Annihilate Him (Volume 1)

by Christina Ross

  “Of course I remember them—I kind of loved him. He actually treated me like a person. And apparently, he’ll say just about anything, which I’m pretty sure you know I dig. But Castellani—she didn’t like me at all. Once again, it was because I’m not in the book. I’m not one of them. She’s another Tootie. She was horrible to me when we first met. Talk about condescending.”

  “I remember. Who else is there? I can’t make out their faces.”

  “Three vipers, all of whom have dismissed me ever since we were first engaged. Just like the countess, they’ve made it very clear that I’m not worthy of you, and that I have no business being with you. They’re a bunch of snobs.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Kitty Flem Dixie, the tobacco heiress; Lorvenia Billiups, the department store heiress; and Frieda Zulrika Teeple, the diamond heiress whose life looks a lot like coal right now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She had an affair last month with three black workers from one of her South African diamond mines. It caused a worldwide scandal. Apparently, the affair, or orgy as it were, took place in one of the mines while Frieda Zulrika Teeple’s workers cheered them on. Given that, I have to say that I’m surprised to see her here.”

  “I didn’t know that you had an issue with the other three. What else have they said to you?”

  “Too much to go into. They were dismissive and cruel, but in a sly way. Isn’t that how it works around here? Look, Alex, I also have thick skin, and I’m always up for taking on people like them.” I widened my eyes at him. “So, with that in mind, let’s go over and say hello.”

  “You’re up to no good again. Let’s wait.”

  I grabbed his hand. “Every time I’ve encountered any of them, with the exception of the count, they’ve treated me like I was shot out of the third world—and into theirs, with no invitation, other than a way out. When we were married, they were quoted in interviews, happily vilifying me as not quiet Wenn material. Do you remember that? No? Well, I do. Much of what they said wasn’t even true.”

  “Why didn’t I know this?”

  “Because I protected you from it.” I looked at them all. “I always knew that karma would run them over. I just didn’t know that one day I’d be driving the bus.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  WE STARTED TO CUT THROUGH the crowds toward the group. When Alex saw Frieda Zulrika Teeple, he squeezed my hand.

  “Isn’t that the woman—”

  “That’s her.”

  “The one who had the orgy?”

  “That’s right. That’s her.”

  “I remember hearing about that now. That was just a month or so ago.”

  “Like I said. And isn’t it great? She’s either brave or deluded to be seen so soon. We’ll find out.”

  As we approached them, we found Countess Castellani in full rant.

  “None of you can imagine the trouble we’re having in San Miguel de Allende. The house still isn’t finished—and it’s been thirty-seven months! As young as I am, I’ll be dead before we move into it. Yes, I know, shame on me—it’s a seventy-two-room castle overlooking the city, with sharp, specific views of the Parroquía. But when will it end? Those damned Mexicans are robbing us blind. First they tell me it will be another six months, which turns into another twelve months. And then another eighteen months.”

  “But from what you’ve told me, you keep adding rooms,” Henri said.

  “Oh, who cares? Do you have any idea of the stress I’m under? It probably shows—but don’t you dare say that it does. If you did, I’d have to go for another drink—or to my plastic surgeon—which would do none of us any good at this point. Besides, I’ve already had a drink or so.”

  “Or so?”

  “Fine—maybe two.”

  “Just the two?”

  “You horrible man. Who can keep the truth from you! I’m up to five at this point, but I’m still standing, aren’t I? And yet I don’t feel a thing. What’s wrong with me?”

  “Your liver?”

  “Oh, no. Not the liver. The liver is in top shape.”

  “Quelle surprise.”

  “The truth is that nothing is wrong with me. I just saw my doctor—you know, the esteemed Dr. Manhub Al Shammari. His practice is on Park. You should go. Everyone goes there. He combines the best of Eastern and Western medicines. He has me eating these exotic bugs and mushrooms now.”

  “You’re eating exotic bugs?”

  “I am.”

  “Are they alive?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Countess, I don’t know how to respond to that.”

  “There’s no need to. They are very exclusive, rare, and expensive bugs with medicinal powers. I have my cook peel them like shrimp before I pop them into my mouth. They’re perfectly suitable with a dipping sauce.”

  “That’s all fine and good—I guess—but let’s talk about something else you mentioned earlier. I didn’t know that Eastern medicine embraced plastic surgery.”

  “You’re such a trickster, Henri. I’m an East and West kind of girl.”

  Alex cleared his throat, and the countess and Henri Dufort were the first to look at us. While the countess smiled at Alex, Henri gave us each a look of relief.

  “Jennifer,” he said. “Alex. I was wondering where you were.”

  “Just making the rounds, Henri. We’ve been scouting for you. You’ve been tough to find.”

  “Countess Castellani,” I said as we joined the group. “Count Luftwick. It’s good to see you again.”

  Every head turned in our direction.

  “Jennifer,” the countess said while appraising me. “Married life with Alex obviously suits you. You look...good. Very red. Very now. Uber fresh. I bet Frieda wouldn’t mind having those diamonds—or your legs. How is your mother?”

  My mother had been sent to jail three months ago for bank fraud, something the press had latched onto the moment the news hit. Since I no longer had a relationship with my parents, the news, when I learned of it from friends back home, surprised even me. What didn’t surprise me is that my mother would actually do something like that. She and my father were capable of anything, which was one of the main reasons I’d left Maine for Manhattan.

  “I have no contact with my parents, Countess, but if I were to imagine her life now, I see her scrubbing toilets in prison.”

  “I’m appalled to hear that.”

  “I’m not. She put herself there.”

  “Still, it must be awful for her, all that urine and whatnot.”

  “Believe me, she’s seen worse.”

  “All felons must do their time,” Kitty said. “Frankly, I’m not surprised that your mother is in jail. Weren’t you raised in a trailer, Jennifer? By alcoholics?”

  And here we go.

  “I was,” I said. “And you’re right about people doing their time, Kitty. Long before we officially met, I heard stories about the time your father did for raping that young woman in a Kentucky funeral parlor while, in the next room, they were preparing her father’s body for the viewing. Those security cameras can be rather inconvenient, don’t you think? Not to mention absolutely revealing.” I paused to admire the piece of jewelry at the woman’s throat. “By the way, that’s a lovely brooch. The green matches your eyes.”

  The woman seemed surprised by the compliment and undone by the mention of her father’s past. Blackwell had told me that his actions had disgraced the family for years. Kitty put her fingertips to the giant emerald and was about to say something when Count Luftwick said, “Jennifer, I can’t see you, but I’m certain you’re one of the room’s stars.”

  “She certainly is glittering,” Lorvenia said.

  I looked at Lorvenia Billiups with a smile. “Lorvenia, I just saw you the other night on Court TV. They’re currently running your trial in re-runs.”

  “They’re what?”

  “Your court appearance—and the scandal that went with it. It’s all in re-runs.” />
  “You watch Court TV?”

  “When I can’t sleep, it calms me to see people I’ve met through Alex.”

  “And they’ve put me out to the masses again?”

  “I’m afraid you’re everywhere right now. I try not to miss that channel because you never know who will turn up. For instance, right now, it’s you. Can I just tell you that I don’t believe for a minute that you knew about all those illegals working at your department stores?”

  “Thank you. I had no idea.”

  “Of course not,” Count Luftwick said under his breath. “Mexicans have a knack for blending in.”

  They all heard that and a few eyes widened at the racist overtones. There was a pause in the conversation while Lorvenia lifted her chin.

  “I’m sure you didn’t know, Lorvenia,” I said. “But I’m glad it turned out as well as it did for you. I wish my mother had received only an ankle bracelet.” I paused. “How long did you serve?”

  “Six months. In my Bar Harbor mansion along the Maine coast. You’re from Maine aren’t you, Jennifer?”

  “I am.”

  “But not coastal....”

  “No, not coastal. As so many have pointed out, I grew up in a trailer—inland.”

  “Oh dear...”

  “Actually,” Alex said, “Jennifer and I have a house on the Point.”

  “But that was your parents’ house.”

  “And now it’s our house.”

  “Of course it is,” Lorvenia said. “But let’s get back to my time in Maine. God. Such stunning views. Friends flew in for dinner. My children visited. The Fords and the Rockefellers came by to offer their support. Oddly, it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. I was able to garden, entertain, and spend time with myself, which I never do because I’m always so busy, busy, busy when I’m in here in New York. The time I spent in Maine was something like a vacation. Maybe even out of a dream.”

  “Sounds like a nightmare to me,” Count Luftwick said.

  “Not at all,” Lorvenia said. “But then you’ve never actually seen the house. It’s faboo. The views! Oh, how I wish you could see them!”

  “I can’t see shit, Lorvenia. You know that. So, get your finger out of my ass, will you? Stop tickling my eyeballs with it. Jesus.”

  “Anyway,” the countess interjected. “We’re glad it went as well as it could for you, Lorvenia.”

  “It’s interesting how the law works,” I said. “My mother should have gotten off so easily.”

  “But your mother committed fraud,” Frieda said. “It’s not quite the same thing, Jennifer.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” I scrutinized the woman’s face. “You’re always so sharp, Frieda. So quick. I admire you for that. And I’m sorry that I haven’t written you since your recent public crisis. I’ve meant to, but Alex and I have only just settled into our new apartment. Decorating, moving—that kind of thing. It’s awful that you’re facing such lies and humiliation because of something the press made up. I hear from friends that people were talking about it in Paris. And in Saint Petersburg and Beijing. A South African orgy? With three men in one of your mines? How does that even happen?”

  “It didn’t happen.”

  “But they won’t stop saying that it happened.”

  “I believe that it happened,” the count said. “In this town, gossip might as well fall from the Lord’s lips. I look for the worst in everyone. Even you, Frieda. Sometimes, especially you. Sorry.”

  “He’s just joking,” the countess said, and I noticed that the woman was digging her nails into the count’s arm.

  “They were talking about me in Beijing?” Frieda said.

  “They were. But the good news is that your lawyers, I presume, were quick enough to remove the footage from YouTube,” I said. “That’s when I learned about it—when news about the video was trending on Twitter.”

  “I was trending on Twitter?”

  “At one point, you held the top spot. I viewed the video. And even though the footage was grainy, I’m still not convinced that it was you. I think the only one who believes it for sure is Lady Molesworth, whom I hear can’t shut up about it. But you know how she is. When even the hint of a scandal hits, she’s not happy until she gets on the phone and calls everyone she knows or thinks she knows. She phoned a friend of mine the day the news hit. My friend told me it was Lady Molesworth’s mission to tell everyone. I think she’s the reason so many people know about it.”

  “You’ll notice that Lady Molesworth isn’t here tonight,” Frieda said with a self-satisfied smile.

  “I didn’t notice,” I said. “But I do hope she’s not making more telephone calls with that extra time she has on her hands...”

  A waiter stepped beside us with a tray full of glasses of bubbling champagne. I took one just as the crowd surrounding Henri started to ease away in a flurry of kisses. When they turned to leave, only one person bothered to speak to me.

  “Good-bye, Jennifer,” Count Luftwick said. “And thanks for the show. You always know how to keep things interesting. And thank God for that.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “THANK YOU FOR ARRIVING when you did,” Henri said. “God, they’re boring. And condescending. I’m sorry for the way they treat you, Jennifer. And for the way they’ve always treated you.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “There’s something to be said for being an outsider—and I am an outsider. I find them fascinating.”

  “You shouldn’t, because they’re not. But at least you gave it back to them. Luftwick was right—you keep things interesting.”

  “My wife has a way of doing that,” Alex said.

  “You’re a lucky man.”

  “I know I am.”

  “I like to think that we’re both lucky,” I said.

  “You are,” Henri said. “Now give me a kiss—it’s been too long. Are you OK with being here? After what happened?”

  As I kissed him on each cheek, he took each of my hands in his own and gave them an affectionate squeeze before kissing me on each cheek.

  “I’m fine. The past is the past.”

  “Too many people here like to keep the past in the present.”

  “They don’t bother me, Henri. At least the count has always been kind to me. As for the others, well—not so much.” I shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? I’m here with the most important man in my life and now I get to spend time with a dear friend of mine—you. That’s what matters. So, I’m happy.”

  “You look ravishing, but what else is new?”

  “Believe me, I get a lot of help, but thank you.”

  “You’re too modest.”

  “And you’re as handsome as ever.”

  “I’m wearing elevator shoes,” he said. “Can you tell?”

  “You do seem taller.”

  He looked at Alex. “And that’s why I adore your wife. Anyone else would have bullshitted me. ‘Oh, no, Henri—you look the same.’ I swallow it because I’m in business with most of these fools, but I hate the lies.” He motioned toward me. “But this one? This one tells it like it is.”

  “Best to keep it real,” I said.

  “Tough to do that in this crowd.”

  “But you see? I’m not part of this crowd. I’m an alien. Some don’t care that I’m married to Alex—they’ve accepted me for me. Others know that I come from the wrong side of the tracks, and they’ll never get over that. Sometimes it stings, sometimes it makes me want to be a little mischievous, but mostly I just ignore it. It’s not as if I’m going home with any of them. This is a party—and a grand one, in fact. How do you even pull anything like this off, Henri? It’s remarkable. Look at this place. Look at how many people came. I always feel lucky to have these kinds of experiences, so why should anyone ruin that for me? I refuse to let them.”

  At that moment, Henri’s father, Audric, zipped up in his wheelchair, blew his horn, and stopped beside us, startling all of us. Now that I could see him up close and not just in a
passing blur shooting by us, I could see beyond his years. At one point in his life, he must have been extremely handsome. He had a full head of white hair neatly combed back and an inquisitive face that brightened when he saw us.

  “Père,” Henri said. “You’ve been up to no good all night.”

  “That was the plan,” he said. “And stop trying to look so serious—it doesn’t work. I know that you were enjoying it, too.”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Maybe a lot.”

  “Père, you know Alex, of course, but I don’t think you’ve met his lovely new wife, Jennifer Wenn. Jennifer, this is my father, Audric Dufort.”

  “It’s good to see you again, Diana.”

  And at that, Henri looked aghast. “No, this is Jennifer,” he said. “Alex’s first wife, Diana, passed away. You remember that, don’t you? But maybe you don’t. That was years ago.” When he looked up at Alex and me, I could see the discomfort on his face, and my heart went out to him. Obviously, his father had memory issues. “I’m so sorry,” he said.

  “There’s nothing to apologize for, Henri,” Alex said, turning his attention to Audric. “We’ve been watching you tonight, Audric. Have you claimed any lives with this chair of yours?”

  “Unfortunately, not a one, my dear boy,” the man said. “But the night isn’t over yet—so there’s hope.” He held out his hand to Alex, and Alex shook it. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in God knows how long, and I’ve missed you. How are your parents?”

  Alex didn’t even blink at that. “They’re fine, Audric. They’ve asked for you.”

  “I have to say that I never liked your mother—I always thought she was kind of a bitch. And your father is nothing if not a control freak, but at least he knows business. I respect him for that. We’ve done a few fine deals together. Hope to do a few more before either of us kicks the can. Why aren’t your parents here?”

  “They had other plans.”

  “What other plans? Look at this place. As usual, Henri has put on one hell of a show. This is the place to be.”

  “They hope to see you soon,” Alex said.

  “I should hope so. But I won’t be here long. Time’s ticking, my boy. I could be gone in an instant. All night long, people have been looking at me with sorrow in their eyes. I know I’m old. I know I can’t walk. I know that I have pretzels for fingers and legs, and that I’m a slave to this wheelchair. Do they think I’m a fool? Jesus, these people make me itch. I’ve never gotten used to them—never will. But I put up with them—just as my son does. And do you want to know why? I’ll tell you why. As well schooled as they are, most of them are suckers. They didn’t start out like I did. None of them ever had to get their hands dirty. I came to this country with nothing—but I got rich because I worked hard, and because I used them.” He pointed at Alex. “So did your father.”