by Ashlyn Brady
Despite the unwelcome vibes she was receiving from the Henriettas, they were not going to chase her away from the party. She was Elin’s chief bridesmaid and that was that.
Off to the left, Dizzy Denise pushed out her chair and stood to her feet. “Lookout, the witch is back,” she called to the others before she stalked over to cut off Kyra’s route to the bar.
Kyra exchanged an eye roll with the hockey player.
“I was flying low before, but I’ve parked my broomstick in the corner now.” Kyra gazed at the women drinking their rum bombs to numb their brains into thinking they were having a good time. “When is the party starting?” she said sweetly. “Or were you waiting for me to come back for the fun factor?” She smiled until her cheeks threatened to crack.
“Yeah…no.” Denise avoided the question. She looked Kyra up and down. “Maddy is held up talking in the front bar. She’s arranging some more entertainment for us.”
Kyra held her hands to her face in mock surprise. “I can’t wait to see Maddy’s next gig. When it comes to men, she’s a natural talent scout.”
“That’s because there’s more than empty space between Maddy’s ears.” With one hand perched on her hip, Denise twirled her finger around her silver hoop earring. “So what did you do with your new boyfriend? Have you ditched him already?” Her stony blue-green eyes pinned Kyra to the spot.
“That’s none of your business,” Kyra said, keeping a level voice.
Denise gave a dry laugh. “What the playboy does is everybody’s business and that’s the point you’re missing.”
“Joe made it clear to me that I’m the woman he wants to spend more time with.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the ripple of Susie’s red and blue kilt with the flash of her black velvet vest as she sashayed over.
“Uh-oh, I think we have an instant lust problem here.” Susie’s face was stark white against her red corkscrew curls.
Kyra put a hand to her mouth and nibbled on the rough edge of a fingernail. There was something fundamentally wrong about the direction of the conversation. She suspected she was being teased into another Henrietta trap so they could make another joke out of her.
When Susie sidled up to Denise, Kyra’s nerves jangled. The tartan terror opened her mouth to say, “Oh come on, Joe’s schmaltzy approach was about getting you in the sack, nothing more or less. Admit it, Kyra, you lost your head over him.”
Did she? Oh God, when their tryst was put to her in plain English, the truth was hard to avoid. “So what if I did?”
Susie and Denise smiled like a pair of goofy, circus clowns. “Who’s going to bring her back down to earth, you or me?” Susie said and rested a hand on Denise’s shoulder. “It’s going to be terrible bad either way.”
Dread coiled through Kyra’s body at the signs the two women were going to give her another serve of Henrietta-style, tart reality. Keeping her friendship with Elin was the only reason why she put up with the comments from the hockey tribe.
Denise gave Kyra a frank look. “Do you think Joe is Italian looking?” she asked, deadly serious now.
“What?” Disbelief caused Kyra’s thoughts to trip over each other. “Joe speaks and acts like an Australian guy, there’s no doubt about it.” A shiver spread between Kyra’s shoulder blades as she thought about his tanned complexion. It didn’t look like a spray-on peanut butter or tandoori tan from a salon. His skin color and his dark brown hair and eyes could come from the Mediterranean genes he’d inherited from a parent.
Then she remembered the purse incident and the strange words he’d muttered under his breath that didn’t sound English.
“He could be of Italian, Greek or even Spanish descent,” Kyra said. “I can’t tell for sure. I don’t know him well enough to form an opinion. Where is the discussion leading?”
“Maddy reckons he’s one of Marco’s friends sent to spy on Elin at the party,” Denise said.
Kyra’s mouth dropped open to suck in much-needed air. Shortly after, she clamped it shut again as the accusation filtered through the fog in her head. Joe, was a spy? Please angels don’t let him my Mr. Right be a spy. She didn’t know one way or the other.
She wrung her hands together, questioning why she’d taken the party conversations with him at face value instead of listening carefully to what he’d said to her.
She’d done the same with her conversations with Trent until it was too late and she’d worn out her naive idiot ticket. When the truth came out about his other woman, the price for being taken for a fool was personal, and it hurt like knives.
When Trent told her he loved her, she’d believed him. She’d wanted to be in love with him. She’d loved the idea of being loved by someone.
She pressed her palms against her temples. What had she done? Become obsessed with her fantasies of love, and repeated the same mistake with another good-looking guy, Joe.
In hindsight, Trent’s proclamation of love was really a good-for-now sort of love and not the real love needed for a satisfying relationship. He loved Kyra until he upgraded to a stunningly beautiful woman who made him look better when he was out and about.
Kyra’s self-esteem crashed, along with the belief she had something special to offer a man who loved her.
“Yep, Ka-Ka’s still struggling to get over the spy who kissed her,” Susie said.
“She needs another serve of bad medicine,” Denise said. “That’s why Doctor Maddy wouldn’t give up on the relationship interventions.”
Kyra continued to think about the smooth-talking guys. How was she supposed to protect herself from being suckered in, used, and then tossed away afterward? Should she have analyzed every word the executive rat, Trent, and Joe had uttered? Passed the conversations through a douche filter, to find out whether their flattery and compliments were tricks to manipulate her into giving them what they wanted from her?
What about her physical attraction to Joe and Trent? Was there a switch to flick off when the players revealed their true colors and left her? Trent taught her that chemistry was superficial when it didn’t have an emotional connection to support it.
“Ka-Ka, hello,” Denise said. “Let’s take it slow. Cool down and step out of the Joe hot-house.”
Kyra shook her hand in the air. “Will you shut up? I’m trying to think about him.”
“Ah-ha-ha,” Susie said. “Don’t we know it?”
Kyra blocked out the two midfielders to remember when Joe appeared in the lounge tonight. Her eyes had locked with his. He’d been a vision of handsomeness and fiery temptation. She wanted him to be a wonderful present from the angels, sent to help her forget the other painful men who came into her life before him.
How could she have a phony connection with Joe? Kyra bowed her head. She couldn’t work him out. She didn’t want the beautiful illusion that she’d met an amazing man tonight to shatter into brittle pieces.
Kyra’s mind was racing. Joe couldn’t be Marco’s spy, or else Kyra needed counselling. Maybe Maddy was right that a relationship advisor could give Kyra some tips on how to separate the real men from the fakes. But maybe Maddy was wrong about Joe.
Kyra’s headache of indecision pained. Was Joe a good guy or a rotten apple?
She swallowed to soothe her dry throat. “How did Maddy pick Joe to be Marco’s spy?” she asked Denise.
The midfielder shot Kyra a patronizing look as if to say, are you stupid or what? “Dearie, did Joe leave you with a brain freeze? Snap out of it!”
Kyra finger-combed her messy hair, “I’m not taking anything that comes out of Maddy’s mouth as sincere until I discover the truth for myself.” Her fingers snagged a knot, and with a jerk of her hand, she ripped the strands apart. “It’s a serious accusation she’s making about Joe. Is she just being nasty and creating another drama, or does she have evidence to back up her claim?”
Susie harrumphed at Kyra. “Why do you doubt Maddy?” She swept a hand across the pleats in her kilt, making the tartan shimmer with red and blue c
olor. “Do you know Joe? What’s his full name? Where does he live? What’s his job? Ka-Ka, the playboy is a stranger. Don’t you want to know if you’re infatuated with a mole?”
Kyra shifted in her heels and glanced at a table, longing to sit down and take a moment to think. But at the same time, her doubts were growing about Joe. There was a nagging voice in her head telling her to hear the evidence about the surprise guest before she made up her mind. “You’re going to tell me, anyway. So go ahead then. Get it done with.”
Susie and Denise exchanged frazzled looks with one another.
“Tell Ka-Ka in black and white because she’s too lust-struck to get grey,” the redhead said to Denise.
“Okay let’s start from the beginning.” Denise rubbed a hand across her eyes. “Maddy picked that Joe wasn’t a regular guy almost straight away.”
“So she’s a genius.” Kyra shrugged. “But I thought the same about him.”
“He was too full of his own mojo to be a complete stranger who accidently walked into a hen party. If it was an honest boo-boo of wrong room or wrong time, he should have turned around and walked straight back out again. Why didn’t he?”
“Perhaps, he should have left, but he didn’t because we started a casual conversation about his holiday in Perth, and there wasn’t an urgent reason to finish it. I enjoyed the banter with him.”
“How about this…It’s weird he stayed in the lounge with us. How many men invite themselves to hen parties?” Denise grimaced.
“Men do go to hen parties, you know,” Kyra countered. “There may not be too many males interested, but it’s not the shock of the century.”
“Maddy watched him quickly latch onto you so he could hang around longer.”
A salty flavor crept into Kyra’s mouth. Latched on? Is that how Joe’s actions appeared to the Henriettas?
Denise continued with her frank talk. “Maddy checked that none of us knew him first before she passed the word around to watch out for the TDH guy because he’s a man on a mission.”
Kyra went deathly still inside. The questioning voice inside her head fell silent. She was all ears now, listening carefully to every word Denise spoke.
“So then me and Susie and all of the girls watched him, watch you and Elin. The only two women in the room he seemed interested in.”
Goosebumps started between Kyra’s shoulder blades and spread over her body. “I didn’t see him pay any attention to what Elin was doing.”
“He tracked you both with his eyes the whole time and mostly ignored the rest of us,” Denise said.
“The Henriettas knew we had a problem,” Susie said. “The rooster with an agenda had to go. All we needed was a plan to push his spying ass out the door.”
Kyra thought back through all her conversations with Joe. Initially, she was as surprised as the rest of the women, that he didn’t immediately leave the lounge after finding out about the hen party. He’d said he would stay and keep watch for trouble with her. A queer buzzing sensation started in the pit of Kyra’s stomach, making her feel uneasy.
She remembered questioning his motives. Why would an outsider stay in a room full of klutzy women he didn’t know? It didn’t make sense when he made the offer, and now it was starting to make her feel sick.
Her thoughts shifted to her emotional melt-down in the garden restaurant when he’d asked her whether she was staying or leaving the party. She’d thought that his question was prompted by good manners and concern. Maybe it wasn’t about arranging a lift home for her. Then only moments later, he went on to proclaim himself a black knight, who’d had a history of relationship hemorrhages.
A spy and a black knight sounded like kindred brothers. The strength was starting to drain out of her body as she recalled the direct questions she’d asked him. Why was he shadowing her? He’d said she was the only one who could change the outcome of the party. Why did he care about the consequences of the hen party? Why was Elin on his mind?
I dare you to ride out the storm at the party with me, he’d said. She didn’t need any more evidence—Joe had a motivation for arriving and staying at Elin’s party.
The ring of truth in Maddy’s claim vibrated through Kyra’s head with a devastating roar. “Denise, I think you’re right about Joe being a spy.” Her limbs turned weak and floppy to the point of collapse. “I feel queasy. I have to sit down.”
“Susie, get Kyra a drink, she’s fallen hard and fast for TDH,” Denise said.
The redhead nodded and scouted off to flag down the waiter at the bar.
Kyra headed for the table where she’d left her handbag and slumped down on the seat. Joe, the masterful spy, had taken her for a bimbo he could manipulate to fulfill his agenda. While he was glued to her side, he’d snooped around the lounge to find out what was going on at the party so he could report back to Marco.
Denise sat down in the opposite chair. “So where’s the mole?”
Kyra rubbed her hands over her stomach. “He’s left the Ainslie.”
“Are you sure he’s not coming back?” Denise folded her arms on the table and leant forward. “Maddy put the party on hold while we waited to see if our tart dramas had shocked him enough into leaving.”
Kyra sat back against the wooden seat to brace her spine. “He flew into Perth earlier this evening. He must have driven from the airport straight to the Ainslie. He told him me he was leaving to check into his city accommodation.” And wait for me to join him. She rearranged the folds of her dress over her thighs and dug her fingers into the chiffon until her skin pinched into points of pain. He would be waiting for the end of the world to arrive before Kyra went to bed with him now.
“There you go, champ. Enjoy.” Susie placed the rum cocktail on the table in front of Kyra. Then Susie sat down beside Denise.
“Maddy will be pleased that her game plan worked,” Denise said. “She was relying on you to keep the mole’s attention away from Elin, and at the same time trying to help you get over your man problems.”
A strange, garbled sound left Kyra’s throat at the revelation that Maddy had deliberately set out to couple her with Joe. She’d succeeded with incredible results.
Denise slid the glass closer to Kyra. “You did a fab job getting rid of him. Drink up, sister. Get the color back in your cheeks.”
Kyra took a large swig of alcohol to wash down the bitter lemon taste in her mouth. “Did Maddy dish out the tart tips and undo the top of my dress to use me as a piece of meat to snag Joe’s interest?” Kyra’s voice was a quivery shambles.
A guilty look passed across Susie’s face. “We all used you, but hey, Elin was our excuse. Maddy said you’d understand someone attractive had to bait the fetching mole and lure him away, or the party was over.”
Kyra’s hand shook as she reached for her glass again. “I don’t understand how she could deliberately humiliate me to play a game with a spy,” she said, her anger rising. “Why didn’t Maddy use her natural charm to chase Joe out of the hotel?” The evening was a living nightmare, a horror showcase of her dysfunctional relationships with the Henriettas and men.
“Yeah…she has a way of fixing serious man problems by grabbing her hockey stick and going after the dude’s balls. It usually scares them away for good,” Denise said. “But nah, she didn’t bring her hockey stick to the party, didn’t think she’d need to use it with a bunch of girlfriends.”
Susie laid a hand on Kyra’s arm. “Take it from me. You were a convincing hot mess. Joe swooped on you and forgot about Elin and Sergeant Paul. Thanks to you, we defeated the spy. He took off to the car park with his tail between his legs.”
Kyra’s temper exploded. Joe had used her as a cover for his spying activities, and Maddy had treated her as a decoy to distract him. The pair of despicable human beings had played off sides so they could both get what they wanted from her. Could the night get any worse? Her head was cuckoo and her heart in tatters from the abuse of the two cunning schemers.
“This is what I think
of Maddy’s game plan.” Kyra leant across the table and swung her handbag into Denise’s side. “You’re a bunch of blood-sucking, fleabag disgraces.” She took another swing and then another.
The hockey player held up her arms in self-defense. “Eek… handbag attack,” she cried. “Someone help me, save me!”
Susie laughed brightly.
Kyra bobbed to her feet. “I’m out of here, bitches.”
“Sit down and shut up for a minute.” Denise yanked on Kyra’s arm to pull her back down to the seat. “Before you go off to hide and lick your wounds, accept our thanks for returning Elin’s party to her.”
When Kyra gave Denise’s tight fingers a slap, she loosed her grip. “Get out of my face,” she snapped.
Denise stood up. “Elin doesn’t know what you did for her, but the Henriettas saw the whole soap opera thing play out. None of us could have blindsided the mole like you did. You’re an awesome chick!”
Susie rose from her chair. “I reckon Kyra is a Luv Goddess, which is the top spot on the Henrietta Honor Board.”
“We should stop calling her Princess.”
“Yeah, I’ll go with that,” Susie applauded.
“Okay, from this night onwards,” Denise said in a posh voice, “Kyra shall be known as… Her Vadgesty.”
“Ma-ha, ha, ha, ma-ha ha…” Susie lost control of her cackles.
Kyra gave the two hockey clowns a death stare to send them on their way, and she didn’t blink until both of them high-tailed it to the bar. Then she emptied her tall glass and gazed at the French doors, waiting for the alcohol to numb her ravaged head and soothe her injured heart before she went to find Elin.
“For you, babe,” a guy said out of the blue. A hairy, masculine hand with midnight blue painted fingernails slid another cocktail glass across the table toward her. “Your friend, Maddy, ordered you a drink to cheer you up,” the uber-cool waiter said.
“Wonderful,” Kyra jeered.
“Sure thing,” he said, his gaze fixed on her chest.