My mother rises from her chair and straightens her pencil skirt.
“I’d like to meet her,” she tells me for the thousandth time. “Schedule an appointment with Marci, and if you don’t, I’ll call Rose myself. We don’t need you to lie for us anymore.”
Her heels click away, leaving me to picture the impending meeting of Katarina Cobalt and Rose Calloway.
There will be screaming. Yelling. Possible bloodshed.
Though she’s resilient, I’m not so sure Rose will come out victorious this time.
My cellphone chimes and I see the name flash across the screen.Scott Van Wright.Wonderful.
When I answer the phone, I make sure I have the first words. “Scott, how sweet of you to call, I was beginning to suspect you didn’t like me very much.”
“Why would you get that idea?”You want to fuck my girlfriend.
“You like Rose better.” I throw out the bait, testing his response.
“I do like her better,” he tells me. “She’s prettier.” I wait for him to add something crude like “and she has a pussy” but he doesn’t. Either I’ve been hanging around vulgar people for too long or he’s censoring himself.
“Many men would disagree,” I say casually. “So why the sudden call?”
“I’m picking up food from the grocery store. I thought I’d get some of Rose’s favorite things. What does she like?”
“Me.”
He lets out a laugh. “This phone call is being filmed, you know. I have you on speaker.” He says it like he caught me in a spider’s web.
“She also loves my cock, my hair, my brain, my body?—”
“Yeah, she loves you so much that she’sstilla virgin.” He must have discovered that from an interview. Or maybe footage of someone mentioning it. Rose isn’t ashamed of being a virgin at all, so I could see her admitting it to the cameras.
“And you’re her ex-boyfriend,” I say blankly. “She has intimacy issues, and it’s not a far reach to conclude it’s from your impotence.” None of it is true, but I hope he airs this.
Doubtful.
He snorts.
“Oh, and she loves dark chocolate,” I say.
“I’ll just grab the condoms. How’s that?”
I clutch the phone tighter. “You’re asking for my permission to have sex? That’s kind. And the answer is no. I’m already taken.”
He laughs dryly. “You’re a fucking prick.”
“I’ve been called worse,” I say, my voice casual still. “But I’m the prick with the girl. And she’s not inflatable.”
“I’ll see you at the townhouse,” he says, ignoring my comment. “You’ll be back really late, right? You’ve got work,college. All that shit. Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll keep the girls company.”
He hangs up, and I replay the conversation in my head. He unnerves me more than any other human being, and the fact that I don’t have to impress him makes my lips unnaturally loose.
He called me. To fuck with me.
It’s working.
CHAPTER 7
ROSE CALLOWAY
