Brad Pitt’s office space hadn’t been updated since the 1980s. Due to my super keen sense of smell I detected Taco Bell, B.O., Old Spice aftershave and bad breath.
To my great surprise and horror, Martha and Jane were Brad Pitt’s new receptionists.
“If you don’t have an appointment, Astrid,” Martha snapped, “Mr. Pitt won’t be able to see you.”
“Free health care for everyone,” Jane grunted and then slammed her own head down on the reception desk.
“I’m sorry, what?” I grinned, sure that I had misheard.
“Jesus wears a thong,” Martha hissed and turned a shade of red I’d never seen.
Holy shit, had Paris Hilton already gotten to them? This was awesome.
“Moses liked sheep,” Jane screeched. Martha slapped her and stuffed a wad of paper in her mouth.
“Equal rights for gays,” Martha moaned. “All the rich people should give all their money to the poor, and Jesus ate pork in a tube top.” She threw herself to the floor and yanked on her own hair.
Jane fell on top of Martha and proceeded to spew liberal and sacrilegious nuggets of wisdom.
“Well, hidey hodey ho, Astrid,” Brad Pitt yelled from his office doorway. “You are lookin’ miiiiighty fiiiine today, girly girl.”
“Thank you, Brad,” I said with disgust. “Why in the hell do you keep calling my house?”
“Well, little darlin’, why dontcha come on into mah office and we can have a little chitty-chat,” he leered.
God, he was foul... so foul that he actually gave me a tremendous idea. I should use some of my powers for the good of mankind. Shouldn’t I? Yes... yes, I should.
“I’d love to rendezvous in your office with you, Brad,” I purred.
He looked so confused that it was difficult not to laugh. Clearly no one had ever responded positively to his disgusting come-ons. After today no one would have to ever hear one again.
I sauntered past as he watched my butt with great appreciation.
“Martha and Jane, hold all my... what in the fuck is wrong with you two?” Brad bellowed as they wrestled all over the floor.
I glanced over my shoulder. “They’re dating.”
“Well, if that’s not the goddamned grossest shit I’ve ever heard,” he muttered. “Just hold my calls and don’t you dare teach none of that lesbo shit to Angelina. She’s already loose enough.” He shut his office door behind him, licked his lips and gave me a big, skanky, good ol’ boy grin. Brad Pitt of Bowling Green, Kentucky defined the word asshat more than anyone I’d ever met. He was vain, disgusting, and sexist.
“So, girly girl,” he said, flexing his muscles, “why dontcha sit your pretty little hiney down. We done set up that memorial for next Saturday just like you requested.”
“I didn’t... ” I started.
“I know you didn’t think we could do it, but we did, sweet cheeks! And boy, are them some sweet cheeks,” he guffawed and pointed to my ass so I wouldn’t mistake his compliment. My stomach roiled. “We got that there message from ‘Petra’s daughter’. Like we didn’t know who you was.” He laughed and sucked in his gut, which if I’m not mistaken—and I’m not—made him pass gas.
“What are you talking about?” I was confused and asphyxiated at the same time. Bad combo.
“Don’t you play coy with me, you little sweet potato.” He had spittle in both corners of his mouth. “We got that big ol’ six foot by eight foot poster of your momma that you sent over and Angelina had it mounted just like you wanted.”
“Uh huh,” I mumbled. Who in the hell was pretending to be me? Was Petra alive and screwing with everybody?
“I took one good look at that poster of your momma and... God rest her soul... I would have really liked to have mounted her! No offense,” he said.
“None taken,” I replied. “Tell me again when I called to request this.”
“Well, lemme think.” This could take a while. “I’m a guessin’ it was about two... or four or maybe it was three days ago. We got a real kick out of that fake accent you used on that there message you left.”
“Do you still have that message?” I smiled at him and ran my tongue slowly over my lips.
He about choked on his own saliva he got so excited. “Naw, once we listen to something the machine eats it. Besides... ” He made sure his comb-over was still in place. “You told us to erase it after we wrote down all your orders.”
He slithered his big ol’ butt closer to me on the couch. “But here’s the big news, little dumplin’.” He moved closer. “Your momma left you forty million fuckin’ dollars!” he shrieked like a game show contestant on The Price is Right.
What the fu... ? “What?” I was in such a state of shock I didn’t realize Brad Pitt was fondling my right boob. As soon as I did, I punched him in the head and he went flying across the room. It was a good thing Ethan wasn’t here. Brad Pitt would be dead.
Forty million dollars. Where did she get forty million dollars? That couldn’t be right. Could it?
“Are you sure about that amount?” I demanded.
“Yep,” he whimpered from the floor. “You have one hell of a left hook.”
“Thank you.”
“Yer welcome.” He got up and sat in the chair across the room from me. I guess you could teach an old dog new tricks. “The check will be ready next week, and right over there on my desk... ” he pointed tentatively “... are all the details for your momma’s memorial next Saturday.”
I grabbed the folder and slowly approached him. He got lower and lower in his chair. Time to do some good for mankind.
“Sit up,” I barked. He did.
I didn’t know if this would be hard or easy. I was a little nervous, but he deserved it. He was a boil on the butt of the universe, and it was high time he was lanced. I let my eyes go green and I stared deeply into his little beady ones. He went slack-jawed and was more unattractive than usual. How was that possible?
“You will never come on to any woman other than your wife ever again. You will treat your wife like a goddess, and you will be at her disposal twenty-four seven. You will get rid of that skanky comb-over and you will brush your teeth more often.”
This was fun!
“If you ever say anything inappropriate to a woman in this lifetime, your testicles will itch horrifically for a week. If you persist, your balls will fall off, followed by your dick. You will donate a third of your income to local charities.”
I thought for a moment. Was there anything else? Nope, that pretty much covered it.
“Yes,” he said, still tranced.
“Good.” I let my eyes go back to amber gold and I waited. If this was successful, I might have a new calling in life. As he came out of his stupor, he looked confused, but quickly refocused.
“Well, Miss Porter, again please accept my condolences on your mother’s untimely and tragic death.” He gave me a fatherly smile. “The check should be here next week, and the memorial should run smoothly. I will review the details again myself. I must say it’s quite a beautiful sendoff you have planned for your mother. Please let me or my lovely wife, Angelina, know if we can assist you further.”
“Thank you Mr. Pitt,” I smiled, satisfied with my work but still confused about who arranged all this. “Please give my best to Angelina.”
I left his office and approached a grunting Martha and Jane.
“Teachers should get paid more and gay marriage is the answer to my prayers,” Jane shouted and then punched herself in the head.
“The Pope wears a miniskirt and I worship dogwood trees!” Martha choked out, turning a mottled purple.
I smiled. Being a Vampyre so did not suck.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I walked out of Brad Pitt’s office feeling good, and saw something that made me feel even better. He sat across the street on the steps of the only bank in town. His chin rested in his hands and he had that sexy half-smirk thing going on. I think I’m in lov... What in the hell am I thin
king? Close the brain door, close the brain door... he can hear me. Shut it!
I looked around and wondered where all of his guards were. He was too important to be traveling without protection, although from what I had seen he was stronger and more deadly than any Vampyre in our compound, and the Vamps in our compound were the best of the best. I didn’t spot anyone, and my eyes were good. Good enough to clearly notice he was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.
He grinned and my knees almost buckled. Damn him. I stopped about thirty feet away. I gave him the eyeball and put my hands on my hips. He just kept grinning as he stood and waited.
I shouldn’t go. I should stand my ground. I absolutely should not go. If I go, I might have to jump him in public... I should not jump him in public. I should do it in private. Wait. I shouldn’t jump him ever. Anyway, he should come to me... but I wanted to go to him. Nope, I’m not going.
While I argued with my inner slut he made up my mind for me. He picked me up and carried me to the most expensive-looking car I’d ever seen. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and laid a big wet one on his beautiful lips. He tasted so good.
“Did you have fun in there?” Ethan inquired as he carried me across the street to his car.
“I did,” I said, ducking to avoid knocking my head on the door as he dumped me into the passenger seat while copping a major feel of my butt.
He got in the driver’s side. “You know, you were right. I almost did come in there and kill him when he touched you.” He was very serious.
“Oh my God,” I yelled, hitting him. “You cannot go around killing people for me. I am perfectly capable of doing that myself.”
He laughed. “But you wouldn’t have killed him, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t have. He’s an idiot, not a danger. Big difference,” I told him, putting on my seat belt.
He watched me and smiled.
“Oh,” I giggled. “Habit... guess I don’t really need this anymore.”
“You are still so beautifully human.” He touched my face, drawing me to him.
Every touch, every look, everything about him sent electricity and need coursing through my veins. His lips were so close to mine. I wanted him to kiss me.
“How’s the ‘dating other people thing’ going for you?” he asked with what I would have to label as mock sincerity.
“It sucks,” I told him, running my tongue along his lower lip. “No Vampyre will come near me because of you.” I saw no need to say anything about Heathcliff. We did not go on a date and although it turned out to be very special, it was not romantic.
He made a sad face. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He was gloating.
“How’s it going for you?” I realized in that moment I really wanted to know. Holy shit, was I jealous? I never got jealous. Ever. I wanted to rip her eyes out. Whose eyes? I had no idea, but if he told me he was seeing someone else I’d kill her.
“It’s going fine,” he said, revealing nothing.
I narrowed my eyes. “What exactly does that mean?”
“Well... ” He took the longest pause in the whole wide world, loving my jealousy. I was going to cry. “I don’t need to date anyone else. I already know who I want and I have every intention of getting her.” He kissed my eyes. “And making her mine,” he said as he kissed my nose, “for eternity.” He kissed my lips, then pulled back and looked right into my soul. “Soon.”
“Well... okay then,” I said, mollified.
“Okay then,” he said, starting the car.
“Where are we going?” I asked, kind of hoping he’d say a hotel.
“On a date,” he grinned, “but we could go to a hotel after if you’d like.”
“Get out of my head,” I snapped.
“Can you not read my thoughts?” he asked, enjoying himself way too much.
“No, I can’t. That one time in the graveyard I could. You must remember that,” I snarked, “the time you tried to kill me?”
“I had no intention of killing you, Angel. I had every intention of doing something else with you, but you disappeared. We never have discussed how you were able to do that.” He arched an eyebrow at me and waited. That look brought other Vampyres to their knees. He could be very scary. If I were easily intimidated that eyebrow thing would have scared me to death, but as it was it just made me want to make out with him really bad.
I wondered how much to reveal. He already knew quite a bit. “Angel blood,” I said slowly. “My first feeding was from my Angel, Pam. The Magic comes from my Fairy, The Kev.”
“The Kevin is your Fairy?” Ethan was shocked.
“Yes, is something wrong with that?” He had better not trash The Kev. I’d kick his ass. How did he even know about The Kev? He pulled the car over and stared at me. “What?” I said, getting uncomfortable.
“He lets you drink from him?” He was awed.
“All the time,” I replied. Where was this going?
“You drink from him, but not from me?” Jealous Vampyre Boy practically shouted.
“I’m not in danger of being mated to him for eternity, Little Mister,” I shot back.
“Did you just call me Little Mister?” The shock on his face was priceless.
“You betcha I did, Little Mister.” I was positively gleeful.
“Do you have any respect for me at all?” he demanded.
“Tons,” I smiled.
“All right. I was just clarifying.” He rolled his eyes at my total lack of respect for his authority. I knew that he loved that I treated him like a regular Joe, but it frustrated him at the same time. He was used to getting his ass kissed.
“I guess that it would be so awful,” he said, pouting, “to be mated to me. To be mine.”
I could not believe one of the strongest and most respected Vampyres in the world, the Prince of the North American Dominion, was jealous and pouting. Over me. This was the best day ever.
“I’m not saying it would be awful,” I told him. “Quite the opposite, I’m sure.” He started to perk up. “But I need to know you better and you need to know me better.”
“Will you show me your cheerleading jumps?” he asked, biting his lip to keep from laughing.
Venus and Gemma were so going to die.
“Only if you run buckass naked through the Cressida House professing your undying love for me,” I snapped.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said, calling my bluff.
“You so will not,” I laughed.
“I so will too.” He grabbed me and brought his lips to mine.
“Screw you.” I tried to push him away.
“Love to,” he said.
“Wait,” I said, torn between satisfying my curiosity or my libido. “Why is it such a big deal that The Kev is my Fairy?”
He shook his head and smiled, refusing to untangle himself from me. “The Kevin is the most beloved and feared Fairy in history. He is the finest warrior to come along in the last two thousand years. People faint in his mere presence. My guess is you’re not even remotely scared of him.” I nodded my head in agreement. “He doesn’t give his protection or his tutelage to Vampyres. I can only recall one other Vampyre that he has taken under his wing, so to speak,” he grinned.
“Who?” I asked.
“Me,” he replied. “Has his fashion sense improved?”
“Get. Out. Of. Town. You trained with The Kev?”
“Yes.”
“He punches like a freight train and no, he dresses like a blind man. If he ever left the house I’d be embarrassed.”
“Oh, he leaves the house,” Ethan assured me. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he were quite nearby.”
“Hello, my little Krumecaca,” The Kev bellowed from the back seat on cue.
“Shit.” I jumped and slammed my head into the passenger side window. Ethan winced in sympathy. The Kev just laughed and threw a little Glitter Magic to heal the bruise that was fast forming along my cheekbone.
“My
Prince.” He joyously slapped Ethan on the back. “How in the hecks are you doing?”
I turned back to look at The Kev. He was clad in tight salmon-hued flannel PJ bottoms and a cherry red wife beater with pink sponge rollers in his hair. Before I could ask, he explained.
“Gemma likes my hair wavy,” The Kev said, pointing to the rollers.
“Why don’t you use Magic?” I asked.
A wicked grin spread across his beautiful Fairy face. “Because it’s way too much fun to give to you the embarrassment.” He winked at me. “Also it distracts you when we fight.”
“You cheater!” I smacked The Kev and two of his pink rollers flew out. “Oops, let me fix that.” I climbed over my seat into the back and I heard Ethan moan. I took my time and I made sure he got a really good look at my ass.
“You’re killing me, Angel.” His eyes were bright green.
“I’m trying to, Your Highness,” I laughed and rerolled The Kev’s hair. “Why are you here, The Kev?” I fixed several rollers that were about to fall out.
“I have come to you because I had the thoughts that you would be hungry,” The Kev said mischievously. “I also think I would enjoy to watch my other favorite beautiful Vampyre get jealous,” he laughed. Ethan did not.
“I am hungry.” I was being careful. “Um, is that... ?”
“No,” Ethan snapped. “I will not allow you to crawl into some Fairy’s lap and suck on his neck, no matter who he is.” God, Vamps were territorial.
“Oh, my dear Ethan... ” The Kev leaned forward and took Ethan’s face into his hands. “She is the little sister of my heart. I love her like a child, the same way I love you. Astrid’s path will be very difficult. She needs what I can offer her and I am here to prepare her.” He paused. Sometimes his English was so good, I wondered if he was screwing with us the rest of the time. “She is the Chosen One, and it will not be easy.”
“Absolutely not. She is mine and I will give her what she needs,” Ethan said, defying The Kev, which was either really brave or really suicidal. The Kev grinned from ear to ear as if he expected Ethan’s reaction and quite enjoyed it. “Very well,” The Kev bellowed joyfully. “I am sure she is in the hands that are good.”
Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned Series, Book 1) Page 20