narrow for all the babies she’s going to give me one day, but fuck, Ms. Martin, no one’s perfect.”

  Bechette flipped her notebook closed before pinning me with her glare. “As I already explained, young man, I’m booked and have no time to do a fitting.”

  “How much will it cost for you to make the time?”

  “Much more than your mommy and daddy give you in allowance, sweetie.”

  I didn’t say anything as I plucked the pen from her hand and wrote down a number. “You obviously don’t know who the fuck I am,” I teased when she gaped at the figure. “How soon can you get her fitted?”

  MY ENCOUNTER WITH JAMIE WAS still heavy on my mind three days later. I’d spent the rest of the school day bare-assed and tugging on the ends of my skirt thanks to him. A whisper of wind was all it would have taken to make that day infinitely worse.

  It was now Sunday morning. Mother’s Day, to be exact, and so far, my weekend had been blissful because it was Jamie-free. Usually, he’d find one way or another to establish his presence, often without even being present at all. It was like he never wanted me to forget the promise he made me nearly a year ago. He was back, and I was screwed.

  “Barbette, you’re slouching,” my mother observed, cutting into my private thoughts. It was a wonder I was able to still have them. One day, I’d be just another Melissa Montgomery—a modern-day, real-life Stepford wife. It was an inevitable future, wasn’t it? Hearing my mother’s veiled command, I straightened and found it impossible. I was so on edge that my spine might as well have been a steel rod. “Is something wrong?”

  Her tone was soft. Indulgent. Anyone might think she actually cared. The real concern, however, was that I’d embarrass my father. We were having breakfast with the Portlands at the Blackwood Manor, a private country club where only the haughtiest of rich assholes convened. It wasn’t enough to pay the hefty membership fee. You also needed a letter of recommendation from an active member. The Portlands had been my family’s sponsor before they fled Blackwood Keep and the scandal their daughter had caused.

  Four and a half years ago, Olivia had attempted suicide, and despite the rampant rumors, no one knew why. Olivia had been destined for popularity and beauty, and for her, it had been enough. Until it wasn’t. No one noticed the light around her dimming until it was too late. Until she’d turned to her crush in a last-ditch effort and then realized Ever couldn’t fill that void.

  I hadn’t seen my childhood friend in years, and truth be told, I wasn’t sure if I could call myself her friend. We’d been different and distant despite our parents pushing us together. Mine hadn’t approved of me pretending to be just another one of the boys and had hoped Olivia could unearth my more feminine sid
e. Despite the fact that we shared zero interests, Olivia and I had become trusted allies.

  Guilt was an impossible pill to swallow, but I grabbed my glass of water anyway and somehow refrained from gulping it down. I was only allowed the dainty sips my mother deemed appropriate of an up-and-coming socialite.

  “No, mother. I’m having a lovely time.” I turned to Mr. Portland to avoid my father’s glare and offered him a charming smile. “Mr. Portland, will you be allowing my father a chance to win back some of the money you bested him out of last weekend?”

  My parents and Mr. and Mrs. Portland chuckled. However, their response was stalled by their son approaching our table. Jason was dressed in the club required jacket and tie with slacks, and I knew instantly by the self-satisfied smirk that he’d heard my question. Most days, Jason couldn’t tell his head from his ass, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. He knew my family was broke, and even more daunting was that he knew what my father planned to do about it. He reveled in it, hoping for a chance to steal me from Ever and finally have revenge for his sister.

  Anyone would think that my request was light-hearted teasing. However, the money my father lost playing golf had really set us back. The men who attended the club were high rollers who didn’t gamble in mere tens or hundreds but rather tens of thousands. It was the kind of thing bored men with too much money did.

  My father was a different story, however. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were gambling in a foolish attempt to flip the little money we had left. Elliot Montgomery was sinking fast, and he was determined to bring my mother and me with him. It was anyone’s guess how he’d managed to maintain our illusion of wealth this long, but I was sure I didn’t want to know. Whatever it was would haunt me for the rest of my days. No matter how far away I got from him.

  I could have run years ago when I found out his plans to marry me off and fatten his pockets, but the risk of being dragged back again kept me at bay. No one, not even Ever, knew about my single failed escape attempt. My father had made sure to keep it under wraps and painted an ugly picture of what would happen if I tried it again. I’d barely made it out of Blackwood Keep. It was a wonder how I’d make it all the way to Scotland.

  Don’t go there.

  I realized it was no use as my mind drifted to Jamie anyway. I’d been desperate, not for salvation, but for the love I now know I didn’t deserve. Knowing Jamie might have needed me, too, drove me to not care about the consequences if I were caught. I blamed my foolish heart and myself for following it, but never again.

  I knew better this time.

  “Mr. Montgomery, I’d be happy to play a few rounds with you,” Jason offered as he took a seat. “That is if your future son-in-law doesn’t mind.” Jason made a show of looking at the empty setting next to me before looking around the dining room for Ever. “Is he here?”

  The tension could have been cut with a knife, but I would have much rather used it to slice Jason’s balls, which had grown considerably in the years since he had left. He’d never been so bold before. Any sympathy I’d had for him had been washed away by his cruelty.

  “I’m afraid not,” my father answered before his gray brows furrowed. I knew the question that was coming next and took a deep breath. I’d already rehearsed my answer. “Where is Ever? Did he and his mother not receive our invitation?”

  “Yes, Father, but since Mrs. McNamara only just returned to town, she didn’t think it appropriate to celebrate the holiday.” At least, that was what I imagined she’d say if I’d bothered to invite her. And Ever… God. Pretending to be my fiancé now that he was dating Four was complicated enough. Expecting him to celebrate Mother’s Day with the woman who abandoned him for my benefit was too much to ask. The last thing I wanted was to push my best friend too far. He’d already given so much. And more than anything, I wish I’d never let him get involved.

  “It’s just as well,” Mr. Portland said with a sniff. “Honestly, Elliot, I don’t see how you can allow your daughter to marry that wretch after what he did to our Olivia.”

  “It’s no wonder Evelyn left,” Mrs. Portland chimed in. “Her son is a monster.”

  As if they’d conjured him up, I blinked stupidly at the tall figure crowding the entrance a moment later. His mother was at his side, and although Evelyn couldn’t seem to take her eyes off her son, Ever didn’t acknowledge her as he searched the crowded room for an empty table.

  Forgetting the lie I’d just told my parents, my lips parted to call out to him. His name quickly became lodged in my throat at the sight of his cousin cockily sauntering past them and into the dining room.

  Faintly, I heard my name being called, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the vision Jamie created in dangerously sagging khaki Bermuda shorts and the black collared shirt hugging his chest. He was dressed no different than any other male member, but somehow, he’d made smart casual look sinfully appetizing. Perhaps it was the buttons he’d left undone, giving me and every housewife and debutante in the vicinity something to dream about later. He hadn’t bothered to tuck the ends of his shirt, either, although it wouldn’t have helped. Jamie’s sex appeal wasn’t exactly something you could mute.

  He was out of place, making me wonder what the hell they were even doing here. I’d only just convinced myself that it was a coincidence they were here until I realized Jamie was making a beeline for our table, with Ever and his mother following closely behind.

  My parents’ backs were turned to the room, so they’d yet to see them approaching, but the Portlands had, and the air quickly became charged with seething anger and old hatred.

  “Barbette, you seem tense,” my mother observed while remaining completely oblivious. “Why don’t you visit Klara today?”

  Before I could answer her, welcoming the chance to escape, the trio reached our table.

  “Well, isn’t this a treat?” Jamie greeted.

  Startled, my parents turned in their chairs to find Jamie, Ever, and Evelyn standing a couple of feet away. Of course, the only one who seemed to be enjoying this awkward encounter was Jamie.

  The Portlands all had matching expressions of anger and distaste while my parents, caught in the middle, floundered for an appropriate reaction.

  “Forgive me,” my father stammered. “I’m afraid you caught us by surprise. Barbette was just telling us that you wouldn’t be able to make it.”

  Jamie, finally gracing me with his attention, smirked. Looking away, I found both Evelyn and Ever frowning their confusion. Of course, neither had known anything about the invitation.

  “Join us, won’t you?” my mother graciously offered, which saved them from responding and me from explaining. The moment the invitation was extended, Mr. Portland angrily slammed his napkin on the table and stormed away. His wife rushed after him, but their son lingered behind. Jason looked ready to retaliate for the intrusion and for much more while Ever and Jamie stared back at him unmoved. Eventually, painstakingly, he walked away.

  “I apologize for the intrusion,” Mrs. McNamara offered as Ever dutifully pulled a chair out for her. Kissing my cheek, he then took a seat between us while shame burned the skin of my nape. I knew Jamie had seen the affectionate display. There was only one empty seat left, and I held my breath, waiting for Jamie to take his place next to me.

  “Nonsense,” my mother lied with an awkward smile. “It’s good to see you again, Evelyn. Perhaps we can finally discuss the wedding?”

  As if I’d just been caught red-handed, my gaze flew to Jamie. He was already watching me, hands shoved in his pockets, smug expression gone. When my lips parted to say something, his eyebrow rose expectantly.

  “Yes, I’d like that,” Evelyn began before noticing that her nephew was still standing. “Jamie, aren’t you going to sit?”

  “Actually, I thought I’d play a round of golf.”

  “Golf? You don’t golf,” I blurted before I realized where I was and who was listening… and that Jamie wasn’t mine. The hush that fell over the table as
I became the focus had me squirming in my seat.

  I was expecting to see smug satisfaction when I peeked at Jamie through my eyelashes. Instead, there was only lust.

  He sank his teeth into his bottom lip and lowered his eyelids until he looked sleepy and hungry all at once. “You don’t know me anymore, Bette. There are a lot of things I do now, and I do them stunningly well.”

  Before anyone could respond to Jamie’s blatant innuendo, he spun on his heel and strolled from the room. His presence hadn’t gone unnoticed, and neither had his departure. I’d seen more than one wandering eye follow him from the room. Jamie was the kind of thrill every girl sought at least once in her life.

  Maybe that was all he’d been for me, too.

  Except… thrills weren’t supposed to last this long, were they?

  Feeling an elbow nudge into my side, I turned my head just as Ever leaned over with a goofy grin. “You’re drooling,” he teased.

  “I am not.”

  He gave me a knowing look before glancing at our parents, who were discussing venues. We hadn’t even set a date yet, though none of them seemed to have noticed.

  “What are you even doing here?” I asked.

  Scratching his head, he shrugged. “It was either here or Denny’s.”

  “I mean, what are you doing here with your mom?” I clarified. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven her?” I tried to fight back the hope swelling in my chest, but it was impossible. I remembered how devastated Ever was when his mother left and how he blamed himself. She was back now, and even though I didn’t know the hows or whys, I was hoping they could reconcile.

  Blowing out air, he looked away before responding. “My dad said he’d consider letting me move back in for the summer if I spent time with her today, okay?”

  I glared at the asshat I called my best friend. The only thing keeping me from punching him in the nose was the fact that he at least appeared contrite.

  “You’re both idiots,” I spat.

  Pushing his hair back from his forehead, he sighed. “I know.”

 

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