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“Of course I’m serious, babe,” Ramirez’s voice shakes with uncertainty. Even more so when she doesn’t respond verbally or nonverbally. Stone cold. Still. And silent. “Four carats serious. Platinum and diamond. Just like you always wanted.”
My arm tightens around Candice as a harsh curse battles with my lips to be released. Ramirez stole my fiancée. He’s proposing to her in front of the entire nation, and he has a flashier ring! Is fate playing a cruel joke on me? Why am I witness to this?
I spent days deliberating over the countless choices inside a must-have jewelry store, because my mom and sister drilled it into me that every engagement ring worth anything either came from that store or was couture and by design. In the end, I hadn’t been able to choose something that spoke of how unique Ashleigh is.
How fucking picky too!
She hates white gold with a passion. Doesn't think highly of silver. She’s allergic to platinum. And she thinks diamonds are a bit conceited—
Wait a second… She’s allergic to platinum.
Surely the man asking her to marry him should know that.
And she hates ostentatious jewelry. The dress should be the showstopper, not the jewelry. My sister had designed all her gowns for the last few years, and Ashleigh had refused to allow anything to detract from Julia’s vision. My ring was co-designed by my sister.
I frown. Does Justin know her at all?
She’s a private person. She'll hate being proposed to in front of a studio audience. In front of the world! She doesn't like her personal life spread all over the news. That’s why I’m doing it!
The creases deepen in my forehead. The tension causing an ache there.
What am I thinking? I don’t know her either. I didn't think she'd run off with the movie star in the first place, but she did.
It happens in a microsecond. If you blinked, you missed it. She morphs into the super-bitch I’ve faced-off many times in the last sixteen years. I know her well.
“Are you…” She starts out calm but by the time the last words are out she’s raging like a wildfire. “Are you out of your goddamn fucking mind?”
A collective gasp echoes throughout the studio audience and around the bar. Krystal Valentina has done something much worse than curse on American television.
A hole tears through my stomach. Something isn't right here. I’ve followed the love birds around for the past fifteen month. If there was anyone who epitomized love, then it’s Krystal and Justin. That’s what makes me so sick about all this. She’s supposed to be in love with me!
“What?” Justin stumbles back on to his heels. “No! You know you mean everything to me. Every time I look into your ocean blue eyes I feel like I've been struck by lightning.”
A collective sigh echoes around me, which, to my ears, sounds like the entire female population has melted at my nemesis's confession. God damn him!
“Why would you do something like this?” she asks.
“Sparkle—”
How dare he call her that? I light up like a rocket. How dare he call her by my nickname for her? That’s no one’s right but mine!
“—I'm sorry,” Justin mumbles as he gets to his feet.
“You’re lucky I don’t launch you across this set, Ramirez!”
All the blood drains from his face. I might not like the man. But he’s just offered her his heart and she’s gone light. Whatever triggered it, she’ll show no mercy now. I kind of feel sorry for the guy.
“God! I'm such an idiot. How did I not know?” Ramirez backtracks rapidly. “I’m so sorry. babe. This was the wrong place, the wrong time. I just thought it would be romantic because we met on this show. I should have kept this between you and me.”
“There’s never been anything between you and me!”
Huh? I’m pretty sure there has been something between them. There’s been plenty of times when the only thing between them is saliva and other bodily fluids. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. They’re not prudish about where they get it on!
She’s wearing color contact lenses. Her normally green eyes are lavender eyes narrow to almond slithers. She tears out Justin's heart, puts in a blender, and serves it to the toothless pack of wolves that is the nation. Welcome to restaurant humiliation, Ramirez. This evening's specialty is revenge. I hope you wrapped up warm, because this dish comes at sub-zero temperatures.
“I'm sorry.” Justin’s voice is thready. “I never meant for—”
“No!” She holds her hand up. The super-bitch is back. If those cold steely eyes could kill, he’d be six-feet under. “Not interested in your lies. You used me. You took advantage of me!”
