Her Perfect Revenge (16 page)

Sitting in the breakfast room the next morning, Christina was reading the newspaper and having her coffee. It was almost 11 a.m. and her deadbeat, debauched fiancé was still in his room, sleeping. That was understandable, considering his all-night sex session with his country club slut, Christina jealously mused.

Eudora, the head maid, came in carrying a fresh pot of coffee. "And how are you feeling this morning, madam?" she sweetly enquired in her soft Irish accent.

"100%, thank you," Christina answered her.

"I'm glad, madam."

"Eudora, what was Bill like as a child?" Christina casually asked.

If you want to know anything in one of these grand houses always ask the servants and Eudora had been with the family so long that she probably knew everything. Maybe the maid would let some clue or secret slip? It was worth a shot.

"Oh, madam, little Billy was a wonderful child, so sweet and kind; very sensitive," Eudora gushed.

"Really?" Christina was surprised.

"Oh yes, mum. But he was always getting into mischief where Mr. Havenwood was concerned. Why I remember one time when…" And for the next ten minutes Eudora regaled Christina with stories of her ‘sweet’ little Billy's exploits in the house. Several were quite funny and Christina laughed in spite of herself.

Eudora continued, "And there was another time little Billy flushed all of Mr. Havenwood's silk ties down the loo." The maid laughed uproariously. "He couldn't have been more than seven, the holy terror. He said he wanted his dad to stay home and if he didn't have any ties, he couldn't go to work." She shook her head at the memory and smiled. "Why it took the plumber five hours to unplug it."

Christina laughed at that. Eudora was such a sweet old lady and Christina was developing a fondness for her.

The maid continued. "Oh my… was Mr. Havenwood furious with him that day." She then turned to Christina and became serious. "It's not my place to say, madam…but I'm saying it anyway. Master Bill is a sensitive soul and Mr. Havenwood never appreciated that about him but I know that you're good for him. You're strong and you'll be an ally to him in this house. He loves you very much, madam. I've seen the changes in him since your arrival. Together you make a good team and your love for each other will bring out the best in him. Now, I know he's had his problems…I'm not blind… but he's a good man with a good heart. Be kind to him. There, I've said my peace." Eudora folded her hands in front of her and nodded; as if she'd just gotten off her chest what she'd been dying to say for days now.

Eudora may have been sweet and nice—but she was no fool. She knew her little Billy was up to something regarding this 'engagement'. And she knew they weren't sleeping together, that was for sure. She knew who slept in what bed and those two were definitely not sleeping in the same bed. As head maid, she knew it all.

But she'd liked Christina on first meeting her. The girl had been so kind and respectful to all of the staff and there hadn't been a demanding diva bone in her body. That meant a lot in Eudora's eyes.

And when she'd seen how her little Billy had acted around the girl—so smitten—always asking where she was, if she'd come home, if she was all right, if she needed anything—and how worried he'd been when she'd been ill last night—well, Eudora thought, her little Billy had indeed been struck by Cupid's arrow and this girl was 'the one' for him.

Now, if they would only sleep together, everything in their relationship would right itself, she was sure of it! She wasn't too old not to remember the power of love.

Christina stared into the wise, knowing eyes of this little, sweet Irish woman standing so stoically in front of her—and she felt awful! This kind woman believed that her and Bill were in love and that she, Christina, would be the best thing in the world for him.

In reality, the opposite was true. She, Christina, wasn't here to 'love' Bill but to destroy him. And he didn't love her either. He was using her so that he could keep his sticky fingers in his father's bank accounts. No—there was no 'love' here.

"Thank you, Eudora. I'll…I'll keep in mind what you said," Christina stammered awkwardly.

Maybe she should have told the maid to mind her own business and that she didn't take personal advise from the staff but Christina wasn't like that. She couldn't be rude to this sweetheart. She knew Eudora only wanted to see her 'little Billy' happy.

The maid nodded again, satisfied that she'd spoken her mind and that the girl had listened. Now if they would only sleep together…

Bill walked in then—showered, shaved, and handsome as always—and a guilty Christina did something she would never, in a trillion light years thought she'd do. She got up, threw her arms around him and gave him a light kiss on those devastating lips of his.

She pulled back slightly and looked into his stunned eyes, "You're finally up, you sleepy head. I hope I didn't tire you out this morning."

Eudora, who was looking on, giggled at the display.

Christina bent her lips to his ear and whispered softly, "Make it look good for her."

Never one to miss an opportunity, Bill's mouth slanted into a lazy, sensual half-smile as he wrapped his hands possessively around her waist and said, "Why don't we go back to bed and find out?"

And before Christina realized his intent, his lips swooped down and captured hers in a soft, slow, deep kiss. Conscious of Eudora's scrutinizing gaze on them, Christina had no choice but to respond. At least, that's how her brain rationalized her passionate response.

Eudora giggled again. "Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone now. I'm sure you don't want an old lady hanging around." She teetered to herself as she left the room.

Christina heard her leave and she should have stopped the kiss right then—but she didn't.

She went on kissing the bastard…

For one bloody second too long…

But he was such a damned good kisser…

And he smelled so good…

Regaining her wits, Christina brought her spike heel down hard on Bill's instep.

"Ahhh…" he yelled as he pushed her away and started massaging his foot, "Was that really necessary?"

Still shaken up by how much she'd enjoyed his disgusting kiss, she backed away. "Yes, it was; you didn't have to take advantage of the situation."

"Advantage? You kissed me first, remember?" Bill poured himself a cup of coffee.

Sure, he'd taken advantage—and why shouldn't he? He'd enjoyed every electrifying, hot second of that kiss and he was going to take any crumb she'd throw his way. He wanted her that badly.

This had become more than just a scheme to stay in his father's good accounting books. He wanted her, plain and simple. That was becoming more important to him than even his father's money—and that scared the hell out of him.

Christina sat down and pretended to read her paper. She didn't want him to see how badly his kiss had affected her.

Nonchalantly, she turned the pages and replied, "I didn't want to disappoint Eudora. I like her and for some strange reason, she seems to think sun shines out of your ass."

Bill laughed as he sipped his coffee, "Maybe it does. Care to find out?"

"Watch it… you'll not only be drinking that coffee, you'll be wearing it too."

Bill laughed again as he reached for one of the newspaper sections. "Anytime you want to put on a show for Eudora's sake, please feel free. My body is at your disposal."

Suddenly, Christina's mouth hung open as she stared at a photograph in the newspaper. She turned furious eyes to Bill and screamed, "Oh my God!"

"What?" He quickly came to peer over her shoulder at the open newspaper on the table. There—on page six—was a picture of him carrying Christina in his arms outside the Fido Foods building yesterday. The caption read, 'Billionaire's Son's Shotgun Wedding!'

Christina began to read the blurb aloud under the photo. "Bill Havenwood, son and heir of billionaire industrialist, William Havenwood carries his bride-to-be, Christina Matteo to his car outside the Fido Foods building. Inside sources say that Miss Matteo fainted yesterday and had to be escorted out. She is pregnant with Bill's child and that's the reason for the quickie wedding that's to take place in a few weeks time at St. Patrick's Cathedral. Officials at the company had no comment and would neither confirm nor deny the report."

Livid, Christina zeroed in on Bill and stood up with such force that Bill jumped back as her chair toppled over. She grabbed the newspaper and shoved it at him.

"Do you know…how many people are going to see this? My friends, my co-workers, my cousins…my… parents?" She screamed the word "parents" at him.

"I thought you said your parents live in Florida?" Bill was staying calm in order to keep her calm. It wasn't working.

"Have you ever heard of a telephone?"

"Christina, it's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Not that bad?? Do you know how many explanations I'm going to have to make now? How many people are going to ask me about my pregnancy and my impending marriage… to an asshole like you?"

"Correction… a rich asshole. And I am taking responsibility for the baby by marrying you; that is something." Bill gave her a weak smile.

"This is all a big joke to you, isn't it? Just a good ole time, for a few laughs until you can get your hands on daddy's money."

"I never joke about 'daddy's' money," Bill calmly sipped his coffee.

"What am I going to tell these people? That it's all a scam?"

"You can't say that; we've got a deal." Bill was suddenly tense.

"I know what we've got. You think I want them to know that I would sink so low as to go along with a lying, scumbag ruse like this? Well, I don't."

Bill let out a silent breath of relief. He contemplated her anxious face. "I am sorry, you know."

"Save it." Christina turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Bill wasn't quite sure what she'd do next. Knowing her, as he'd come to know her these past few weeks, Christina Matteo was capable of anything.

"To plan our wedding, darling. I've got an appointment with your father's goddamned, wedding planner!" she screamed the words at him before disappearing out.

Bill looked at the newspaper photograph again. Yes, this certainly complicated everything. He again read the blurb under the picture. "Inside sources say…"

And who the hell were these 'inside sources'?

* * *

'Mr. Inside Source' was at that moment, sitting in his office, looking at that same newspaper picture of his son carrying his bride-to-be. He laughed to himself. He was brilliant; just brilliant.

And the part about the pregnancy and the quickie, shotgun marriage had been a stroke of Havenwood genius on his part. What a clever spin on the whole rotten affair!

Wonder how his conniving son had reacted to the picture this morning? And what about Christina? William was sure she'd have hit the roof and blamed Bill for getting her deeper in a mess that was only supposed to have involved the both of them and William.

He laughed again to himself. The pair of them were either going to crack under this new pressure or become stronger partners-in-crime.

William thought about it for a second. No, they'd crack. Christina would leave him—his son's scheme would backfire—and William would have the immense pleasure of throwing Bill out on his spoiled, soon-to-be-poor, ass.

What an afternoon she'd had! After Christina had stormed out of the breakfast room, she'd found Mindy, the wedding planner, waiting for her in the salon.

For the next hour, Mindy bombarded Christina with hundreds of questions about decisions that needed to be made for the wedding and the engagement party. How many guests? What menu would you like? Which flower arrangements? Which invitations? And on—and on.

Within thirty minutes, Christina had developed a major headache. She couldn't deal with any of it. This was all pretend and within a month's time, this whole thing would be called off anyway, so what did it matter which flowers or invitations or menus were chosen. It was all fake.

The wedding planner droned on and Christina had reached her limit. "Mindy?" she interrupted. "I'm sure William has given you a budget of what to spend for the engagement party and the wedding?'

Mindy nodded, "It's the first thing I always ask my clients."

"Good. In that case, I want you to plan everything. I… can't handle all this pressure, right now."

Mindy was aghast, "But my dear…"

Christina was firm. "No, I insist. You decide and I'll agree to it all. And as for the guest list from Bill's side, you can get that from William and as to my side of the family, just leave me some blank invitations, about 20, and I'll mail them out myself." She was going to throw them in the garbage, that's what she was going to do.

"Are you sure, my dear?" Mindy was still unconvinced.

"Yes; this will be such a relief to me." Christina gave Mindy her sweetest smile.

The planner nodded sympathetically. "All right, then. But you'll have to go for your gown fittings and pick out your china patterns."

"That I'll do; I promise."

After Mindy had left, Christina had gone back to her room for a nap. Her headache had gotten worse and she really needed to rest. But that's when the phone calls began. One after another, her cell phone never stopped ringing.

First, it was Jenny wanting to know what was going on about the photo, then some of her Italian cousins called and then some of her work colleagues. The only call she didn't get was the one she dreaded most—her parents.

The calls came quick, all congratulating her and wanting to know about the 'baby'. The baby part she told them wasn't true, only a rumor spread by the newspaper but she accepted the wedding well wishes with gratitude. What else could she say? She couldn't very well deny that too and have it get back to William?

This was all that creep's fault, Bill Havenwood! He had screwed her over in high school and he was doing it to her again.

This had to be the worst mess she'd ever been involved in. She'd had to lie to friends, family and co-workers. Everyone was now expecting a real wedding and they'd all begged for invitations, considering it would be one of the social events of the season.

She was marrying into New York royalty, they'd told her; and what a lucky girl she was, they'd told her; and her husband-to-be was one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, they'd told her; and get a good lawyer before signing any pre-nups, they'd told her…

Ohhhh—that bastard!!! He had it coming—and she was going to deliver!

* * *

Jenny was gushing over Christina's engagement ring that she'd slipped on her own left hand. The diamond glistened in the small apartment.

"Is it really worth $250G's?" Jenny asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes," Christina sighed.

"He must like you a lot to trust you with something like this," Jenny surmised.

"But that's the whole point; he doesn't trust me. I had to sign over my life in that blasted contract if I should ever lose it," Christina frowned.

Little 8-year-old Taylor came over, "Can I try it on too, Aunt Chrissy?"

"Of course you can, honey."

Jenny interrupted, "Later, darling. Right now, you go set the table. Mommy has to discuss something important with Aunt Chrissy."

Taylor's face showed disappointment as she disappeared into the kitchen. Jenny pushed Christina down on the couch and plopped herself down beside her.

"Okay, I want major details. Have you seen him naked yet?"

"Jenny! What kind of question is that?" Christina had already told her friend everything that had been happening except for her physical attraction to the sleazeball.

"Is he big or small? I betcha he's big."

"Jenny!"

"Come on, Chrissy, you're living together. You're bound to have seen him naked."

"We have separate bedrooms and separate bathrooms. Why would I have to see him naked?"

Jenny gasped, "Oh my God, he's seen you naked?"

Christina laughed. "Nobody's seen anybody naked."

"Oh." Jenny was disappointed. "Have you kissed him yet?"

"Jenny!" But this time, Christina blushed and her shrewd friend caught it.

"You have!"

"He kissed me, all right?"

"And you kissed him right back, didn't you?" Christina remained silent. Jenny smiled and continued. "I knew it. I knew you liked him on account of how much you hated him."

"Jenny, stop this. He's a super rat, alcoholic scumbag and you of all people know what he did to me."

"You had a crush on him in high school before he pulled that prank on you, admit it."

Christina wasn't admitting anything. "Everybody had a crush on him back then; even you."

"Not me. I liked his buddy, Jake."

Christina was shocked. "Jake Monroe? That drunken idiot?"

Jenny nodded, "He was cute. Has Bill ever mentioned him now?"

Christina shook her head. "No. They've probably lost touch over the years."

"Probably." Jenny took a moment to assess her friend. "I know you Chrissy better than you know yourself, so you listen to me. Love and hate are the flip side of the same coin. Be careful which side you land on; I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Jenny, stop being such a mother hen."

"And if you like him and you think he likes you, grab him. I saw his face in that newspaper today. He wants you badly, mark my words."

Christina was skeptical. "And you could tell all this from a blurry newspaper picture?"

"Of course; men don't carry women like that unless they really care for them. So forget about all this revenge business, forgive him for the past and marry the prick for real. He's a good catch."

"Marry Bill Havenwood?" Christina burst out laughing. "Oh Jenny, you're crazy!"

* * *

Driving the BMW back to the mansion that night, Christina was still laughing to herself. Marry Havenwood for real? What an imagination Jenny had!

Bill Havenwood was a drunk, lazy, good-for-nothing womanizer that never showed up for work—even his own father said so—not to mention the fact that she detested him and had vowed revenge on the idiot.

But on the plus side? Wait—there was no plus side.

Okay, he was rich but he wasn't really. His father was. And that meant he and his 'wife' would always have to dance to the old man's manipulating tune.

Okay, he was drop dead gorgeous but looks fade over time. The heavy drinking and constant partying would probably take their toll and he'd end up bald and fat—and still drunk.

There was this physical attraction thing she seemed to have for him. Every time she was within his orbit, she felt an intense magnetic force that pulled her to him. It disgusted her, of course. How could she be attracted to such a slime?

And this morning—when she'd kissed him for Eudora's sake—she really shouldn't have done that. But she'd acted on instinct—and every instinct in her body kept wanting him.

What would sex with him be like, Christina wondered, as she let her mind wander? Probably incredible; and delicious; and hot, if his passionate, sweet kisses were anything to go by. She gave herself a small shake. Yuck—now she'd grossed herself out!

Stop it, Cristina. You have a job to do. Focus on that.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the slip of paper she'd found in Bill's jacket pocket when she'd been snooping in his bedroom last night.

1625 Shelley Avenue, it said.

Okay, she wasn't too far from that area now. It might be a good time to go and have a look. What was 1625 Shelley Avenue and what did it have to do with Bill Havenwood?

* * *

1625 Shelley Avenue was an old, empty, abandoned warehouse.

Christina parked the BMW under a streetlamp for safety purposes. This wasn't the best part of town and it was almost 10 p.m. at night. Stepping out of the car, she began to take pictures of the building with her camera.

Approaching it, she peered through the dirty windows.

Not much in there. She could make out an old desk and several chairs. The rest of the cavernous interior was bare.

She moved to one of the doors and pulled. It was locked—of course.

Why would Havenwood have this address in his pocket?

Was his father's company thinking of buying it? Did they own it already? Was the property it sat on valuable?

Taking a few more pictures, a disappointed Christina went back to her car. This had been another dead-end. Damn!

* * *

It was almost 11 p.m. and Cristina turned onto the road that led to the Havenwood mansion. Getting closer, she suddenly spotted Bill's Jaguar zooming out of the front gates and accelerating away. Where was he going again at this hour? Pressing her foot on the gas, Christina took off after him.

Keeping a safe distance behind other cars, she followed him into the city, undetected. But city traffic was heavier and Christina soon lost him. The Jag disappeared.

Where had he gone? And why was he always going out at night—sometimes at 7 p.m. and sometimes at 11 p.m. Was he seeing his snooty girlfriend? Was he drinking, clubbing and partying with friends?

What was really odd, though, was that not once, since she'd been at the mansion, had she seen him come home drunk. She'd never even smelled any alcohol on him. If he was partying, he hid the effects very well.

Well—whatever he was up to, she was going to get to the bottom of it—no matter if she'd have to spy on the louse 24/7.

She pulled a U-turn and headed back to the mansion.

What Christina didn't know was that there'd been a mysterious car following her all night long too.