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Jenna peeped in between them and took hold of the phone so she could scrutinize the bulge in the man’s dusty long johns. “It says 1901,” she pointed out. “That rules out Photoshop,” Jenna said, laughing. “Well, I think we can safely say that Jagger McCoy is a living legend, and I may have seen it today with my own eyes... if I weren’t so busy looking at his freaking gorgeous face.”
“Did we just look up a legend about a family with giant cocks?” Finley asked. They all broke out into more giggles until a derisive, mirthless laugh echoed from the doorway of her bedroom.
They had been so engrossed in the McCoy legend they hadn’t heard the door open. But like an evil strike of lightning, the lightheartedness in the room quickly evaporated.
“Arg,” Finley grumbled to herself as they turned around and faced the entrance to her bedroom. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard, she then had to stifle a grimace as well.
Giselle Banks.
Tall. Blond. Blue-eyed. Bully.
She was Finley’s step-cousin. A year ago, her uncle remarried, bringing the leggy beauty into the family. Giselle was also her number one enemy for no reason whatsoever other than the fact that she hated Finley for breathing.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” Giselle grabbed the phone from Jenna’s hand, causing Finley’s pretty redhead friend to whimper. Her step-cousin had a way of scaring people without even trying.
She didn’t come alone either. Her entourage, the Trent sisters, Bianca and, Melissa followed her into the room.
“What do you want, Giselle?” Finley asked as she grabbed her phone back from Giselle’s cold fingers. There were three people too many in her bedroom now.
“Well, I was here to throw you an earth-friendly, bachelorette party, but...” She turned her nose up at the empty boxes of pizza, cans of soda, and milk chocolate wrappers. “Disgusting,” she murmured under her breath, and her ass-kissing ladies-in-waiting did the same.
“I haven’t said yes, yet.”
“You will. You’re ruled by money. Your father is not only on the verge of losing all his hotels, but also this house.”
In Giselle’s world, her body was her temple, or so she said. She followed a strict clean diet and thought any human being not doing the same suffered from gluttony and needed to be executed as enemies against humanity.
She made that fact known to everyone and anyone, but more so to Finley. She had a special addictive interest in demeaning Finley whenever she could.
Giselle had given up all her earthly possessions, again or so she said, and traded them for long skirts and beads. She preferred to live in a tent in a settlement in the city for the enlightened and believed Mother Nature spoke to her personally. Because, she was so pure.
Had she been anyone else but Giselle, Finley would have respected everything about her and admired the heck out of her. But Giselle had a way of making Finley feel as if she were the worst, most selfish, uncaring human being to have ever walked the earth.
“Seriously? The world is coming to an end, and this is what you girls are doing? The McCoy legend? Oh, you small-town people. All of you are the same. Such tiny little minds and so easily amused, so gullible when there’s a whole world out there just suffering.” She shook her head, and her two companions did the same, mimicking their leader.
“They probably shoved a log down their pants,” she added, her caustic tone punctuated with the flick of her long hair over her shoulder. “They were, after all, lumberjacks,” she added, clearly feeling proud that she had proved the story to be a myth with one sentence. “Are those new shoes, Finley? Your father is in a horrendous financial predicament, and you buy more shoes?”
“I bought them six months ago, okay. When I didn’t know...” Suddenly Finley felt very stupid for thinking a new pair of shoes was going to cheer her up.
“Hey, that’s none of your fucking business, Giselle,” Jenna said through gritted teeth.
Finley smiled at her friend. Jenna hated confrontations more than anyone she knew.
“You don’t know anything about me,” Finley said, crossing her arms over her chest and staring Giselle down. “Or about the McCoys, for that matter.”
“And youknowthe McCoys? Are you seriously standing up for them?”
Okay...standing upwas an interesting choice of words. And who said she couldn’t make sex jokes and still be a virgin?
“Yes. Yes, I am.” What the heck was she doing? Was she really going head-to-head with her step-cousin over Jagger McCoy’s mythically mammoth-sized downstairs package?
Shit.
“Prove it then,” Giselle declared. “Prove the legend or prove me wrong. Take a picture of Jagger McCoy’s penis and send it to me. But you aren’t capable of doing that yourself, are you? You’re used to having people do things for you. Like the spoiled brat that you are.”
“Challenge accepted.” She didn’t even think twice before she answered.
Silence blanketed the room.
