Sweet Little Bitch Read online

  “I doubt I get time to do massages. Mack is high maintenance,” I finally replied.

  She sank into the sofa in the living area of the suite. Scrunching her nose, she propped her feet up on the table in front of her and crossed her ankles. “Aren’t twins normally opposites?” she asked, looking perplexed.

  “Yes. And we are.” I had already told her how different Mack and I were.

  “I can’t imagine a man being any higher maintenance than you,” she said with a hint of humor.

  “Whatever. I’m not fucking high maintenance.”

  Both her perfectly arched eyebrows lifted. “Seriously? You trash a kitchen when you cook and leave every cabinet open expecting someone to walk behind you cleaning up. You won’t take a shower if anyone has used the hot water within the hour claiming all the hot water is gone. Your shaving supplies arrive in the mail monthly. And you brought me to a wedding so you wouldn’t have to deal with relationship questions.”

  She didn’t know what high maintenance was. “That isn’t what I’m talking about. Mack is needy. He likes all the attention on him.”

  Rowan laid her head back and returned to my book. If this turned into an argument, I would point out that Rowan had a serious case of OCD and she expected more out of people than was fair. She wasn’t cruel, she just had high standards often out of reach for the average person. Which was why Genesis ended up breaking it off. Genesis was flighty and disorganized. She also didn’t have the same goals in life as Rowan.

  Who was I to give relationship advice? I’d had many fuckups. One I wasn’t sure I would get over. Which if I admitted it that was the real reason Rowan was here.

  “She’s here you know. I saw Shay with her. She’s appears exactly like you described. Except she was ranting about a key.”

  My head snapped back up and Rowan turned to look at me. Sometimes it was as if she could read my thoughts. She claimed it was my expressions that were easy to read. Her dark green eyes looked concerned. On more than one drunken night I’d told her about all my mistakes with Fiona.

  “Those legs were incredible. You’re an idiot to let legs like those go.”

  A smile curled the corner of my mouth as I shook my head. “Don’t go there.”

  Rowan sighed. “Well damn, Marty. You just ruined all my fun. I wanted to get her naked.”

  “Shut up,” I shot back at her.

  “What?” she asked innocently. “You normally don’t mind when I go on and on about the things I want to do to whatever woman catches my attention. Don’t tell me there’s a rule against it with your ex.”

  I closed my book and set it beside the chair. “Fiona is off limits in general. I’d prefer we act like the past never happened. I intend to keep as much distance from her as possible. We’ll get through this weekend and then get out of this town.”

  “You think you’ll easily ignore her when the two of you are thrown together for everything at this wedding?”

  Shrugging, I stood up. “Shay and Mack know our past. They won’t throw us together.”

  Rowan laughed. It wasn’t a fake one. She was sincerely amused. Glancing down at her, I scowled. She was about to piss me off. Bringing up Fiona always put me in a foul mood.

  “You’re the best man. She’s the maid of honor,” Rowan said matter-of-factly.

  “Yeah, so?” I didn’t see how this was an issue.

  Rowan grinned at me. “Have you ever been in a wedding before?”

  “No. My friends are either married or sluts. And then there is you.”

  “The two of you will responsible for a lot of things this weekend. Starting tonight. And it will require talking.”

  Mack didn’t say anything about all that. He only said that Shay would of course ask Fiona and he hoped I could deal with it. He said there was no one else he wanted as his best man and had gone on and on about Fiona being a long time ago. How we had both moved on.

  Motherfucker.

  Had he assumed I knew this? The doing things together shit? Was that why he’d gone on and on about it for thirty minutes after I said it was fine with me?

  Dammit! “I’ll be back later,” I said not wanting to explain myself to her.

  “Don’t be mad at Mack! Be nice when you talk to him! It’s his wedding!” Rowan called out as I left the suite experiencing a slow building panic. Rowan was probably wrong. I just needed Mack to confirm it. He would tell me no and maybe laugh at me. No reason to get worked up.

  The door down the hall opened, and the first thing I saw was long blonde hair. The head turned and I stalled. Chantel. Fiona’s former roommate and best friend. Until I once again messed up. I made a mistake. One that ruined them.

  Her face looked unsure. Nervous. We stood there not moving and I could honestly say that looking at her now all I felt was regret. I had hated her the last time I saw her. I had gotten so damn drunk I didn’t know my name or Chantel’s. I was good at being stupid back then. Standing here in the hallway like two long lost lovers—which we had never been—was awkward, so I smiled and walked her direction.

  “Long time. How’s life?” I asked her. I was surprised she was here. She was here and that meant she and Fiona must have made amends. I could let go of that guilt.

  “Go-od,” she stammered. “I uh,” she glanced down the hall behind me. “Just got here. You’re the first . . . ah. . first one I’ve seen.” Even as she said it Chantel looked as if she was about to throw up right there on my feet. Being here wasn’t something she was comfortable with.

  “It’s a nice place.” I wasn’t sure what else to say because talking to me was making her physically ill. Having some sympathy for her, I gave a parting nod. “See you around.” I headed on past her toward the elevators.

  Why had Shay and Mack thought this was a good idea? Why did they think it was a good idea to get all of us together under one roof again? They were there when it all went down. Friendships had ended. Plans had changed. We all had fled in opposite directions. All of us but Mack and Shay.

  Which led us here.

  Quite possibly the world’s worst idea was brining all of us together again. Those two should have run off to Vegas. It would have been safer. Easier. And a fucking lot more fun.

  Fiona

  SLOWLY I SPUN AROUND THE suite. It was huge. “Shay, what on earth were you thinking? I don’t need all this room. This isn’t in your wedding budget.”

  “You don’t know what my wedding budget is. Shut up and enjoy this. I feel guilty that you are going to be forced to do so much with Marty,” she stopped short at his name. As if the sound of it would send me crumbling to the floor.

  Rolling my eyes at her, I walked to the bar and picked up a complementary bottle of water. “It’s been three years. I’m over it. All of it.”

  Shay’s expression was pinched. She was nervous about something. “Oh, uh, good then. You’re over all of it. That’s good. I mean I knew you were I am just glad to hear it. I didn’t want this weekend to be hard. With Marty and . . . with Chantel.” Her eyes widened. She hadn’t mentioned inviting Chantel. That was what had her nervous.

  This weekend wasn’t about my past. It was about Shay’s future. I could focus on her and this fairy tale she believed in. The others could be overlooked. With a shrug, I assured her. “It’s fine. You and Chantel were close. I get it. No big deal. I’m just surprised she came.”

  No, I wasn’t. Deep down, I knew Chantel would come. For Shay and Marty. And . . . she’d want to face me again. I was ready for that. It had been three years with no contact at all. Things in my life had changed. I wasn’t that girl anymore.

  “Are you sure?” Shay asked cautiously.

  “Yes. I’m sure, but I’ll probably need to break into the vodka in that mini fridge before I make my appearance tonight. I’ll cover all the mini bar costs because I might use it more than once.” There was zero question.

  Shay sighed. “I will cover your vodka. Drink what you want. I know this is hard. And I love you for not getting
mad at me. Because I would have been pissed at you.”

  I nodded. “Yes, you would have. And they call me the bitch. They have no idea how spoiled and unreasonable you can be.” I was only half teasing. Shay could be a brat. I’d been on the receiving end of it many times.

  Shay closed the distance between us and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “I love you. With mom not being able to come I need you even more. It means the world to me you’re here.” Her words were emphatic. She meant them.

  “I know and you should,” was my response. It always had been. I wasn’t one to use the love word.

  Shay chuckled and pulled back to look at me. “Rest. Relax. And I will see you in the courtyard at 6:00 for the private dinner I’ve arranged for our closest friends.”

  Luckily, I’d been smiling for the camera for so long I knew how to fake a smile to look sincere. Shay beamed back at me. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said again before turning to hurry out the door and back to her wedding preparations.

  I stood there staring out the windows overlooking historic Savannah. Letting all she had said sink in. I had prepared myself to face Marty for the past three months knowing this weekend was coming. But I’d had no time to prepare myself for Chantel. I had a few hours to do so. And drinking all the alcohol in the mini bar wasn’t the answer. Well . . . maybe it was an answer but not the best one. If I showed up intoxicated, then they’d all think I still cared. I would not let them think they’d hurt me. My life was better than the one I’d left here with them. I was successful. I was strong. I was independent. I no longer needed a roommate who drove me nuts with her early morning aerobics to pay the rent. I could afford it all on my own.

  Feeling somewhat more level I picked back up my suitcase and walked to the bedroom to set it on a luggage rack and open it up. I needed to unpack the little that I had brought and to make sure my dress for tonight didn’t need ironing. Glancing at the bathroom I decided I would take my vodka to the massive claw footed tub and soak in warm bubbles until I was relaxed.

  Just as I was getting my dress hung up there was a knock on my door. I paused, not sure what to do. It wasn’t Shay. She had just left. She wouldn’t come back so soon. It could be the hotel with some welcome gift. But I didn’t know if I wanted to chance it. There were people in the hotel I wanted to keep my distance from until I had no choice.

  I needed vodka first, dammit.

  There was another knock. I groaned and forced my feet to move toward the sound. Knocking had never annoyed me so much. Right now, I disliked it more than anything else. Slowly, I inhaled deeply and exhaled. I was good. I didn’t care who it was. Leaning in, I checked the peep hole to see a hotel employee holding a basket. Relief washed over me and I opened the door not even annoyed with Shay for spending yet even more money on me.

  “A gift for you, ma’am,” the lady said in broken English.

  I thanked her and took the basket. With a smile, she nodded and walked away. I held the basket glancing inside to see what Shay had done. Champagne, chocolate covered strawberries, gold covered pears, and some fancy looking nuts. Shaking my head, I lifted my gaze ready to retreat into my room when the door across from mine opened.

  There wasn’t enough time to panic or consider the chances it was someone I knew. When the stunning redheaded woman stopped short as if she was shocked to see me I gave her a tight smile. I definitely didn’t know her. Unless we had done a modeling shoot together once and I’d forgotten. She had the cheek bones for the job. Photographers would fight to photograph her. The redheads with perfect bone structure always were popular in our field. I doubted she was a model though. I would have more than likely remembered her. It must have been my standing here that startled her. She probably didn’t expect to open the door and see someone right there looking at her. Breaking eye contact, I quickly backed up and closed the door. I put the basket on the bar.

  The champagne was tempting. I opened the basket and took out the strawberries instead. I would eat them and go for a run later tonight. After the meal. Not sure I would have much of an appetite at dinner anyway. With all that catching up crap we’d have to do.

  Taking a bite of the strawberry I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sweet juice. Then I picked up the bottle of champagne and headed to the bathroom. Screw unpacking. Forget the vodka. I had champagne and a bath. I was sick of thinking about Marty and now Chantel. I needed to escape.

  Stopping, I turned around, grabbed the rest of the strawberries and ignored the habitual calorie counting that started to take place in my head. Today was not a day to care. I needed this. I would savor it and I would forget about everything else. And I’d be damned if I worried about one single calorie.

  Marty

  “YOU LOOK READY TO JUMP out the nearest window. Relax,” Rowan muttered under her breath as we walked into the entrance of the courtyard where pre-dinner drinks were already being served. I had no doubt I looked ready to flee. However, I didn’t need her smart-ass comments right now. I needed a drink more than I needed my next breath.

  “I’m getting whiskey. Want one?” I asked her not even looking in her direction.

  “No, I prefer to stay sober and keep you from screwing up,” was her reply. Good plan. Knew I’d brought her for a reason. “But you’ve got to point Chantel out to me when she arrives. I want to be sure to watch the drama as it unfolds.”

  I hadn’t chanced a glance around the room. I was afraid of eye contact with anyone . . . or maybe just someone. I didn’t say anything as I walked away from her to look for the bar. If I could get a double downed quickly, I might brave this fiasco my brother had gotten me into. When he’d told me about the plans for the wedding I’d felt confidant I could do this. But knowing she was close . . . that was different.

  A hand touched my arm and I tensed but only for a moment. The familiar smell of Rowan’s perfume hit me and I glanced at her sudden need to attach herself to me. She leaned close and whispered. “Never mind. I don’t need you to point out Chantel I figured it out. Are you sure she doesn’t swing both ways? Because damn . . . she’s hot.”

  Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to the bartender and glanced at the selection of whiskey behind him. “Makers Mark, double, neat.” I added, “A club soda with lime too, please.” If Rowan wasn’t drinking alcohol, then she drank club soda with lime.

  “Thank you,” she said peering back over her shoulder to check out the room. Or just Chantel. Horny bitch.

  “Would you stop it,” I growled under my breath.

  “What?” she asked shifting her mischievous gaze to me. “If you aren’t going to look at all of them and watch then I am. And unfortunately, it seems Chantel is more worried about me being on your arm than I’d like. She isn’t checking me out at all. That’s a shame. I’m positive she’d enjoy it if she gave it a chance.”

  “Jesus, Rowan, could you not do that here?” I asked. I reached for the whiskey the bartender was handing me.

  “What? Be a lesbian? No, I’m sorry Marty. I happen to take that trait with me everywhere I go.”

  I started to respond when her hand squeezed my arm in a death grip. “She’s here. And holy God she is stunning. You shouldn’t look. Your plan to ignore your surroundings is much better. Go with it. Oh, Chantel sees her. I think Chantel may throw up from nerves. Maybe you should watch. The place is packed with emotion, angst. Damn, I need popcorn.”

  “Shut up. Jesus, Rowan.” I shoved the club soda in her hand and stalked toward my brother who I wanted to hate for making me come here.

  “You brought me here knowing I love a good female angst fest. It’s like a live viewing of one of those Lifetime movies. I’d say Hallmark but this shit isn’t about to get mushy. I foresee death before ooey-gooey forgiveness.”

  Mack’s eyes shifted from the waiter he was speaking with to focus on me. He finished what he was telling the server before turning his full attention to me. “You good?” he asked. His frown said it all.

  No, I wasn’t g
ood. I was tense, anxious, fucking dying to look at her and couldn’t do it. My chest was tight. I could feel her presence. Even if Rowan hadn’t announced Fiona’s entrance I’d have known she was here. “I have whiskey,” was my simple reply.

  He smirked. “The look in your eyes says you are close to bolting so I’d guess you haven’t had enough whiskey yet. Relax,” his gaze scanned the room. “Chantel is talking to Beulah. And . . . Fiona is with Shay. They’re smiling but whispering. She’s not handling it much better than you. Her cheeks are flushed.”

  I turned, unable to keep myself from looking her way. Fiona’s cheeks only flushed when she was drinking. Fiona wasn’t one to drink much. Had that changed? It was too late. I’d been curious and not stopped myself in time. The moment my eyes found her, the sharp hard kick in the chest took my next several breaths. I fucking wished that would go away. It had been three years. Why wouldn’t my reaction to her go the hell away? This wasn’t normal. Maybe Rowan was right and I needed to see a therapist.

  I heard Rowan speaking to Mack but was unable to listen to them. Their words were a jumbled mess floating in space and my complete focus was on her. I knew she felt me staring. I could see her cheeks flush even brighter pink and her shoulders tensed as she stood even straighter. The rigidness of her stance gave away that she was nervous. Did she feel like I did? Was I alone in this hell?

  Slowly, as if she was fighting every fiber of her being but unable to stop it, her head turned and those exotic green eyes that always appeared in my dreams, locked on me. We stood there like that. Not moving. Not speaking. For what seemed like an eternity. Rowan walked up and stood beside me and I heard something said about popcorn again. Mack may have chuckled. I wasn’t positive.

  Then it ended.

  Just that quickly.

  Fiona turned away breaking eye contact and walked off. Her stride that of a model. It always had been. I used to love teasing her about never leaving the catwalk.