Her Perfect Revenge (4 page)

It had been such a stupid, stupid, stupid thing to do. Last month, Christina had used the money allotted for her car insurance to pay for her rent. She'd never done that before but the funds she'd earned on a photography assignment hadn't arrived in time. Her insurance had been due but so had her rent. And she didn't have enough to pay for both. So—she chose.

She chose wrong.

Her insurance had expired and she shouldn't have been driving. But she'd been expecting that assignment check any day now and she really didn't think anything was going to happen.

Christina stared straight ahead at the damage on both cars. This accident was clearly her fault. How was she ever going to pay for all of this? Her savings were nil and her cash flow was poor—very poor. But all thoughts of money quickly evaporated when her eyes flew back to '
him
' approaching her car.

And he was getting closer—

And closer—

And closer—

And all at once, Christina was fourteen again—that shy, scared fourteen again with everybody laughing at her—including 'him'. Especially
'him'!

Bill Havenwood stuck his head into Christina's half-lowered driver's window.

"Are you all right?" he inquired. Deeply concerned, his eyes ran over Christina's face and then down her body, looking for signs of injury. He was clearly shaken too.

Christina, with her hands still clenched on the steering wheel, slowly turned to look at him. His face was inches away and her eyes glued onto his. Did he recognize her? Did he? No—there were no sparks of recognition. Suddenly, he was speaking again.

"Are you hurt?" Worried, Bill looked her over again. "Do you feel any pain? Can you move?" he anxiously asked.

Wide-eyed and in shock, Christina just kept staring at him. His eyes were greener than she remembered but that arrogance was still stamped on his handsome, movie star face. Or was that the confidence that came with maturity?

"Do you… know… your… name?" Bill was speaking very slowly now.

"I… I…" Christina stammered, too mesmerized to say anything else.

"You… what?" Bill tried to encourage her.

Christina just gave him another blank stare. Her brain felt like it was in a fog and she couldn't put a complete thought together. What was the matter with her? Why couldn't she snap out of it?

"That's it." Bill stepped back from the car and pulled out his cell phone. "I'm calling an ambulance." He started dialing.

As soon as Christina heard the word 'ambulance', she snapped out of her trance. She was fine and she knew she didn't need any medical attention.

"No," she blurted out.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she reached for the handle and tried to push her door open. But the frame had been bent and the door wouldn't budge. She gave it a hard push with her hand but it was stuck.

"I don't need an ambulance," she shouted at Bill who was calling 911. "I'm fine." She kept pushing at the door. "I'm okay."

Bill lowered his phone and approached Christina's car again. "What did you say?"

"I said I'm fine." And with that, Christina gave the door one good shove with her foot. Violently, it swung open and hit Bill full on in the chest and groin area.

"Ahhhh." Screaming, Bill dropped the phone and hunched over in extreme pain. Within seconds, he collapsed onto the pavement and curled up into a fetal position, all the while hugging his private parts.

Bewildered, Christina jumped out of her car and stood over him, looking down at his writhing, Armani-clad body.

What should she do? Help him up? Comfort him? Loosen his tie maybe? But thoughts of concern lasted only a nanosecond before she remembered who this guy was. He was her avowed enemy—the target of her revenge plan.

Suddenly, she smiled to herself. Served him right. In fact, here at her feet, was the great Billy Havenwood and she loved it. She wasn't that gawky, insecure fourteen year-old anymore. She was a thirty year-old woman who was older, wiser—and stronger. And she was going to be the one in control of this situation from now on, not him.

"Sorry," she mumbled, but she wasn't one bit sorry. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm… fine." Bill whispered breathlessly, as he used her smashed car hood for leverage and slowly stood up. "I—just need a moment to catch my breath; that's all."

Christina bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. Here was the great Bill Havenwood slumped over her car hood because she had hit him—accidentally, of course—in the billionaire family jewels. Oh, who would have thought her revenge could have begun so quickly?

Suddenly, an ambulance appeared on the scene along with the police. A crowd of onlookers had circled around them by now and the emergency vehicles had a difficult time trying to get through. Christina waved at them.

"Over here; someone's been injured." She pointed to Bill was slowly straightening up away from the car.

"No, I'm okay." Bill limped a few steps as the paramedics came rushing over. One of them put his hand on Bill's arm.

"Sir, where are you hurt?" he inquired.

"I'm fine, really."

Christina butted into the conversation using her 'concerned' voice. "No, you're not fine." She addressed the paramedic. "I think he hurt…" Christina lowered her tone and pointed to Bill's groin area, "…his package." A few of the women onlookers snickered. None of the men did.

Bill gave an embarrassed laugh. "Nothing to worry about." He took a few more tentative steps. "See? I'm walking it off."

"Sir, if you'd like to go to the hospital?" The paramedic wasn't convinced.

"No… no hospital needed; really."

Inside, Christina was laughing to herself. Was Billy's face actually turning red? Beet red? Yes, it was. Uncomfortable, was he? Well, she'd only just begun. She turned back to Bill.

"Maybe you should go. Have them take a look."

Bill turned to her. "I think… you've done enough, thank you," he gritted through his teeth.

Raising her shoulders in a 'whatever' gesture, Christina walked to where the two cars were sandwiched together and where a police officer was already inspecting the damage. She looked down at the mangled mess. How was she ever going to pay for this?

Her junk-heap-of-a-car was totaled—a complete write-off. And his expensive red Ferrari? Well, the backend had been flattened like a tortilla—and she didn't have any insurance to pay for any of it. But did she care? No. In fact, it was even funny. This was the funniest, damn thing she had ever seen in her life.

Suddenly, Christina burst out laughing—and she couldn't stop. Her attitude was irresponsible, crazy and mad; she knew it. And she also knew that she'd cry about this later on; but right now, the enormity of her predicament and its consequences had been shoved to the back of her mind. She was on such a high for having got the better of Bill Havenwood that nothing else mattered. She was just going to enjoy the moment.

Bill stared at Christina in amazement. She was laughing? She was actually—laughing? He'd met some crazy women in his time but this one was a true wacko—even if she was beautiful and attractive—and very hot.

He approached her in disbelief, still limping all the way. "What's so funny?" he piped up.

Christina tried to stem her giggles. "Delayed shock or something." She looked back at his car. "Sorry about your—car.” She burst out laughing again.

Bill followed her gaze and looked down at the Ferrari. For the first time since the accident, he saw the extent of the damage. Earlier, he'd been too preoccupied with whether this crazy woman had been hurt or not that he hadn't even taken a good look, but now that he had—

"Oh my God, my car!" Bill was stunned. "Look at what you did to my car."

Christina stopped laughing but still couldn't help smirking. "It was an accident."

"It's… it's… unbelievable!" Bill's voice began to rise with astonishment and anger. "There must be thirty, forty thousand dollars worth of damage here."

"What!" That wiped the smile off of Christina's face and it suddenly wasn't funny anymore. "You can't be serious."

"This is a Ferrari. Do you have any idea what repairs and parts cost on something like this?" Bill was now yelling.

"It wasn't my fault," Christina started to yell back.

"Oh, it was your fault, all right. I was stopped and you hit me. Where, in the hell, did you think you were going?"

"I… I didn't see you. There was a van blocking my view and…"

Bill put his hands up, stemming her words. "Lady, I don't need this today, of all days." He looked at his watch. "Great, now I'm late too." Angrily, he turned back to Christina. "Thanks a lot, sweetheart." Limping back to where he had dropped his cell phone earlier, he picked it up and dialed. "Hi Charlotte, it's me. I know I'm late but tell the old bastard that I've just been in a car accident." He pulled the phone away from his ear but kept talking into it. "What? I can't hear you. The phone's breaking up." He slammed the phone shut, then limped back to where Christina was standing.

Flabbergasted, Christina looked up at him. "There's no way this'll cost thirty, forty thousand dollars. You're just trying to s… scare me."

"Think so? Now why would I do that?" Bill was very irritated. This had not been a good day for him so far and it wasn't over yet.

"Because… you're mad I ruined your stupid car and… and…" The full impact of what had happened finally hit Christina like a shovel to the face. Thirty to forty thousand dollars? It couldn't be! Where was she going to get that kind of money?

"And what? Look at it. Look at my car. You know, I think it could even go as high as fifty grand." Bill shook his head as he reached into his wallet for his driver's license.

"Fifty…?" Christina's eyes wandered back to the smashed, red metal. She was in trouble; serious, serious trouble. Trouble like she'd never been in before. What was she going to do?

Bill looked over at Christina and saw how badly shaken she suddenly seemed to be. Maybe she had been hurt in the accident after all? He should really calm down and find out.

He didn't even know why he was yelling. Sure, his car had been smashed but it had happened. Yelling about it and making a scene wasn't going to change anything.

His tone of voice softened and he put a comforting arm around Christina's shoulders. "Maybe you should sit down and have one of the paramedics look you over."

Christina looked at his hand touching her arm and she flinched. Billy Havenwood was actually touching her; pretending he was concerned about her welfare; pretending to be nice. What a phony!

"Hey, I don't need your sympathy," she spouted. The tough, in-control Christina was back.

Bill let go of her as if he'd just touched a hot stove. Raising his hands up in surrender, he backed off. "Sorry, it won't happen again." Miffed, he walked away to where one of the officers was standing.

Another police officer, Officer Robbins, a twenty-year veteran, approached Christina. "Ma'am, can I please see your driver's license and insurance?"

"S… sure." Christina went back to her own mangled heap and grabbed her purse. She handed her license over and waited anxiously for the next question.

"And your insurance, please?"

A huge lump of fear suddenly lodged in Christina's throat. "Well… I… don't have any." She quickly shut her eyes as if that would save her from any fallout.

Officer Robbins, who'd heard and seen everything, calmly shook his head; and silently began to write in his notebook.

"Did I hear right?" Bill's voice boomed through Christina’s thoughts. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see him standing in front of her with his arms folded over his chest.

"You don't have any insurance?" he asked again incredulously.

Christina squeaked out a little, "No."

With anger flashing from his green eyes, Bill turned to Officer Robbins, "I'm not paying for this."

"Sir, please calm down."

"This wasn't my fault."

"Sir, please."

Bill shut up and Officer Robbins walked away to his squad car to call into dispatch.

Taking in a calming breath, Bill stared at Christina. "Who doesn't have insurance? Everybody has insurance. You can't drive without insurance," he asked.

"I was going to pay it; but I didn't have enough money. Somebody like you…" Christina gave him a disgusted up and down appraisal, "… would never understand that."

"Oh, I understand, all right. I understand you should have been taking the bus."

She couldn't argue with him there—but she was going to anyway. "I don't appreciate your tone of voice."

Stupefied, Bill laughed out loud. "Tough." This was one crazy, beautiful loony bird, he thought to himself.

Christina raised her chin in defiance. "In fact, I think you owe me an apology."

"I owe you what?"

"An apology for your rude behavior just now." Christina knew she was pushing it too far but she wasn't going to let him get the better of her no matter what she had to say.

Bill shook his head as if to get the cotton balls out of his ears. "You want me to apologize to you? To you?"

"Yes."

"Honey, it ain't gonna happen." Bill couldn't believe her gall. If he weren't so angry, he'd almost have to admire her. "Let me ask you something? What do you do for a living?"

"What's it to you?"

"I'm just curious how you're going to pay for this disaster." Bill pointed to the wreckage.

Christina held her head up proudly. "I'm a photographer."

"Like for babies and puppies?"

"No, I'm on assignment right now for Streetwise."

"What's that?"

"It's a local magazine."

"Streetwise? Isn't that the newspaper you get at clubs—for free?" Bill emphasized the word 'free' as if it disgusted him. He shook his head. "A starving artist with no money. Well, I guess my insurance company will be suing you for damages then."

"Probably." Christina lifted her nose in defiance.

"Oh—you can bet your sweet little ass they will." Suddenly, he flashed her a confident smile, giving her the same head-to-toe appraisal she'd given him moments earlier.