by Mia Ashlinn
The situations reversed rapidly, and Shannon beamed. “I would love that.”
Apparently realizing that she’d strayed away from her duty as a waitress, Melissa blushed furiously. Her face turned three shades of red. Clearing her throat, she inquired, “What would you like to drink this evening?”
After ordering drinks, they went ahead and told Melissa what they would like to eat. They also explained that they had three more people coming to join them so she could just hold off having Stellina make the food.
Once Melissa sauntered off, scribbling on her notepad, Katie-Anne grinned. “So, girls. What are we going to do?”
“Someone sounds mighty eager,” Jaycee commented as she shifted in her seat. Throwing one arm over the back of the booth, she angled her body toward Shannon and Katie-Anne, before sitting back with a smirk.
“Like you’re not,” Shannon countered.
“Touché.” Jaycee wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m always eager.”
Talk about the understatement of the century. Ignoring Jaycee’s bawdiness, Katie-Anne leaned down and reached under the table for her purse. Awkwardly, she unzipped her handbag with one hand then retrieved the tiny notepad and pen she’d stuck inside as a precaution.
Rezipping the bag, she then sat up straight and dropped the pad on the table. She flipped open the front cover and shuffled through a few pages before finding a blank one. Removing the cap from the pen, she doodled on the paper.
“So…” Katie-Anne began, trailing off deliberately. “Where do we want to start—looks, power, or money?”
“As much as I want everyone to see what a grotesque crone she is,” Shannon said. “I want to go after this mysterious sugar daddy of hers. What was his name again?”
“Marvin,” Katie-Anne supplied. Not surprisingly, she remembered the abhorrent name of the rich, powerful man that Leila had been fucking while dating Shane. She wasn’t likely to forget. She only wished that she’d gotten to hear his last name. That would have been immensely helpful. But no, she’d shot her mouth off before she’d gotten the entire story. Damn it. Me and my fucking sharp tongue.
Reappearing with their drinks, Melissa set them each down then drifted away, leaving them alone again.
Jaycee lifted the glass in front of her, sipping from the apple juice she’d ordered. “Did you get his last name?” she asked as she returned her cup to the white linen-covered table. “I didn’t.”
Katie-Anne shook her head. “No.”
Furrowing her brow, a look of deep concentration settled over Shannon’s pretty features. Then out of the blue, she gasped. “You don’t think…”
“What?” Katie-Anne and Jaycee both asked at the same time, turning their attention to her fully.
“Her parents are regular investors in politics,” Shannon said, stating something everyone in town knew.
Jaycee frowned. “Yeah. And so?”
“They have a friend,”—interrupting herself, she air quoted—“who was just elected senator.”
“Oh my fuck,” Katie-Anne screeched. Half the restaurant gawked at her and the other half pointedly avoided looking in her direction at all. But she couldn’t bring herself to give a damn. She was too busy having a mild heart attack to worry about anyone else. “As in Marvin Radcliffe?”
Holy hell. Surely not. Even Leila couldn’t be that stupid. Marvin Radcliffe was a politician with a squeaky clean image. He projected everything a good politician should.
Frankly, he gave Katie-Anne the creeps. The older man was too…he was too everything—too rich, too charming, too perfect. But most of all, he was too powerful. If Leila had decided to become involved with him, she was in way over her head. And the three of them had better keep their lips zipped.
“No way,” Jaycee breathed. “That’s…I don’t even know what to say that is.”
“Listen,” Shannon snapped. Leaning forward, she rubbed her chin as though thinking carefully before speaking. “He fits the description she gave in The G Spot earlier this year. Think about it. He’s got a lot of things going for him, especially money. He’s a nasty old fucker. Marvin Radcliffe fits that perfectly.”
Are you kidding me? Katie-Anne didn’t realize that she’d spoken until Shannon growled, “No.” She glowered at Katie-Anne. “I’m not kidding. I really think it’s him.”
“You have no proof,” Jaycee reminded Shannon. A distant look appeared in her eyes as she seemed to be thinking hard. Her brows snapped together, and she reclined back in her seat. “That is all circumstantial evidence.”
Shannon nodded. “It is, but wouldn’t it be worth it for us to look into it?”
“Then what?” Katie-Anne asked. She had to know where they were going with this line of hypothesizing. It wasn’t like they could tell anyone. That would be insane. “We can’t go to the press with that kind of story, even if we wanted to.”
“Why not?” Shannon inquired as she picked at her nails like she always did when she was nervous. “She would do it to us. Hell, she ratted you and Ella out.”
Despite what Shannon said, Katie-Anne knew that her friend would never do something that drastic, that mean. She might despise Leila. She might want her the hell out of Serenity. But she wouldn’t lower herself to that level. Besides, there was one person who would get caught in the crossfire if they did go to the press.
All Katie-Anne had to say to Shannon was one name. “Lainey.”
“Fuck,” Shannon snarled as she slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “I didn’t think about Lainey. Our wallflower friend is already the redheaded stepchild. The last thing she needed is more shit from Leila or her family. Or, hell, anyone else who decides to treat her like crap.”
Jaycee nodded. “I don’t know how she’s related to any of those psychos.”
“Me either,” Katie-Anne replied.
“Well, shit,” Shannon snapped. “Back to square one, girls.”
Chapter 11
With a huge grin on her face, Ella strutted into Dolce Serenità’s dining room flanked by her close friend, Adeline, and her older sister, Reagan. Keeping her head held high, her shoulders back, and her chin jutted out, she proudly worked her way through the crowded restaurant.
Weaving around circular tables covered in pure white linens the color of a magnolia in full bloom, Ella heard the click-clacking cadence of her trademark hooker heels hitting the marble floor. The chit-chatting patrons she passed drowned out most of the annoying rhythmic strikes.
Nodding her head occasionally to the people she recognized, Ella continued to smile, despite the slight burn in her cheeks. She was practicing for tomorrow. Once the news about her husbands hit the stands, she would be smiling like an idiot until the stupid scandal blew over. That could be days or weeks or, hell, it could be even months—depending on how long it took for another person in Tinseltown to fuck up. With the press as fickle as it was, her unorthodox marriage would be yesterday’s news when something bigger and better came along.
“Good girl,” Addy crooned. “You’re getting better and better at all this fake shit.”
Ella shook her head in amusement, a smirk tilting her lips upward. If anyone knew what she was going through, it was the pint-sized redhead next to her. As one of the leading ladies in Hollywood, she’d had her fair share of run-ins with the paparazzi. When it came to dodging, diverting, and dealing with the press, Addy was a fucking professional. And since they were friends, she’d taken it upon herself to be Ella’s personal scandal coach.
On her other side, Reagan snorted. “You sound like you’re praising a dog, Adeline. Should I see if Noah and Nathan have a dog bone for my baby sister?”
Addy stopped dead in her tracks. Ella could almost hear the screech of her friend’s heels skidding to a stop. “They’re not here, are they?” she asked, a slight panic ringing in her voice.
Standing mere feet from their table, Addy scanned the room with wide brown eyes, obviously looking for Micah’s two brothers—Noah and Nathan. “Shit,” she
snapped, her strained eyes connecting with the two brothers she and Reagan had a rivalry over, the two men they both loved to hate.
Reagan smirked. “Mmhmm, they are.” She openly pointed to a table dominated by two large, dark-headed men, despite the fact that Addy had clearly already found them. “You can’t miss them. Over there,” she told Addy. “They’re going to be a few feet from us all fucking night. How lucky are we?” Waving her middle finger at the two men, Reagan kept up her wild-child ways. She grinned evilly and called out, “Noah! Nathan! Darlings.”
The two men’s heads came up as soon as they heard Reagan. Predictably, Noah’s eyes shot straight for Addy while Nathan’s drifted toward Ella’s sister. But their looks lasted for a fraction of a second. Then they coldly dismissed Addy and Reagan, glancing away from them and looking at Ella. Smiling, they waved at her before returning to the pile of pasta on both their plates and resuming their avid discussion.
Addy’s cool, composed demeanor slipped. Her face flushed, and her smile faded. Muttering, “Evil, pumpkin-faced bastards,” under her breath, she took the last couple of steps separating the three of them and the booth with Jaycee, Shannon, and Katie-Anne. She climbed into the seat and wiggled to the side, giving Ella plenty of room to sit next to her.
Accepting her friend’s obvious offering, Ella piled into the seat next to Addy, and her sister straggled in behind her. Smashed close together, Ella winked audaciously at Addy. “Oh, baby, move a little closer.”
“Shit,” Jaycee swore. “Are you girls going to get it on over there? If so, let me get a camera. I could make millions off you two boinking like beautiful bunnies.”
“You wish,” Ella quipped as she reached for her napkin. Hauling the thick yet soft fabric from the tabletop, she shook the linen loose then lowered it into her lap. Crossing her legs under the table, she sighed. “A sex tape between the two of us might actually trump my husbands’ scandalous relationship.”
“Whoa,” Katie-Anne practically yelled, throwing her hand out as though she were blocking an attack. “I know how you two are, and we don’t have time to go down that road. This is a business meeting. No conversational ADD. No dirty talk. No nothing.”
“Well shit, you guys are no damn fun,” Reagan grumbled as she slid toward the edge of the table. Gluing her eyes to Ella, she glowered ferociously. “I was under the mistaken impression we were here to plot the demise of Leila. If I’m wrong, I’ll just have to find something more entertaining to do.”
Clamping a hand on Reagan’s arm, Ella refused to let her leave. “We are. Now, stay in your seat and shut up, sister.”
Reagan grinned. “I knew I could count on you hellions to do something crazy.”
“You were just about to leave, birdbrain,” Addy reminded Reagan.
“Maybe I was just trying to hurry things along, beanpole bimbo,” Reagan sneered. “I’m a ‘get right up on that thing and ride’ kind of girl. No pussyfooting around for me.”
Ella shook her head and prepared to jump between the two sniping women, but she was cut off by Shannon’s “Enough!” Her friend cleared her throat then lowered her voice to a mere murmur and said, “We have things we need to talk about—big things.”
Ella frowned. She didn’t like the sound of that. Shannon’s version of big was more like God-fucking-zilla. With today’s events, she didn’t need—or want—to deal with anything huge. Well, other than my husbands’ dicks.
Shaking her head, Ella forced herself to focus on whatever Shannon was about to say. “You have the floor,” she declared.
But Melissa delayed their discussion when she breezed by their table, stopped, and then backed up. “Excuse me?” she asked. “Has everyone finally arrived?”
They all nodded silently. If the other women were like her, they just wanted to be alone so they could figure out what was going on and what they were going to do about it. Apparently sensing their urgency to banish her, Melissa quickly took their orders, jotted them down, then hurried away like her ass was on fire.
“Okay,” Ella repeated. “Now you have the floor.”
Gripping the stem of her wine glass, Shannon lifted her drink then gulped down the contents—all in one, giant swallow. She slapped her glass back down on the table with more animosity than Ella would have. Amazingly, the glass didn’t shatter. “We’ve got nothing.”
“What do you mean?” Reagan snapped. “That bitch has more skeletons in her closet than a fucking forensic anthropologist. All we have to do is find them then exploit them.”
Ella patted her feisty sister’s hand. “Cool it, tiger.”
Pulling her arm away, Reagan scowled. “No,” she snarled. “Leila hurt you, Ella. Now I want to see her hurt.”
For all her sister’s blustering and rebellious ways, deep down she had a heart of gold. And that meant Leila was on her hit list purely for hurting Ella.
“I don’t want to see her hurt,” Addy said. “I want to see her gone, and I think I know just the way.”
Wow. Wait a second. Rewind that.
“What?” Ella asked as multiple gasps and murmured exclamations reverberated around the booth. “You don’t really know Leila that well.”
“But I have some friends who do,” Addy replied, flashing a condescending smile. The demonic edge to her expression scared the pants off Ella. Yikes. I’ve never been so happy to be on someone’s side as I am right now.
Between Addy and Reagan’s unnerving aggression, Ella’s heart sped up. The ka-thumps multiplied frantically. Nervously, she gripped the napkin in her lap with sweaty hands. She wiped her palms then sucked in a shuddering breath. “Explain.”
“I went to this party last night at my director friend’s house. Apparently, his wife knows Leila.”
“What does this have to do with the price of tea in China, Addy?” Shannon snapped. “The Bitch knows a lot of people.”
“Yeah, I don’t see where this is going,” Katie-Anne murmured. Flipping her hair in clear annoyance, she glanced at Jaycee. They shared a fleeting look that Ella didn’t quite understand before turning back to them. “I don’t think any of us do.”
Jaycee shook her head. “Nope. No clue.”
“Patience is a virtue,” Reagan smarted off. “Do go on, Adeline.”
“My director’s wife used to work as a nurse,” Addy announced.
“Ooh, this is getting juicy,” Shannon declared as she leaned forward, watching Addy eagerly. “Tell me more, my friend.”
Jaycee elbowed Shannon. “Tell us more.”
Flipping off Jaycee, Shannon muttered, “What-the-fuck-ever.”
“Apparently, Leila wasn’t happy with Tari. She got her fired for supposedly stealing medications.” Addy huffed. “That poisonous viper had numerous procedures over the span of five years—some big, some not-so-big. After a while, she demanded more pain meds from Tari. When she wouldn’t slip her any extras, she got her fired.”
“How trustworthy is this woman?” Ella had to ask.
Addy shrugged, her thin shoulders rising and falling swiftly. “I can’t say for one hundred percent, but I really think she’s telling the truth. Why else would she lie? It wasn’t like we were really talking about Leila purposefully. She came up in our conversation about your relationship with Caedon and Micah.”
Aghast, Ella asked, “Why were you talking about us?” The words slipped out before she could call them back. She trusted Addy. There was no way in the world that she’d done or said something malicious. However, she couldn’t fight her own curiosity.
“She asked me to send you three a congratulatory message about how proud she was that you could stand up for what you believed in. I’ve been getting that a lot. At this rate, there’s going to be an influx of people moving into Serenity.”
“Oh,” Ella breathed. “That’s a shock.”
“I think you’d be surprised,” Addy said. “I’ve heard some interesting chatter over the last few months. But anyway, Tari just mentioned it in passing. We laughed about it, a
nd I filed it away to tell you later. I didn’t know how important that kind of information would end up being. I figured it was just something you guys could make fun of her for.”
“If it weren’t for the fact I’ve sworn to hate your guts, I would kiss you,” Reagan said cheekily. “But I did. So, oh well.”
Addy shot Reagan an annoyed look. “Back at you.”
“So, Leila’s having an affair with a married senator-elect who her parents are funding, and she’s had plastic surgery,” Shannon announced. “Now what the fuck are we going to do with that information?”
“What the hell,” Reagan screeched. Several eyes from nearby tables turned their way, including Noah and Nathan, but Reagan didn’t appear to notice. “Who’s she fucking? What senator-elect? Huh?”
Acting as though she hadn’t just declared their nemesis a home-wrecking whore who had to go under the knife to maintain her flawless face and svelte body, Shannon placed her hands on the table. Twiddling her thumbs, she revealed, “We have reason to believe that Leila is having an affair with senator-elect Marvin Radcliffe. She’s slipped up a few times and called her mystery lover by name. And if you think about it, she’s referred to how powerful he is and how he can pulverize us with a flick of his hand. Blah, blah, blah.”
Addy snorted. “She would pick a nasty old fucker.”
Covering her face with her hands, Jaycee giggled. A second later, Ella, Katie-Anne, and Shannon joined her in her raucous display of amusement. “Oh my God, that’s priceless,” Jaycee said between laughs. “That’s exactly what she called him a few months back.”
Ella nodded. “It is! She spat it like he was a piece of gum on the bottom of her shoe.”
“Surprise, surprise,” Reagan said snidely. “Everything is an annoyance to Leila. So why don’t we just take a page out of the cunt’s book and go to the press. They’d eat this story up.”
“No,” Katie-Anne replied with a vehemence that caused Ella to pause. “We can’t do that.”