Her Perfect Revenge (8 page)

Casually, with martini in hand, William walked back into the salon just as the happy couple was walking in through the French doors.

William smirked, "Why, there you two lovebirds are. I'd almost given up on you."

On seeing his father, Bill awkwardly slung his arm around Christina's shoulders and pulled her close to his side.

"We haven't seen each other all day." He glanced down and gave Christina a 'lover's' smile before turning back to his father. "You know how it is. Or maybe you don't?" He dared his father.

William sipped his drink while eyeballing his deadbeat son. "You're all wet," he smirked slyly. "What the hell happened to you? Christina push you into the pool?" He laughed.

Bill pretended to laugh too. "Don't be ridiculous. I fell in. It was an accident." Tension engulfed the room as they glowered at each other.

Both men knew it hadn't been an accident.

Christina was becoming uncomfortable with Bill's heavy, wet arm still wrapped around her shoulders. She could feel his heat emanating from his body into hers and she was suddenly aware of him as a living, breathing, attractive male.

And there was that pull again—like two magnets coming together. It was craziness. She must be going mad. And to top everything off, pressed up against the big lug as she was, her dress was getting wet from his still sopping suit.

Gritting her teeth, Christina plastered a fake smile on her face and looked up at Bill. "Darling, you're getting me wet."

Aware of his father's laser sharp focus on them both, Bill gazed down at his 'fiancée' and cockily replied, "I should hope so." He gave her a wink.

William rolled his eyes up as he continued to sip his martini and Christina gritted her teeth even more. "You should really go get changed," she continued. She pushed at him trying to get out of his embrace but had no luck. He was hanging on tight.

"She's right. You're dripping on my Aubusson rug," William piped in as he approached the couple and wrapped his arm around Christina's other shoulder. "Get changed and I'll keep my beautiful daughter-in-law-to-be company. We have so much to talk about." He gave his son a sly smile as he tugged Christina to his side.

Bill glared back at his father as he reluctantly let Christina go. "Be gentle… dad," he gritted. "Christina's not used to our family ways and I don't want you scaring her away."

"But of course, dear boy. I promise to be on my best behavior. This lovely creature has graced our home and I will do everything in my power to make sure she's treated… the way she should be… treated." William gave his son an enigmatic smile.

Bill was suddenly uneasy. He didn't trust this old bastard and he didn't want this girl hurt by the apocalyptic war that had been waging for years between his father and himself.

Bill lowered his eyes to his fiancée and gave her a little smile, "I'll be back sooner than you think… sweetie." He, then, gave William a tight smile before calmly walking out of the room.

* * *

The second Bill was out of the room, he raced towards the opulent staircase. He shot up the stairs, taking them two at a time, all the while unbuttoning his jacket and loosening his tie. Running down the upstairs hallway, he sprinted into his bedroom and started yanking off his wet clothes. No time to lose. Who knows what could be said down there without him.

He threw his jacket, pants, shirt, everything haphazardly around the immaculate, richly decorated chocolate brown suite as if he was stripping down to a fast forward button.

Naked, he started rifling in his massive closet for his dinner jacket and pants. He needed to hurry. His whole life could right now be exploding downstairs.

* * *

The minute Bill was out of the room, William, steered Christina to one of the couches.

"Please sit, my dear and I'll get you another drink." He moved to the drinks trolley and started pouring out another martini. He gave her a sly sideways look. "How long have you and my son been seeing each other?"

Poised and cool, Christina pasted a smile on her lips. "We've been seeing each other for three months."

William studied her as he approached with the drink. She's calm and composed, he thought to himself. Not a flinch or nervous tick. She had looked directly into his eyes and lied to his face with the expertise of someone like—well someone like himself—an accomplished, sophisticated liar. What talent! Oh—he liked this girl and his respect for her was growing by leaps and bounds. His moronic son didn't realize it but he would have his hands full with this one.

William gave her a wide smile as he sat down opposite Christina. "So for three whole months my son has been keeping you a secret. I wonder why?" he quizzed.

Christina sipped her martini and skillfully looked at him, "I don't think it was so much 'keeping it a secret', William. It was just that we, Bill and I, needed time to find out where the other one stood in this relationship… before we made any formal announcements."

"And did you find out?"

"Oh, I think we each now know where the other one stands," Christina cryptically replied. "And we're both going into this new phase of our relationship with our eyes open."

William smiled inwardly to himself. She's weaving the truth into her lies, he observed. How brilliant was that! A master's stroke. He couldn't have done any better himself. If he weren't playing dumb, he would have right now stood up and given her a standing ovation.

"Yes, that's so important… to know the temperature of the water before one jumps in," William nonchalantly replied, all the while coolly studying Christina.

"And I bet the water can get very hot around here," Christina remarked as she casually sipped her drink.

"What do you mean?" William was suddenly even more interested.

"Only that I know there's friction between you and your son. Bill has told me a little about it and I sensed some tonight," Christina parried. There take that, Mr. Havenwood Sr.!

She wasn't going to meekly sit here for who knows how much longer, waiting for that jackass-of-a-fake-fiancé to return and be grilled by his father as if she was on the witness stand. She needed that fool here to help her with her answers and for him to listen to what she was saying so that they could both keep their stories straight. And the only way to put an end to William's questioning, was by doing some questioning of her own back. Didn't they say that the best defense was a strong offense? Christina was no mouse and she was going to be the one in control of these two snarling tigers, father and son, not them in control of her.

She innocently continued, "You two don't get along?"

William gave a little exasperated laugh, "My son and I each think we're right. But we can't both be right, now can we?"

"And you think Bill is wrong?"

"Well, I'm not saying he's wrong; but one of us is and it isn't me." William finished his martini in one gulp. He knew what Christina was up to—the girl was giving as good as she was getting. Oh, she was definitely a formidable opponent and he liked that a lot. What a breath of fresh air to have come into this house! He smiled at her then. "What do you think, Christina? Which one of us is right then and which one's wrong?" There, let's see how she answers that one!

"Well, from what I can tell you're both right and you're both wrong."

"A cryptic answer for a cryptic question. What do you mean exactly?"

"Only that you're two very strong, stubborn personalities and you're each 'right' when discussing your own lives but both 'wrong' when discussing each other's."

William laughed uproariously. "How diplomatic of you." He was impressed and he was rarely impressed by anyone or anything these days. He was far too old and had seen far too much to be so. But this girl—she was different.

And she certainly wasn't afraid of him. He could tell. Everyone in his life was afraid of him—his employees, his business rivals, even his imbecile-of-a-son—but not this young lady. She didn't fear him at all and he found that invigorating. Christina Matteo was definitely a worthy opponent and he so loved the 'fight'.

Christina, on the other hand, was starting to feel a little hot under the collar. Oh—where was that idiot? And why was he taking so long?

* * *

The 'idiot' was, at that moment, flying down the staircase at breakneck speed. He had cleaned himself up as best he could and was wearing a black dinner jacket and pants, and white shirt and black tie.

Bill ran through the foyer and skidded to a stop at the closed salon doors. He steadied himself as he straightened his tie and ran his fingers through his still damp hair. He hadn't had time to run a hair dryer through it and the best he could do was just to comb it back. Luckily for him it was already drying in places. Unbeknownst to him, dressed as he was in black tie and slicked back hair, he looked liked a 1940's debonair, movie star hero.

Taking one last deep breath, he put his hands on the doorknobs and slowly turned them. The double doors parted and he nonchalantly sauntered in, as if he hadn't a care in this world.

His eyes quickly sized up the situation. Both his father and Christina were seated on opposite couches and seemed engrossed in each other's company. Oh, he prayed everything had gone all right.

William was the first of the two to see him. "So the prodigal son returns," he wisecracked.

Christina, having had her back to the doors, turned around and when she saw Bill dressed as he was, her stomach did a somersault. Bloody hell, the bastard was handsome, she thought to herself. But then again, most devils were. But why had her traitorous stomach fluttered like that when this Beelzebub had walked in? It was empty, of course. That's why. She hadn't had a thing to eat all night.

William and Christina both rose as Bill walked further into the room. Bill came to stand beside Christina.

"Everything all right, darling?" he enquired, as he studied her face for any signs of trouble or a secret signal or anything. He was worried.

Christina smiled at him, "Of course. Your father's been a perfect gentleman."

"I treated her with kid gloves," William piped in. "She's very charming, Bill, and very beautiful. You've found yourself a diamond in the coal, a jewel-of-a-girl." Oh—how he was going to enjoy challenging the both of them with this monstrous lie of theirs. What fun!

Bill was wary. "Then you approve of us getting married?" he questioned, placing a protective arm around Christina's shoulders.

Christina's stomach fluttered again. Damn it! What was wrong with her? She needed to remember who this was—

Billy Havenwood, High School Bastard—the one who'd been responsible for the most traumatizing day in her life and who was now forcing her to participate in one of his devious schemes for his own benefit—that's who. Don't be fooled by the looks of the outside of the package, it was the inside that mattered. Beautiful garbage—that was what Bill Havenwood was; and she needed to remember that. Christina's racing mind was pacified.

She focused back on the conversation between father and son. William was speaking.

"Why, of course, I approve. To think that one day soon this house will be filled with grandchildren." William approached Christina. "Welcome to the Havenwood family, my dear." He bent and kissed her on both cheeks. "You are exactly what I needed." His eyes became watery.

Christina was surprised by this show of emotion from William. Was he about to cry with happiness? "Thank you, William," she accepted.

Bill had also seen the unshed tears in his father's eyes and was stunned. His father never cried! In fact, he never remembered having seen him cry. Never. You have to have a heart to cry and his father didn't have one. But hey, if his impending marriage brought tears to dear old dad's eyes, that could only mean one thing. Bill was back in the Havenwood billion-dollar fold. He was secretly elated and he smiled at William. "Christina and I are very happy that you're happy, dad."

William pasted on a phony smile. The glistening eyes with unshed tears had been a nice touch, he thought to himself. At least those theatre days in London when he'd been a teenager hadn't gone to waste. And the best way to win in any game was to disarm your opponent with kindness and acceptance—a trick William had used successfully many times in business. Then as soon as your adversary has let his defenses down, you go in for the kill.

Who the hell did his brainless son think he was dealing with anyway? William was almost insulted to think that his son believed him to be that stupid to fall for such a scam.

Getting married indeed! His son was an irresponsible, alcoholic, hard partying, hard living mess who would never come within sniffing distance of marriage. Marriage would put a crimp into that boy's lifestyle. After all, how would he explain a wife to all of his many slut girlfriends?

William graciously smiled at the couple again. "Shall we go to dinner then?" he invited politely.

The gilded, ornately decorated dining hall was as impressive as the rest of the house. It had been decorated in French Rococo style and the massive dining table could have easily seated twenty. Seventeenth century Dutch paintings hung from the walls, and taste and elegance abounded everywhere.

Fine bone china and sterling silver flatware adorned the antique table. Two silver candelabras sandwiched a centerpiece of fresh flowers and the lights from the candles glistened off of the crystal glasses. The room was not only a feast for the stomach but also for the eyes.

William was seated at the head of the long table. Bill was sitting on his left and Christina to his right, allowing the couple to face each other. The shrimp cocktail appetizers had been served and the trio had just begun to eat.

Bentley, the stogy butler, was pouring wine into their glasses. As he approached Bill's glass, Bill quickly covered the top with his hand and stopped him.

"No thank you, Bentley. I'm driving Christina home later."

"Very good, sir." The butler nodded and moved away.

Christina had witnessed the little exchange and was surprised. That drunk Billy Havenwood had actually refused alcohol? That was something she'd thought she'd never see.

And when had drinking and driving ever stopped him before? She remembered all the stories she'd heard in school about his legendary drinking and driving exploits—disgusting as they were—and that had been before he was even old enough to drive! Maybe tonight, he was trying to impress his father by being on his best behavior. Yes—that was it.

But William had noticed nothing. He was completely focused on Christina. "My dear Christina, you're already doing me good. I can't remember the last time my son and I actually sat down together for dinner," he observed, as he popped a shrimp into his mouth.

"Fourteen months, twenty one days and…" Bill looked at his watch. "…Sixteen hours," he commented in a blasé voice.

William cocked an enquiring eyebrow at him as if to say how the hell would you remember that? Bill sarcastically smiled at his father, "The dinner party you gave for the Latimers? It was over a year ago."

"Well, well, well, so it was; a whole year." He quickly turned back to his daughter-in-law-to-be. "Christina, can you believe that? My son and I haven't dined together for more than a year." He gave Bill a look of disgust. "And yet I'm home practically every night. After putting in a hard days' work, I don't have the energy to go gallivanting elsewhere."

Bill pretended to ignore the cutting remark about his lifestyle as he aggressively started attacking his own shrimp cocktail.

Christina studied the two. What a pair they were! The room was practically suffocating with bad karma. And here she was—stuck between them—in a disaster of titanic proportions that was just beginning.

She swiveled to William, "William, you have an incredible home. It's lovely."

"Why thank you, my dear but I'm afraid all the credit belongs to my dearly departed wife."

Shocked, Christina eyed Bill. "Your mother is dead?"

A pregnant three-second pause permeated the room.

Damn, damn, damn, Christina thought. She'd made a mistake; a big one. If she were truly Bill's fiancée, she would know whether his mother was alive or not.

"She lives near Phoenix. That's dad's idea of a joke," Bill replied. Oh no, he thought. Had his dad caught that one?

William had indeed caught ‘that one’. He pretended to be confused as his gaze wandered from one to the other and back again. He chose to focus on Bill, "My dear boy, you've been dating for three months and you've never told your fiancée whether your mother was alive or not? But how can that be? These are things lovers talk about when they first get together?" William gave his son his complete attention as he waited for an answer.

Another three-second pause swept the room as Bill's thinking processes froze. Christina, on the other hand, began to smile inwardly. At first, she'd been shocked by her faux pas but then she remembered she was here to get revenge on this nightmare-of-a-man. And although she may have agreed to his devil's one-month bargain, there was nothing in it that said she was supposed to make it easy for him. Christina innocently looked at Bill, waiting for him to bail them out of this predicament.

William persisted, as he scrutinized his son, "Well?"

Bill turned to Christina, "But darling, I've told you about mother. About how her and dad divorced five years ago and she went to live on the commune in Arizona? Don't you remember?" Bill's eyes implored her to agree with him.

He was sweating again, Christina thought to herself. How wonderful! She turned to William, "You know, I completely forgot. Bill did tell me. It must have slipped my mind with all the excitement of getting engaged." She turned back to Bill. "We'll have to invite her to the wedding, honey bunny."

"Of course, sweetie pie," Bill readily agreed.

William turned back to Christina, "Yes, it's true. My loon-of-an-ex-wife left all this to go live like a hippy in the desert. How crazy is that?"

"Maybe the desert's not as hot as hell?" Bill cracked slyly, as he bit into a shrimp.

"If this is such a 'hell', then how come you're still here?" William tersely responded.

"Because I'm the devil's son. It's in my blood to stand the heat," Bill angrily shot back and the two glared at each other.

The tension was suddenly broken when Bentley and an under butler walked in to serve the main course of beef bourguignon, steamed green beans and mashed potatoes.

They expertly removed the appetizer dishes and served the meal before quietly disappearing. Both father and son slowly turned away from each other and focused on the hot food in front of them.

Christina casually speared a green bean and addressed William. "Bill mentioned that you owned Fido Foods. It's unbelievable to think that dog food did all this?" She let her fork sweep the luxurious room.

"Yes, isn't America wonderful? I came here with nothing but I worked hard and I made something of myself."

Ignoring his father, Bill addressed Christina, "Fido Foods is my father's flagship company but he owns many, many others. He's a very busy man."

William gave his son a sideways dirty look, "Yes… and unfortunately industriousness is not hereditary."

"Maybe it skips a generation?" Christina slyly piped in as she dug into her mashed potatoes.

William burst out laughing. "My sentiments exactly," he said. He turned to his son and poked him in the arm. "She's charming, absolutely charming." He was almost giddy with excitement.

Christina could tell by the sour expression on Bill's face that he didn't appreciate her catty remark. Good. She was here to stir things up anyway.

She addressed William again, "They say that behind every great fortune there's a great crime. Is there, William? A great crime, I mean?"

The room fell silent. Bill stopped midway to putting a forkful of beef bourguignon into his mouth and smirked at his father. "More like many, many smaller crimes instead," he cracked sarcastically.

William looked from one to the other. Silence. Suddenly he burst out laughing again and he was laughing so hard that he had to dab his wet eyes with his napkin.

"Oh Christina, pardon my French but you do have balls."

His laughter subsided as he gave Bill a dirty look. "At least one of you will have them in your marriage." Bill glowered at his father but didn't say anything. William turned back to Christina. "Tell me, Christina how did you and my son meet?"

"I was coming out of Bloomingdale's loaded with packages. I didn't see Bill on the sidewalk and we kind of crashed into each other."

"And I picked her up… literally and figuratively," Bill interjected. "I took one look at Christina and knew I was in love. She was the one for me."

William raised a skeptical eyebrow at his son before turning to Christina. "And what about you, my dear. I suppose it was love at first sight for you too?

"No."

Bill choked on a green bean and both father and fiancée stared at him. He took a sip of water and tried to push it down his throat.

Christina continued, "What I mean to say is it wasn't love for me right away but he was so persistent, that it came on gradually. Before I knew it, I was involved." She gave Bill a small, tight smile.

William took a sip of his wine. She was doing it again—twisting the truth with the lie. How clever this girl was.

William's eyes scanned the both of them. "Like a bad rash, you mean? You don't know it's there until it starts itching?"

Christina laughed, "Something like that." She refocused her gaze on her fiancé. "And then when Bill proposed, I had no choice. I had to say 'yes'. Who knows what my life would have been like, if I'd said 'no'."

Oh, she is good, William thought as he continued to sip his wine and watch the two of them. His useless son was no match for this smart female.

"Tell me, Christina, are you marrying my son for his money?" There—let's see how she answers that one, William thought, as he put a spoonful of beef bourguignon into his mouth.

Bill nervously looked up from his food. Oh no—how was she going to answer that one without sounding fake if she denied it or greedy if she acknowledged it?

Composed and collected, Christina gave William an unruffled sideways look. These two bozos were not going to fluster her—no matter what was thrown her way. That was a promise to herself.

"Of course," she replied, as she too calmly put a forkful of the beef concoction into her mouth.

"How interesting," William's head swiveled in his son's direction.

Bill uncomfortably glowered at Christina. "Dad doesn't know you're joking, sweetheart." He gave her a secret eye signal as if to say 'what the hell are you doing?'

"But I'm not, my love." Let him panic, Christina thought. She swiveled her gaze back to William. "What I mean to say is that I do… love… your son very much, William and the money is just a part of who he is." God she'd almost choked on the word 'love'.

Relieved, Bill gave his dad a small smile. "She loves all my parts."

"Even the defective ones?" William quipped.

"You mean the ones I inherited from you?"

"Not bloody likely. More from your mother's side of the family, I'd say."

Bill turned to Christina. "Mom's side is more… fun."

William refilled his glass as he also addressed Christina. "Yes… the crackpot side. Let's hope your future children… my beautiful grandchildren-to-be… don't get stuck with those rotten genes." He sat back in his chair and perused Christina. "So my dear, you're marrying for love and money. Blunt, honest and to the point." He gave Bill another forceful jab to the arm. "I do like this girl."

Christina laughed. "Now the real question you should have asked me, William was this. If my little love pot over here…"

she cagily glanced at Bill, "…were to lose everything tomorrow, would I still marry him?"

The room went silent.

Intrigued, William quipped, "And would you?"

Bill's eyes darted nervously to her face. What the hell was going to come out next out of that perfectly shaped, luscious mouth of hers?

Christina let him sweat it out for a few seconds more before answering. "Of course, I would. How could I resist a handsome face like that?" She gave her fiancé a little laugh. Bill visibly relaxed and Christina continued as she addressed him directly, "Besides we don't need money, darling. We have our love to live on."

Bill pulled at his collar as if it was suddenly strangling him. "That's so romantic, lovebug. I wonder where Bentley is with the dessert?"

William snickered. He was having a blast tonight. Although this girl may have struck a devious bargain with his lying, idiotic offspring, it was obvious she wasn't going to make it easy for him. Attuned to every flinch, fidget and nervous tick from his son, William was in heaven. Oh—if only he could have had this entire evening videotaped so he could have replayed it over and over again!

At that moment, Bentley, the butler walked in with a bottle of French champagne elegantly cradled in a sterling silver ice bucket.

"Ah… time for a toast," William announced.

As Bentley began to pour the champagne, he reached for Bill's glass and Bill again stopped him, covering the crystal flute with his hand.

"No thank you, Bentley," he said.

"How can we toast to your impending nuptials without champagne?" William demanded.

"I'm driving Christina home later."

"Oh, don't be daft," William rudely interrupted. "One sip won't make a difference, not to your pickled constitution anyway."

Slowly, Bill removed his hand and Bentley filled his glass with the bubbly.

"Now…" William raised his glass high in the air as he stood up. "A toast to the happy couple."

Bill warily looked at Christina before standing up too.

Slowly, Christina followed suit and pasted another phony smile on her lips. God—how much more was she going to have to endure this evening?

William gave a big grin as he focused on Christina. "My dear, you are a breath of fresh air that has swept into this old house and I approve most heartily. For once, my son…" he gave Bill a look of disgust before turning back to Christina, "…has done something right."

"Gee thanks… daddy," Bill, sarcastically, piped in.

"Shut up," William barked at Bill before again turning to Christina. He raised his glass even higher in the air. "To Christina and to your upcoming marriage. May it bring the both of you all that you wish for—love, joy, togetherness…" he slyly eyed them both before continuing, "…honesty, truth and intimacy."

Christina squirmed a little as she suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. Love, honesty, truth, intimacy? These were the things that real lovers would be toasting to and here she was—toasting to a big lie. Maybe this wasn't right—lying like this, fooling this old man? Maybe—?

And then she turned her gaze to Bill—and suddenly, she remembered everything. Billy Havenwood, revenge and the accident money she owed him, that's why she was doing this. And she was determined to go through with it no matter what it cost her—no matter what.