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I need to work on my stamina, though. I was too exhausted from walking for a few hours. Maybe I should take up running?
Eww, I hate running.
But I might have to do exactly that to get away from the goons guarding me. Yeah, I definitely don’t want to run out of puff should I ever get chased.
Running it is then… I groan inwardly.
And working out at the gym is probably a good idea too. I need to put myself in the best possible shape. Plus, I have little else to do all day. I might as well use this opportunity to get super fit.
Content to have come up with the beginnings of a plan, I relax into the headrest and close my eyes.
I can do this.
It’s a matter of persistence. It always pays off… or so my da said, and he would never lie to me.
Over time, Gualtiero is bound to grow more complacent, especially if I don’t attempt to run for a little while.
Resisting him will be my challenge. Once Gualtiero unleashes his charm on me, it will be mighty hard to stay strong.
But it’s possible, right?
Susanna was marvelous in working through all the knots in my shoulders and back. I feel like a new woman, ready to take on the world. But let’s start with Oriana.
Clutching the towel to my chest, I glance around the partition. She’s still standing by the door like an ice queen, freezing everything and everyone in her sight. I’m surprised there aren’t icicles hanging off her.
Her cold, contemptuous eyes hold mine. Okay… if she wants to make my life unpleasant, I’m more than happy to have a little fun at her expense—I had an inspiration as I lay naked on the massage table.
Don’t mess with me, bitch.
As I withdraw behind the screen to dress, I summon my inner Rhia. My best friend has always been brilliant at bitch slapping the deserving.
My eyes fall on a pair of scissors on the trolley next to the massage table. Hmm, they could come in handy. I let them disappear into the small handbag I was allowed to carry, which holds all of two items—a pack of pocket tissues and my lip balm. I just hope Oriana won’t search through it.
Just as I’m about to leave, another idea pops into my head, and I’m sure the smile spreading over my face is diabolical.
I pour massage oil into my hands and rub them together, then let them hang by my side as I walk toward my minder. She steps aside for me to go first, but I shake my head.
“Don’t you have to go ahead of me to make sure the coast is clear?” I look at her expectantly.
“Alonso has been waiting outside this door. He’ll cover your front.”
She just has to have the last word. Clearly, she needs the power trip to make herself feel better.
I smile sweetly at her. “I prefer you check he’s still there. What if he was taken out? You wouldn’t want me to walk into a trap now, would you?”
Oriana bites her lip to stifle her retort. Her eyes are slits as they spit daggers at me. With a huff, she reaches for the door handle and pulls it open, gesturing for me to walk through.
“Miss O’Neil,” she spits out my name. “As you can see, Alonso is in one piece,” Oriana sneers, pointing to the man in question, who studies us with raised eyebrows.
I smile at him, stepping closer to Oriana, patting her back condescendingly a few times, making sure to touch different areas. “So he is.”
I smile some more at her as I step through the door, pleased at how Oriana’s tailored Italian suit now sports several oily handprints.
It’s juvenile to be sure, but I’ve got plausible deniability. Part of me feels transported back to middle school, when it was par for the course to pull pranks on each other. It’s a bit of harmless fun and lightens my mood, even if only for a moment.
Back at the car, I slide into my seat and grin when I see my handiwork on Oriana’s back. Alonso follows my eyes and shakes his head at me, trying hard to stifle a grin. I shrug my shoulders, mouthing, “She deserved it.”
Bitch slap part one.
