“That is messed UP!” said Billie. “What did his third wife do?”
“Vanya gave him a quickie divorce.”
Carole-Ann gave a low whistle. “No wonder you ran the hell away from your old life, girl. Sounds kinda crappy.”
“Yeah,” said Pris realizing this conveniently gave her an excuse for becoming a stripper. “My life kind of went off track for a while. I was dating Jenna's brother Hayden at the time, but we only lasted another eighteen months after that. It just seemed...ruined somehow. I couldn't forgive her. or my Dad. I mean, he was a serial cheater on all his wives, but I couldn't understand why he had to do that with my best friend.” She brooded on this a moment.
“He cheat on your Mama too?” asked Bettina.
“I think so, yes,” Christine answered philosophically. “His second wife was his secretary. Rosemary, the mature one with the business suit and the pearls? He only waited four months after my mother's death to marry her, and it certainly wasn't to give me a mother, as she never had a maternal bone in her body. She's married to a financial advisor now and they run their own consultancy firm. I always got on with her well enough, but I never flat out asked her about exactly what being Dad's secretary involved. I didn't want to know.” She took another sip of her lime and soda water.
“Who was the stylish one with the European accent?” asked Billie curiously.
“Dad's third wife, Vanya. The one with the floaty scarves and the black hair,” she added for the benefit of Carole-Ann who was frowning in concentration. “She was his mistress for years before he left Rosemary for her.”
“What a piece of work,” said Lois shaking her head disbelievingly. “Honey, no wonder you ran away from home and became a stripper!”
Chrissy cleared her throat. “Dad died two years ago, but we were never close. I always kept in touch with Vanya and Rosemary. Jenna and I were through. After the funeral we never spoke again. Then, when I decided to...get a fresh start here with Jared. I just cut off all contact. I shouldn't have done that...Vanya and Rosemary were really worried.”
“It's your life,” snorted Bettina looking belligerent. “One of those stepmothers was doing the nasty with your old man, while he was still married to your Mama. You ask me, you were pretty forgiving.”
Pris grimaced. “I guess.”
“Who was that weaselly-looking fella?” asked Lois.
“A private detective,” sighed Chrissy.
“Your moms hired a detective to trace you,” breathed Billie.
“It appears so. They were scared I'd been abducted or had an accident or something.”
A brooding silence fell over their table.
“Wow, I still can't believe your bestie ran off with your own Dad,” said Billie. “It's so Jerry Springer!”
Chrissy winced. “Yeah. it is. Plus, Vanya was my favorite step-mother so it was a double - no triple betrayal. Jenna betrayed me, Dad betrayed me and they both betrayed Vanya. She used to take me and Jenna shopping and to shows and exhibitions and stuff all the time. Jenna used to call her 'Aunt Vanya'.”
“Gross,” said Billie, her eyes wide.
“Bitch was probably always jealous of you, Pris,” said Lois. “Stands out a mile.
Pris couldn’t agree with this. “Hardly, Jenna was the confident one, the one all the boys wanted. Although she was always telling me how lucky I was as my Dad was always on business trips and leaving me alone.”
“Envious,” chimed in Bettina nodding her head slowly. “She wanted your life and stole it. Like in that movie, ‘All About Eve’.”
“Stupid bitch,” breathed Carole-Ann. “I can't believe she threw away your friendship like that, for some old guy who couldn't keep it in his pants! You want me to slap her? I could do it so the bruises won't show.” She cracked her knuckles.
Pris gave a startled laugh. She imagined how shocked and annoyed her status-led father would have been to hear himself described as 'some old guy'. “Caz, you're an angel,” she replied warmly. “But no, she's not worth it.” She sat back and looked at the women round the table. “We were never tight, like we're tight. She never had my back like you guys. Not really.”
“Sure, we're your posse,” said Billie.
“You're our girl,” agreed Lois.
Pris grinned. God, she was lucky to have girlfriends. She never had this when she was Christine Lascombe. Her closeness to Vanya was probably the closest to it, but Vanya was always flying off to Europe and had a very full-on career. They would check in with each other once a week but would never regularly meet up for beer or coffee or shoot each other strings of texts like these girls did. And Jenna? Her friendship with Jenna had put her off female friendship for five whole years! This was just another aspect of her life in Cranston Falls that she didn't want to lose.
Then there was her job. She just loved her job! Sitting on boards, organizing charitable committees and sponsored social events didn't even compare. Being Pristine Hunt, ex-stripper had given her a whole different outlook on life, and what she wanted from it. But she had no idea how the hell she was going to reconcile her past and present lives. The fact was, that Jared had not known Christine Lascombe, heiress extraordinaire at all. She had a strong suspicion he was going to balk when he found out just how much money and property she had to her name. She hadn’t even dared bring it up yet. How was she going to even broach the subject when they were on such rocky ground with their newly patched up relationship? The way he was being all closed off with her since they had returned from the hotel was really demoralizing somehow.
“What is it?” said Carole-Ann abruptly plunking down her drink. “I can see you chewing that bottom lip, and I know that means something is bothering you. Just spill it.”
“It’s Jared,” sighed Pris. “He’s being all…understanding and restrained. Walking on eggshells around me. Not telling me what he’s really thinking. I don’t want to push him, but…”
“He’s trying so hard, honey” said Lois. “Anyone can see he’s terrified of losing you.”
“I know, it’s just-“
“Cut the crap,” said Carole-Ann. “Pushing him is exactly what you need to do to him right now!” She sighed and shook her head. “You’re doing this all wrong.”
“How do you figure?” asked Pris, feeling confused.
“You need to bind him hard, so you feel secure of him,” said Carole-Ann. “Before you hit him with anymore of this shit from your past, right?”
Pris thought of the swiss bank account, the stocks, the real estate, and the Lascombe company shares. “Yes,” she agreed simply.
“So, push him,” said Carole-Ann simply. “Just like we did with Grady.”
“Carole-Ann could be onto something,” said Bettina wryly. “You’re dealing with a bear shifter here. You may need to provoke him for a reaction.”
Pris took a thoughtful sip of her lime and soda. Maybe they were right. After all, both Bettina and Carole-Ann were married to bears. “Carole-Ann,” she said slowly. “When we’re done, would you mind dropping me off at a place called The Heights in Shawston? It’s about a half hour away. I can find my own way back.”
“Sure,” shrugged Carole-Ann.
“After you’ve dropped me,” added Pris with a glint in her eye. “I’ll need you to call Jared and tell him exactly where I am.”
**
Forty-five minutes later, Pris waved off Carole-Ann’s truck and started up the drive to the gated property. She started up the drive with a jaunty step. As she walked, she took in the impressive property that was The Heights. Jared had built it, so if for no other reason she would admire it for that alone. It was beautiful and modern and everything that she no longer wanted for a home. All that cold steel and glass and squares just wasn’t her. It had never had been. She had just been trying to be someone else. Christine Lascombe, heiress. She would sell it at some point, she guessed. Maybe she could let it for now. It would be a good investment at least. When she reached the imposing gates, she flipp
ed open the keypad and punched in the access code.
As the gates started to swing open, she felt her phone buzz in her purse and smiled to herself. Carole-Ann had no doubt told Jared where she was by now. She checked the screen, and sure enough, it said ‘Jared calling’. She ignored it and carried on her merry way.
Twenty minutes later she was dragging her third suitcase out of the bedroom, with her ex dogging her every move and pleading with her.
“I'm not interested in arguing Stu,” she said calmly. “I just want you off my property.”
His face fell. “If you want me out, then why are you leaving?” he asked.
“That's really none of your business,” she said lugging the case down the first flight of stairs. He followed behind her. “I don't need to justify my actions to you anymore. And you don't to me either,” she added as an after-thought. Not that you ever did, she added silently. “I'm no longer remotely interested.”
“Please don't tell me you're going back to that - that...kidnapper!” he said tightly.
Pris paused, resting her case for a moment and reflecting on the irony that even if she were leaving Jared, he wouldn't stand idly by and watch her carry heavy cases. Sure, he might take them out of her hands and carry them straight back into the trailer, she thought with the glimmer of a smile. But he wouldn't stand two steps behind her, bleating the whole time and watching her struggle. Stu really was an ass.
In fact, she thought, sweeping her gaze over him dispassionately, she really had no idea what she'd ever seen in him in the first place. That weak jaw, the shifty eyes, the over-long floppy hair that he kept running his fingers through like it was some kind of compulsion.
“You have to understand, angel,” he implored. “That I was under a lot of stress, it couldn't have happened at a worse time-”
“Don't call me that,” she interjected. “And I'm not interested.” She heaved the suitcase back up under her arm and started back down the stairs.
“You've got Stockholm syndrome,” Stu announced dramatically, flinging his arms wide. “Happens all the time in kidnapping cases...”
“Kidnapping?” she dropped the case and swung round on the step, gazing at him frankly. Okay, she had, had enough of humoring this guy. “I remember Stu. I remember all of it. I remember me, looking up at you and you not saying a word when I asked who you were. You were stood right there,” she pointed at the spot down below in the living area, “When Jared answered me. And all you could do was stare at the smashed sculpture, with tears in your eyes. You looked right through me like I didn't even matter to you.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Is it any wonder in my confused mind that I thought I was nothing to you?” She paused. “Except, it turns out I wasn't all that confused. In fact, it was probably the clearest I'd ever seen you,” she said. “Because I didn't mean anything to you. Nothing at all.”
“That's not true Chrissy,” he said vehemently shaking his head.
She puffed out her cheeks going for the big guns. “And I also saw the exhibition photos on your website Stu. The ones with the blonde? The one you identified as me.”
He flushed right up to his roots. “I - I can explain, sweetie,” he stammered. “I was in one hell of a hole without your backing. I needed you compos mentis and on the ball, at my side, networking and selling me to the buyers, but you were...”
“...Useless to you,” she finished flatly. “So you got rid. Well now the shoe's on the other foot. And I am getting well rid of you.”
His mouth opened and closed. “Chris...” he said weakly. “I know we can work this out. If we could just sit down together and talk it out like rational human beings...”
Pris sighed, realizing she was going to have to muster up some anger to actually convince him that his meal ticket had expired. This was inconvenient as she was finding it hard to conjure up much emotion for him at all except mild dislike, and relief she was no longer with the guy!
Then the front door exploded, and she realized someone had just bought plenty of emotion to the party. Jared stood wild-eyed and furious outlined in the doorway for a moment, before he slammed it viciously shut. “Cannot believe I'm finding you here, Pristine,” he gritted out before mounting the stairs three steps at a time. Behind her she heard poor Stuart whimper with alarm, but she couldn't be bothered to expend any more attention on that guy. Two years was enough. Instead she turned to face full-forward looking at her future as he headed toward her like an avenging fury. Her heart throbbed in her chest at the sight of him. “You think you're leaving me, you are very mistaken,” he said in a low, lethal voice. "You think you're going back to that piece of shit," he said, his gaze flickering over to Stuart with loathing. "You can think again."
Apparently, Stuart was speechless at this as he did not utter one word. Pris looking at the weird green glow in Jared's eyes realized that was probably wise. His were-bear was very close to the surface.
“Jared-” she started reasonably but he cut her off with a slice of his hand through the air.
“I don't care,” he roared. “Do you hear me Christine? I. Do. Not. Care!” Strangely enough it was the fact that he actually called her by her real name that made her eyes widen. “My methods may have been underhand, even criminal,” he conceded. “But the end result is you're mine and you're comin' back to Cranston with me and that is the end of it, woman!”
Wondering if she was slightly hysterical, Pris bit the side of her mouth to suppress the wayward laughter that was bubbling up. She opened her mouth but didn't even get a word in before he started up again.
“You want a house like this? Fine, I'll build you one. I built this house - I can build another,” he said angrily. “You want fancy things, I'll get 'em you. Not this asshole.”
Now that bought her up sharp. Wait a minute...
“I get that you're accustomed to a different standard of living,” he said. “But what you don’t know Pris, is that I'm sitting on a pile of cash from this house sale. The business is expanding, and we don't actually need to live in a trailer ...”
“Now just you wait a minute!” cut in Pris, straightening up.
“I can give you everything you need, Pris-“ he insisted, not even listening to what she was trying to tell him.
She tried again. “What you don't seem to understand Jared is that-”
“You just need to stay with me baby, and I can deliver, absolutely, one-hundred percent whatever you want.” He folded his arms, looking resolutely up at her. “I'm your man.”
Pris stared down at him. “Whatever I want,” she repeated blinking down at him.
He didn't even flinch. “Anything. Whatever it takes,” he said simply.
“Oh my god,” she whispered, “You mean it, don't you? You actually mean it,” she pointed to her chest. “Just me. You just want me.”
His gaze was unwavering. “What part of what I just said was unclear to you?” he asked coolly.
Pris expelled her breath in one giant whoosh of air, taking an almost involuntary step down toward him.
His eyes flashed, too quickly for her to read the emotion lurking there. It could have been relief, triumph, anything really. She was too caught up in her own flood of emotion. Suddenly she felt dizzy, as light as air, like the weight of the world had been taken off her shoulders. He didn't know about the money! He had no idea! He thought the money was Stuart's. He was promising her the earth just to come to him with the clothes on her back. Just her, Pristine Christine. She watched almost as if in slow motion as her shaky hand reached out toward him to rest on his shirt front, but no sooner did she feel the soft plaid beneath her fingertips then she was suddenly swept up and over his shoulder, staring down at the staircase and his long jean-clad legs.
“Oof!” she uttered faintly as he dipped to pick up her suitcase.
“You can't just - Chris, wait-” started Stuart suddenly rousing from his stupor.
Abruptly she was whirled around as Jared turned to face him. “Don't you fuckin talk to her, not now, n
ot ever,” he growled. “I find you've been trynna contact her, you'll regret it.” The threat lay heavy in the air a moment as he paused to see if Stuart would dare make any response. Unsurprisingly, he didn't and Jared swung back round to descend the staircase, suitcase in hand, woman over his shoulder without even breaking a sweat.
Pris plunked a hand under her chin and an elbow between Jared's shoulder-blades so she could get a backward glance at Stuart who was now sat collapsed on the step looking after them with an open mouth. She would call Vanya tomorrow and make sure he was out of the property and the locks changed. She wasn't sure yet what they'd do with it, but she wanted her ex out, she knew that much.
Jared's hand slid up her thigh to the edge of her jean shorts and then under. “Don't think I haven't noticed what you're wearing Prissy,” he said, low and mean. “When we get back I'm gonna take it out of your hide that you left home in them and let everyone see what's mine.”
She sighed and bit her lip. It was insane but she overwhelmingly happy to hear him still calling her by that ridiculous name. “You don't think you could give me a pass on this occasion?” she asked lightly. “Considering the circumstances and all.”
“No fuckin’ way,”" he slammed the door so hard it rattled on its hinges.
“These two cases in the porch are mine too.”
She really oughtn't to tease him when he was wound up this tight, she thought guiltily. But it was so much fun. And really, he ought to be grateful that she had left her supposedly wealthy boyfriend for him and his trailer! The warm feeling was spreading right the way through her until even her toes felt tingly with happiness.
He flung the suitcase into the back of the truck and she watched it bounce, grateful there were no breakables in there. Then he went back and grabbed the other two and hefted them in to the back as well. Then something seemed to occur to him and he halted. “Where'd you get these fancy suitcases, Pris?” he asked in a dangerous voice.
She debated telling him she'd borrowed them from Lois or Bettina, but he bumped her on his shoulder while she was still deciding, making her yelp.
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