One word ends my life as I know it. ‘Okay.’
‘Okay?’ At first I’m not sure ifIshrieked out at her offensive acceptance, or if Harrison did. The pads of my fingers press against my lips. They haven’t moved. It’s one small saving grace.
‘Yeah, why not?’ She offers a half-hearted smile.
‘Sugar, you are not going to regret this, I swear.’ He drops a kiss on her cheek before moonwalking backwards out of the cubicle like the jumped-up little prick he is. ‘Tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at eight, okay?’
Victoria nods, shrugging her shoulders in casual acceptance.
But Harrison’s forgotten one thing. It’s not her he’s picking up. It’s both of us.
And I intend to make his night downright miserable.
If he even gets that far.
‘See you tomorrow, dog,’ he hisses snidely, with a contrasting effusive sneer.
In the car home,Victoria rubs her weary eyes, crossing and uncrossing her legs in a bid to get comfortable.
‘You can’t be serious?’ I blurt out. Anger meshes with hurt in one sickening, swirling mess of acid eating the lining of my stomach.
‘Serious about what?’ She adopts an air of boredom, but she knows. She fucking knows.
‘Going out with the campus creep.’
She sighs heavily, staring out of the passenger window at the streetlights whizzing by. ‘I’ve decided to only pursue what I can have, instead of torturing myself with what I can’t. I intend to start the way I mean to go on. Harrison’s a good fit for me, on paper at least. I intend to give him a chance.’
A chance?
Over my dead, fucking body.
She’s just goading me. Testing to see if I’ll crack. It’s another one of her games, just like the stunt with Alexa and the trip to Ann Summers.
It has to be.
He might be socially a better fit, with his third level education and fancy family. But she’s not seriously going to let him put his filthy hands anywhere near her.
Is she?
17
VICTORIA
The doorbell chimes at exactly one minute to eight. Harrison is punctual. It’s a good start, whatever happens next.
I run a hand over the sleek midnight blue silk of my dress, a stunning Evangeline Araceli number gifted from Sasha. It’s deceivingly conservative-looking from the front, midi in length with a high neck. It radiates class and elegance.
The back of the dress, however, screams something else altogether. The silk is cut low enough to reveal my entire spine, leaving no option but to go braless.
Silver Manolo Blahnik sandals give me extra height I don’t need, but love. Even when I’m in heels, Archie towers above me.
Whoops, I mean Harrison, because that’s who I’m supposed to be impressing, right?
Maybe it’s cruel, agreeing to go out with another man, but I have to do something. As my dad, God rest him, used to say, shit or get off the pot.
After tonight, one way another, I’ll know if Archie will ever give in to this thing between us.
If dating Harrison doesn’t tip him over the edge, nothing will. And if not, perhaps dinner with Harrison won’t turn out to be as dull as I initially suspected. Doubtful, though, doubtful.
