Crazy Bitch (Bitches and Queens)

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Crazy Bitch (Bitches and Queens) Page 2

by Rachael James


  Hannah stood and walked her to the door. Once it was closed, she let out a deep breath. After she was certain Willow had exited the building, she let out a piercing, loud screech. Feeling only slightly more relieved, she walked over to her desk and sat back down. After six long months, she finally had her. Of course she had her—she had all but handed Willow her life’s dream on a silver platter. Who could possibly refuse? Let the games begin.

  Later that afternoon, Hannah met Sam for lunch. In the middle of October, it was a perfect day for their favorite outdoor café. After the waiter disappeared back inside the restaurant with their orders, she looked up and found him watching her with a quizzical expression.

  Hannah frowned. “Don’t say it.”

  “Say what?” Sam teased. “I was just thinking that the last time I saw you eat anything that wasn’t green or brown, and plucked straight from the earth, we were in grade school. You look radiant, by the way.”

  “I look like a fucking plus-sized model. I started eating six months ago, and I haven’t stopped since. I’ve gained twenty pounds. Last week, I flew out to L.A. and some paparazzi snapped my picture. Now, I’m on goddamn bump watch. How ridiculous is that? Me of all people, pregnant. And what the fuck am I supposed to do with these?” Hannah hissed as she grabbed her breasts. “I prayed for a rack like this when I was twelve, but now, at twenty-seven, it is just absurd. I thought there was a cut-off date for puberty.”

  “Are they real?” Sam asked as he stared at her breasts.

  “Of course they are real! I am on hiatus—not trying to make a splash in the porn industry.”

  “Well, I think they’re lovely, but I’ve always been a fan of breasts,” Sam said as he sipped his glass of water. “Speaking of your hiatus, have you made any more progress?”

  “I did,” Hannah said with a coy smile. “Only this morning, I interviewed a fabulous intern. You would love her.”

  Sam sat his glass of water on the table as he silently watched her. After so many years together, he knew exactly how her slightly twisted mind worked. “No,” he denied flatly. “The only person I’m fucking these days is Kate, and I guarantee she’ll never let you watch.”

  “Ah, Kate,” Hannah murmured.

  “Don’t start, Hannah,” Sam warned.

  “Kate is a saint,” she denied with wide-eyed innocence. “She would have to be. If you bailed on me while I was dying in the hospital, I wouldn’t be so quick to forgive you.”

  “I didn’t bail,” Sam grumbled.

  “Sorry,” Hannah apologized. “Perhaps bailed isn’t the right word. Maybe I should have said, while you went off on a four-month cocaine binge.”

  “I had my reasons for leaving. You know that. Kate knows that too,” Sam exclaimed angrily. “The reason I invited you to lunch was because I wanted to tell you that I asked Kate to marry me, and she said yes.”

  “Congratulations,” Hannah chuckled. “Who knows, maybe the third time will be the charm for you both?”

  “Hannah, this is important to me. I don’t want you to do anything that might ruin it,” Sam warned with a lethal chill.

  “Me?” Hannah hissed. “I won’t have to do anything. You’ll manage to fuck it up on your own. Just like you did the last time.”

  “All of that is in the past, and I mean it. If you do anything, if you say anything that might ruin this for me, I will expose you. The whole world will know all your dirty secrets.”

  Hannah started to reach for her glass but stopped. For a moment, she eyed her old friend, and was shocked to realize that he fully intended to do just as he promised. It hurt more than she anticipated, yet a small part of her swelled with pride. Her baby boy was finally ready to leave the nest. Knowing she had taught him all she knew, she decided it was time to let him fly away, but he wouldn’t escape without one final dart.

  “Contrary to what you think, I’ve only ever had your best interests at heart,” she started. “I’m just concerned is all.”

  “There is nothing to be concerned about.”

  “If you say so,” Hannah shrugged. “I just find her sudden forgiveness a bit much to believe. I know you had your reasons, but they were shit reasons. I told you that then. I just know that if were me lying in a hospital recovering from heart attack while you were partying your way across Europe, I wouldn’t have said yes. Unless…”

  “Unless what?” Sam questioned defensively.

  “Unless I was setting you up for a fall,” Hannah said quietly.

  “Not all women are vindictive bitches like you,” Sam growled.

  “Yes they are. Some are just better at hiding it.”

  After their lunch, Sam had planned to go back to his studio, but instead went to his condo where Kate was working from home. She seemed surprised to see him. Although he of all people should know better, Hannah had gotten to him. Vicious and cruel, the damn woman was a menace to society. He thought for the ten-thousandth time in his life, Why am I friends with her? Privately, Sam used to wish Hannah would meet someone who could beat her at her game, until he realized it would never happen. Hannah would never be beaten. She would destroy herself first.

  “Hey, I didn’t expect you until later,” Kate called out with a wide smile and then grimaced. “How was your lunch?” Unlike Hannah, Kate didn’t even try to pretend she liked the other woman.

  “Hannah grew boobs,” Sam said.

  “What?”

  “I know. I was just as surprised as you,” he said as he walked over and sat on the couch beside her.

  “That wasn’t what my ‘what’ was for. Why did you notice?”

  “It was hard not to,” he said as he held his hands out in front of his chest.

  “Yuck,” Kate groaned. The last thing she wanted to think about was Hannah or her breasts. They were probably fake anyways, just like the rest of her. “You came home in the middle of the afternoon to tell me about Hannah’s boobs?”

  “No, that was just a side note. I just wanted to stop in and see how you were doing.”

  “I’m good,” Kate said suspiciously.

  “You’re good?” Sam questioned.

  “Yep, good,” Kate reaffirmed.

  “You mean that?” Sam questioned. “You’re really good? You are not just saying that now and later you’ll say you were awful and I should have known even though you said you were good?”

  “Good Lord, what did that woman say to you?”

  Chapter 3

  After her interview, Willow decided to stop by Mulligan’s, a downtown bar where her live-in boyfriend, Zachary Bell, worked part-time. He moved to Austin from Ohio three years ago to break into the music scene. His band, Z-Bells, was just starting to get their foot in the door, but he still needed to supplement his income. He told her more than once that he couldn’t wait until she got out of school and started working full time so that he could solely devote his time to music. Knowing what a fantastic opportunity this could be for her, Zachary was almost as excited as she was when Hannah called.

  The bar was nearly empty at this time of day. Zachary spotted her as soon as she walked in the door and called out loudly, “How did it go, babe?”

  “Good, I guess,” Willow squeaked with a shrug.

  “Did she cuss you out as soon as you walked in the door?”

  Willow laughed as she sashayed across the floor and sat down at the counter opposite him. “No, actually she was very polite.”

  On the way over, Willow decided that maybe the press had given Hannah a bad rap. She was a face—not a voice. Not that she hadn’t had her fair share of airtime. Unfortunately, whenever Hannah spoke on camera, it was usually so profanity-laced that every other word had to be censored. Perhaps they only aired her finer moments?

  “Tell me all,” Zachary teased.

  Willow proceeded to give him all the details as she munched on a stash of peanuts left over from the night before.

  “I don’t think she would go into all that ancillary crap if she wasn’t really interested. S
ounds like you’ve got this, babe. Let’s have a drink in celebration.”

  “I don’t know.” Willow shrugged about his confidence. Typically, she didn’t drink at this hour of the day but readily accepted the free longneck.

  “You never believe in yourself. You’ve got this. This is your moment. Shine, baby, shine,” Zachary exclaimed.

  Willow giggled at his exuberance. It was one of the reasons they made so much sense together. Every couple needs a dreamer and a realist. Zachary was the dreamer. He came to Austin with only two hundred dollars in his pocket and a set of pipes that could blow away the harshest critic. Who even does that anymore? Zachary did. He was the kind of guy that would chase his dream to the furthest corners of the globe.

  Another reason they worked so well was that monogamy wasn’t the right fit for either of them. Zachary would never be satisfied with only one woman, and he would never be able to fulfill all her needs. No man would. Years ago, when Willow first became aware of her attraction, she realized she was drawn to both sexes. If hard pressed, she would describe herself as mainly straight with an occasional gay inkling. Fortunately, Zachary not only overlooked her wondering eyes—he encouraged it. They met by happenstance a little over two years ago. Karma was definitely on her side that night as it had been the most fulfilling relationship she had ever had with either a man or woman.

  “There’s one more thing,” Willow said nervously and then explained the exclusivity clause.

  Zachary seemed to accept it with an intelligent-looking nod but then his eyes twinkled mischievously. “Well, it’s not like she would ever know. All priss and satin, a woman like that would never be caught dead at one of your performances.”

  “But…” Willow groaned. She needed Zachary to be one-hundred percent on board. She needed him to accept that for the next six months, she wouldn’t be dancing. The money was killer. In a single night, Willow could bring home what he made working part-time in six months. At a birthday party last year, some anonymous person left her a five-thousand dollar tip. But Willow didn’t want to spend the rest of her life dancing half-naked for a room full of horny strangers. “…if I do get this opportunity, and she discovered I had broken the contract, it could ruin me. This is Hannah Fairbanks we’re talking about here, one of the most famous supermodels around. She knows everyone in the industry.”

  “You’re right,” Zachary shrugged. “You’re right, babe. No worries. I’ll pick up a few extra shifts. We’ll be fine. So, is she as hot in person?”

  Willow knew where his one-track mind was headed. Straight down to a dead end. The thought of Hannah with her elegant, yet unearthly, beauty—she did almost resemble an angel with her platinum hair and gigantic, vivid blue eyes; the only thing missing was the wings—and Zachary, her Mohawk-sporting, tattoo-covered boyfriend, was almost laughable. Actually, Willow did want to laugh but held it in because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

  “Yes, she is, and no—that is never going to happen,” Willow said.

  “What?” Zachary shrugged innocently.

  “There was nothing in the contract about threesomes with my boyfriend,” she answered coyly.

  “Hey, what’s wrong with a guy dreaming?”

  “Nothing, just as long as you keep those thoughts in your head,” Willow cautioned. If, and it was a huge if, she got this internship, the last thing she needed was her boyfriend coming on to her boss. She would die of embarrassment. Hannah would probably die of embarrassment too, if she didn’t try to kick his ass first. Or maybe, she was used to that sort of thing? Either way, Hannah didn’t strike her as an overtly sexual being. They had only talked for a little less than an hour, but Willow definitely picked up on an ice queen sort of vibe. The more she thought about it, Willow realized she couldn’t imagine Hannah having sex with anyone. Not that it mattered much; Willow didn’t care who Hannah fucked as long as she gave her a glowing reference.

  A week went by. With each passing day, Willow grew increasingly gloomier—the very reason she tried not to get her hopes up—but it had been hard not to dream. Although she didn’t have any classes that afternoon, she went to the university studio to work on her designs. Normally, she didn’t mind working from the small, one-bedroom apartment she shared with Zachary, but they had called a band meeting, which was really code for a bunch of guys sitting around the living room getting drunk. Zachary said it was part of the creative process.

  To each their own, Willow supposed. She tapped into her creative well by listening to music as loud as her eardrums allowed. To counteract her blues, her iPod blared with a roaring rock tune. Staring down at her sketch, lost in her own little world, Willow wasn’t aware she wasn’t alone until she felt someone tap her shoulder.

  Startled, she jumped, turned around, and was even more surprised to find Hannah standing beside her. As she took the earbuds out, she heard Hannah say, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “It’s all right. I just wasn’t expecting anyone,” Willow said almost shyly.

  Willow could hardly believe she had come. Wearing some designer sequined shirt, black leggings, and stiletto heels, Hannah was the epitome of high fashion and towered over Willow’s five- feet-four inches by at least a foot. Willow self-consciously plucked at the neckline of her old t-shirt. With her hair pinned back away from her face and pair of faded, blue jean cutoff shorts, she began to feel downright shabby. Although she was thrilled Hannah was here, and by what she thought she might have to say, Willow privately wished she would have called first.

  “I was told I could find you here.”

  “I can’t believe you just walked in here,” Willow exclaimed with a bright smile.

  “Was I not supposed to?”

  “No, it’s not that. I’m just surprised you weren’t mobbed along the way.”

  “I’m used to that sort of thing,” Hannah dismissed with the wave of her hand. “Were you working on something new?”

  “It’s nothing,” Willow denied.

  Hannah leaned over Willow’s shoulder to look at the sketch. She took a step forward as her long finger reached out and traced the long, lean lines of the female drawing. “It looks like something to me.”

  “It’s just a new idea I’m playing with, but I haven’t figured out where I want to go with it yet.”

  Hannah moved her hand away and took a step back to look down at Willow’s face. “When you do figure it out, be sure to let me know. It will probably belong to me, if you are still interested in the internship.”

  “Oh my God! Are you serious?” Willow screamed excitedly.

  Hannah laughed. “I wouldn’t drive all the way here to tell you I picked someone else. I’m not that nice of a person. If you are free, I thought I could take you to lunch so we could work out the details.”

  “Yeah,” Willow gleefully agreed and then a frown started to pucker her mouth. “I look horrible. I don’t want to be seen in public with you.”

  “You look fine,” Hannah denied with a smile. “We’ll go somewhere quiet.”

  “It had better be a hole-in-the-wall. Otherwise, they will think you’re slumming,” Willow cautioned.

  “It wouldn’t be the worst they ever thought of me. Come on, let’s get out of here,” Hannah said.

  As they sat in the quiet, Tex-Mex restaurant, Willow had an out-of-body experience. She could hardly believe she was eating lunch with Hannah Fairbanks. A fashion icon, everything about her emitted style and grace. Even the way she held her fork was dainty and elegant.

  “Tell me more about yourself,” Hannah said.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything,” Hannah murmured. “I want to know everything. Start by telling me more about your unconventional childhood.”

  “My mother’s name is Lola Jane Mallory. She was the sweetest, most loving woman around,” Willow started.

  “Doesn’t sound too far off the beaten track to me,” Hannah said coyly. “What about your father?”

  Willow t
ook a sip of her glass of water and then put it down. “I didn’t know my father. I don’t even know his name. I don’t know if my mother ever knew his name.”

  “All right…” Hannah purred, “…the story grows more intriguing. Tell me more. Did you grow up in Austin?”

  “Yes, I’m a native. We moved around a lot when I was growing up. Sometimes we lived in apartments and trailer parks, but most of the time we stayed in shelters. My mother had serious health issues and couldn’t work. When I was sixteen, she died from AIDS-related pneumonia, and I was legally emancipated. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

  “How sad; I’m sorry,” Hannah said quietly.

  “It was sad to lose her so young, but she really made the most of her short time on earth.”

  Hannah looked down at her plate as she toyed with the refried caloric nightmare. “And now?” she questioned softly as she looked up and seared Willow with her bright blue eyes. “Are you still on your own?”

  “Not exactly. I live with my boyfriend, Zachary Bell. He works as a bartender downtown.”

  “Fabulous,” Hannah said with a smile.

  “But he’s in a band too,” Willow quickly rushed.

  “Aren’t they all?”

  Something about her words caught Willow off guard. It sounded a bit snide, but Hannah’s unblinking eyes were still filled with a wide-eyed innocence. Maybe she had just imagined it? “He’s actually very talented. His band is on the verge of a breakthrough.”

  “A rock star’s girlfriend, huh? Sounds exciting. How long have the two of you been together?”

  “A little over two years.”

  Hannah cleared her throat and reached for her water. “Two years?” she repeated. “Well, I hope he isn’t the jealous type.”

  Willow chuckled. “No, Zachary is the opposite of the jealous type.”

  “Good, because for the next six months—I will own you.”

  Own her? Willow didn’t like the sound of that. In fact, it sent a little tingle of apprehension down her spine. Surely, Hannah meant it figuratively. Didn’t she? Shaking it off, Willow decided her jumble of nervous excitement had made her paranoid.

 

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