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"Here," said Vaughan, draping a checked button-up shirt over my shoulders. "Put that on."
"I thought your luggage got delayed."
"Yeah. I lied. Didn't want you covering up."
"Ha." I smiled. Then I stopped. "I am sorry about all this."
He shrugged. "Had nothing else planned for tonight. What're they all up to?"
"Ah, well," I said. "Ray is on the phone to his lawyer trying to best assess how to destroy me while doing damage control to preserve the good Delaney family name. Samantha, meanwhile, is over there busily trying to push your friend, Officer Andy, into hauling me away in cuffs for assaulting her son."
"Shit."
Chris looked up, giving me a truly malevolent look. Hate filled his bloody face. To think I'd been about to marry the asshole. At any rate, no matter the provocation, the chances of him letting me get away with hitting him were nil to none. His pride would demand I be punished.
No, he was just letting me stew with this show of deliberation. Jerk.
To think I'd believed all of his sweetness and light for so long. I really needed to bang my head against a brick wall at the earliest opportunity. Try and knock some sense into myself.
Paul tugged on his arm and they returned to their intense heart-to-heart. They actually made a nice-looking couple, Chris with his dark hair and chiseled face, and Paul with his Nordic good looks. Pity about the general acts of bastardry surrounding the entire affair.
"Why hasn't he, do you think?" asked Vaughan, studying all the people standing in his front yard.
"I honestly have no idea."
"Hmm." He huffed out a breath. "You've got shit taste in men, Lydia."
"Understatement of the year, babe."
He gave me a half-smile. "How's your hand doing?"
"Swollen and sore." I turned it this way and that, letting him see. My knuckles were a delightful chunky blue-black. "But I think it's just bruised."
"Matches your cheek."
"Lovely."
He trudged down the front steps, hands in his jeans pockets.
I slipped my arms into Vaughan's shirt, doing my best to cover my womanly assets. Wondered if jail was anything like on TV. Guess I'd soon be finding out. A shame I hadn't kept the ring. Pawning it to pay for my legal defense would have been beautifully ironic. Whatever happened, I was done being the resident fool for the Delaney family. Dumb was never cute.
"Lydia." Ray stalked toward me, stopping at the bottom of the couple of stairs leading down off the small front patio. "You're fired, in case that wasn't clear."
Asshat. "Am I, Ray?"
He puffed himself up, preening. Lucky one of the buttons on his shirt didn't pop. "You punched a work colleague, Lydia. One who just so happens to be the boss's son. You do the math."
I nodded. "You're right, I did. Speaking of which, what do you think my chances would be of suing Chris for fraud and emotional distress? Guess I should talk to a lawyer too."
"What?"
"Goodness, what a scandal that'll be. The folks in this town are going to be talking about this mess for a good long time, aren't they?"
The lines around his mouth looked cavernous in the early evening light. "Are you trying to blackmail me?"
"You really want to start digging into the ethics of this situation? I don't know if that would be wise for any of us, Ray."
He growled into the phone for another minute. When he faced me again, he was not a happy camper. "Some sort of settlement might be reached if I was assured that video would never again be seen. It would also involve you keeping your mouth shut about anything to do with my family."
"I also want a reference reflecting my prior work history as opposed to today's unfortunate events."
"All right."
I tipped my chin. Accepted. "I'd also prefer it if your son chose not to press assault charges."
"I'll see what I can do." With a frown, Ray looked to his wife, not Chris. Big surprise who held the reins in that marriage. Not. His wife was a Harpy Queen of Darkness if I'd ever seen one. The chances of me not getting a criminal record tonight were slim.
At any rate, the Delaney's had oodles more money than me if it came down to duking it out in court with regards to my emotional distress, et cetera. Best just not to go there. Doubtless, Ray would destroy my reputation any other way he could. The doors of CDA's social elite would be closed to me now. They'd trash talk me all over town and I'd probably never find work.
However this went down, CDA and I were done. A pity, I'd liked it here. The town had a nice vibe and it was neither too big nor too small. What with the lake and the hills, the town was insanely beautiful. For me, it'd been just right.
Oh, well.
There was always my possible looming stint in jail for punching Chris to look forward to. I should try to be positive. Perhaps I'd just get community service or something, a fine. I wonder if I'd be deemed a flight risk and locked up regardless.
God, when I actually started thinking it over, my options were terrifying. The skin on my arms goose pimpled despite the warm evening air. One small tiny miniscule part of me even regretted punching Chris.
No. Never. I'd reclaimed what little remained of my pride by walloping the douche. My hand throbbed in agreement. Sometimes, violence and mayhem just were the answer.
CHAPTER SIX
"Oh good," said Vaughan in a dry voice. "You found tequila."
He and Officer Andy stood by the dining table. Both staring down at me with disapproving eyes. Little did they know how ridiculous and pompous they appeared. People, so blah. Especially men.
"Yeah, turns out we didn't have to go next door after all." I smiled. "There was some hiding at the back of your pantry."
"Was there?"
"Hope you don't mind."
"Not at all."
"You know, I was thinking about all those celebrity mugshots you see in the magazines where they're a hot mess," I said from my seat on the floor in the corner of the kitchen. "And it occurred to me that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me to really go all out there and experience the moment to its fullest."
"Really?" he drawled.
"Absolutely. Life is short, Vaughan." I grinned. "And short or not, I intend to get one."
"One what?"
"One life. Just the one. I'm not greedy."
"Right." The dude did not look convinced. Gosh, I liked him. He was so pretty. He and his cock were the highlights of my day. After a few more drinks I might even tell him in great rambling detail. What fun. Wonder if he'd let me take a picture for my wallet. Of his face, of course.
"I'll replace the booze," I said. "I promise."
"I'm more worried about your liver than the booze." He walked over, liberating the bottle from my hand and taking a sniff of the stuff. "Surprised it's still drinkable. My sister left it here years ago. It was cheap shit then, can't imagine it's improved."
"It's a little rough on the palate."
"And you're drinking straight from the bottle? Classy."
"I didn't want to put you out by dirtying a glass."
"Kind of you." He took a slug and winced, screwing his whole face up. "Christ, Lydia."
I sputtered out a laugh. "It's not that bad."
"It's fucking awful."
"The first few mouthfuls were the hardest, it's true. But after that, the lining of your throat goes numb. Or it's burned away," I hastily amended. "I'm not really sure which."
With a dubious look, Vaughan handed me back the bottle. Then he took up position standing beside me, legs crossed at the ankle, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter. Despite all of the people invading his house in their wedding finery, he'd remained relaxed. Bare feet, skin a couple of shades paler than his arms. Loose threads hanging from the bottoms of his old blue jeans.
For not the first time, I wondered about him and his dramas. If possible, I should help. God knows, he'd more than earned any and all assistance. Few people would have been so understanding.
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Officer Andy shifted on his feet, running a hand over his military-short blond hair. Obviously getting impatient. It'd been a long day for everyone.
"When you're ready, ma'am," he said. "I'd like to explain to you the situation as it currently stands."
"Explain away." I sat up straight.
Officer Andy continued, "The good news is, Mr. Chris Delaney has decided not to press assault charges against you."
"What?" My whole body deflated, sagging back against the wooden cabinetry in relief. I'd have done a victory lap of the house had I been able. "He has?"
"Yes."
"Oh, sweet baby Jesus. Thank god for that." Down went the tequila. Down my throat, that is. Holy hell, the stuff was potent. I wheezed as delicately as possible, covering my mouth with a hand, tears flooding my eyes. "Why isn't he?"
"I discussed the situation with them thoroughly," he said, gaze serious. "With circumstances like this, it's not unusual for people in the heat of the moment to get carried away. Once they've had some time to reflect upon everything that's at stake, the full ramifications of the conflict, they often change their minds about taking any action."
"Huh."
"Yes, well, Vaughan also pointed out that pursuing charges against you would likely raise interest with local media," reported Andy, almost as an afterthought.
I looked up at Vaughan.
"Still got a few friends at the local radio station." One of his shoulders rose nonchalantly. "Would only take a call."
"Really?"
He reached down, seizing the bottle. "No big deal."
"No big deal? You kept me out of jail."
"Eh." He took another swig of tequila, cringing only slightly this time. "Couldn't have them carting you off to the big house. We've made plans to hang tonight."
"You're the best," I whispered to Vaughan, my hero.
