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Maisy turned back, slowly facing the woman again. “Well, I know exactly who you are, but you obviously still don’t know me. I don’t pay to play.” She narrowed her eyes to slits, and maybe I was imagining it, but her hair seemed redder. Like fire. “Name’s Maisy. Rhymes with Daisy. Remember it.”Bitchwas implied as she walked away with her head high.
Chapter Seven
Maisy
Who did that dusty old hen think she was?History? With Malachi?
Maybe a history of sexual assault and unwanted advances. Any idiot with eyeballs could see how uncomfortable he was. How desperately he was trying to de-escalate the situation so he could make her stop pawing him.
I heard the entire exchange. Including the part where she said I was “eating well.” It stung, but I didn’t have a response to that part of her diatribe. I was sure I’d wake up at three in the morning with an appropriate comeback—like, “I eat sushi off Malachi’s sweet abs” or something equally petty and brilliant.
But—crap on a crab cracker—she pissed me off.
People like her, who thought humans were objects and they could do whatever they wanted with them as long as they threw some dollar bills around, were at the top of my shit list.
I shook my head as I stomped through the resort.
Malachi was definitely groped against his will. Not to mention what I overheard about the host named Ethan. That smacked of a lawsuit, and I hoped she got what was coming to her.
But Malachi...
Damn him for expecting me to stay quiet.Like hellwas I going to stand by and watch some… some... cartoon villain put her hands all over my man.
Oh shit.
My man.
And I did think of him as mine already, no matter how little time had passed since we met. No matter how frustrated I was with him at that moment. He was mine, and I was angry and I wanted to wipe the floor with that washmitt of a woman.
Yuck. I didn’t even like sharing a gender with someone like her.
“Be fair, Maisy,” I muttered to myself.
Of course, I could see where Malachi was coming from. I wasn’t a complete fool.
His goal was to de-escalate, and I was most certainly ready to cause a bitch scene that could rival the legends. Joan Crawford ain’t got nothin’ on me.
I made a noise of outrage deep in my throat, ignoring the stares of the people nearby.
Dismiss me so you can doyour job? Did that bitch call me just a customer?
Well, I had a real suitable solution for that. So, so good. I had a feeling neither one of us was going to be his customers after today.
Catch me if you can, Malachi.
My anger carried me on black sooty wings all the way to the suite I shared with my friends, and I blew through the door, not even registering I didn’t need to use my key because the door was half ajar.
They’d stacked most of the clothes that were strewn about earlier in neat piles on the beds next to half full suitcases. Something should have clicked, but I was too irate to give it too much thought.
I slammed my purse down on the credenza, my phone spilling out of the side pocket and onto the smooth wooden top, along with a chapstick and pen with the Ember Island logo on it I’d swiped from the room earlier.
“Girls, we need to move resorts. It’s a long story, but I gotta move. I understand if you don’t want to change resorts, but I need to get out of here. Likenow.” It was a perfectly reasonable request and not weird in any way.
“Sounds good to me.” Gia came out of the bathroom with her toiletry bag in one hand and hair dryer in another. Her long dark hair in a ponytail that hung over one shoulder.
“Are you going to tell her you already have another suite booked starting tonight?” Kara looked up from her place on the loveseat, where she rolled up a sundress and shoved it into her bag. “We were planning on moving anyway so yay, perfect timing.”
“Wait, what?” I didn’t expect them to be one step ahead of me, and some of the fight left my body at the hitch in my plans.
