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Hanging up and tossing my phone onto my bed, I feel my heart pounding in my chest, all of my blood rushing from my head to the very tips of my toes.
It’s five-thirty by the time I finish sorting through the last few boxes. Shit, that went fast. There’s a knock on my door just as I’m going through my selection for Devon’s party that I recklessly told him to throw.
“Come in!”
“Sorry, Isa, I was just checking to see if you needed any help?” Ash says, her frown and somber eyes a dead giveaway that she found out about Bryant’s and my fight.
“Ah, so you’ve heard about Bryant kicking me out?”
She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I did. I can’t believe it.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, finally finding the perfect two-piece black dress. I’ll match it with fishnet tights that have little diamantes scattered throughout the stitching and some black-red bottom thigh-high boots.
I’m not fucking around tonight.
I toss them onto my bed before turning to face Ashley, who’s still standing at the threshold, looking confused. “Say, Ash…”
She brings her blue eyes to mine.
“Ever been to one of Devon’s parties?”
Her fingers twist together. “Oh, no. I don’t think Bryant would like that.”
“Fuck Bryant. You’re coming.”
She nibbles on her lip nervously. “I don’t know…”
“Ash.” I walk toward her, grabbing her by the arms. “You’re what? Twenty-four? You need this. You should be partying.” I don’t know Ashley’s story, but I know that Devon knows it. Something about Bryant saving her when she was a rogue teenager living on the wrong side of the law. Or Devon making him save her.
“I am finished for the day.” She turns over her shoulder quickly. “But I don’t have any clothes in the house.”
I tilt my head to my closet. “You could fit mine.”
Ashley shuts the door behind herself. “Done.”
I gesture to the closet. “What’s mine is yours.”
As she loses herself inside, rummaging through my clothes, I begin removing mine, slipping on my silk robe.
“You know, I really needed this.” Ashley sounds out from the closet where she’s still trying to find something to wear. She comes out holding a green dress with thin spaghetti straps. It’s tight and short and will complement her blonde hair. “You really don’t think Bryant will mind?”
I snort, applying my foundation. “Trust me, he will be too busy being pissed at me for still being here. He probably won’t even notice.”
“True,” Ash says.
She slips on the dress and I get busy with my makeup. Once I’m done, I work on Ash’s face as she tells me about college. She’s studying to become a veterinarian. I didn’t even know that she was in college. She had said that Bryant put her through as part of her keeping the pool house and her job. The deal was that she was to go to college in order to continue to live and work for him. She seems happy, even though she’s older than everyone at college. Jer drops her off and picks her up. I tried asking about her and Jer, considering he’s eleven years her senior, but she closed up and didn’t want to talk about him. She is adamant that there isn’t anything romantic going on between them and that he’s more like a father figure in her life. A hot father, if that. Not sure I buy it.
“Let’s get drinks. Bryant has a very expensive alcohol cabinet that I feel like raiding.”
We make our way into the sitting room, where shelves of the finest whiskey and vodka are lined, glistening down at me. It’s like the heavens have opened and I’m about to choose my angel.
“Are you sure he’s not going to be home?” Ash asks nervously from behind me.
Rushing into the kitchen, I bring a bar stool into the lounge and line it up to the bottle of scotch I want. In hindsight, it doesn’t make sense why I would do this, considering Devon has a bar inside his den, but this is all pure revenge. It’s all part of my plan. A plan that I clearly do not have. Once my hands are secure around a glass bottle that has the words Macallan and the number 52 over it—whatever the fuck that means—I bring it down with me and begin tugging at the gold casing over the lid, before finally flicking it to the other side of the room.
Taking a swig, my muscles relax as the smooth liquid slides down the back of my throat. I hand it to Ash. “Treat it mean, keep it keen.”
Ash’s eyes flick from me to the bottle. “That looks really expensive, and Bryant doesn’t drink cheap alcohol on a bad day…” I shove it into her chest. She takes it off me and brings it to her lips. “Ah, well…”
Pushing open the doors that lead into Devon’s Den, music pours out, smacking me right in the face. A remix version of “Last Resort” by Papa Roach licks through the otherwise mellow atmosphere. Ash and I have taken a few shots of the whiskey to calm our nerves, but I need something in my hand now. She was right, it did look expensive, so I put it back where it belonged. Hopefully Bryant doesn’t notice.
