Chapter 11
THE EVISCERATION
It happened after dinner.
We were in the games room, and I was losing a significant amount of the huge pile of cashews I started with because I sucked so bad at poker.
Chastity, Courtney and Prue were curled up in yet another seating area by a fireplace, the fire lit, having a quiet gab.
So it was Battle, Tempie, Rally, Chelsea and me playing.
“Wait. Tell me again, is a full house better than a straight?” I asked the table.
See?
I was bad.
Battle turned twinkling-with-humor eyes to me as Tempie smiled deviously, and Rally started chuckling.
“It distresses me to put a damper on your enthusiasm for the game, but you’re terrible at this, darling,” Battle purred.
I felt that “darling” in his tone of voice with those twinkling brown eyes in my throat, my chest, my belly, regions south and maybe even down to my soul.
I held his gaze, thrown completely off balance in the best possible way.
I forced myself to speak. “I’ll be out this hand anyway. I only have three cashews left.”
To this, Battle reached to his massive mound of cashews (a big part of that mass came from my old mass), grabbed a hefty handful and dropped them on mine.
I didn’t know if it was the “darling” or how freewheeling Battle was with his cashews.
Or if it was a culmination of the last couple of days, where it was made clear, sometimes subtly, sometimes rudely, but always constantly, she wasn’t wanted.
Not to mention, Courtney nor Rally were making any pretense that, once this weekend was done, they were done with Chelsea.
Whatever it was, that’s when Chelsea did it.
It started with, “Do you have any family, Vivienne?”
This came so out of the blue, and, let’s face it, Battle and I were having a moment, I was liking that moment, so her horning in on it wasn’t my favorite thing.
I turned to her. “Yes, why?”
“What do they do?”
“My sister is a mechanical engineer. She works in the healthcare sector.”
“Impressive,” Rally remarked.
When I spoke no more, Chelsea asked, “Is that all?”
“Well, her husband is a nurse practitioner. And they have two kids, a boy and girl. They don’t have jobs, though, since they’re two and four.”
For whatever her purposes, Chelsea kept at me. “No more?”
What was she driving at?
“No. No more.”
“Just a sister?”
“Yes,” I said sharply. “Seeing as my mother died not long ago after losing a fight with cancer.”
A dead weight fell on the whole room.
“And my father died in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver when I was four,” I continued.
“Three of my grandparents are still alive, but they’re all retired so they don’t do anything.
However, after Dad died, Mom’s parents took us in.
We lived with them until we went to college.
So part of what they did was help keep us afloat, fed and happy. ”
“What’s going on?” Prue called from the seating area, feeling the vibe.
“Nothing,” I called back and dropped my cards. “I think I’m out.”
“What was your point?” Rally demanded of Chelsea.
“I just wondered, since she’s here for so long, if anyone at home might be missing her,” Chelsea explained.
“You could have asked that,” Rally pointed out.
I fiddled with my cards.
“I’m sorry about your mum, Vivi,” Tempie said quietly.
“It’s okay,” I lied and looked up from my cards.
Tempie was watching me.
Rally was scowling at his cards.
But Battle was studying Chelsea.
“It’s your call, Battle,” Chelsea prompted him.
“What was your point?” Battle repeated Rally’s question.
“As I said—” she began.
“You lied,” he interrupted her.
“I’m just curious,” Chelsea retorted with gathering heat. “She’s spending time with people I care about, and we know practically nothing about her.”
“And you feel it’s your job to vet guests in my home?” Battle queried.
“You all are ripe to be taken advantage of, Battle,” she insulted me not quite to my face, but in very close proximity.
I clenched my teeth.
Tempie tapped the sides of her cards to the table, unmistakably expending effort to keep her mouth shut and allow Battle to field that one.
“Did I hear her right?” I heard Prue demand from the seating area.
“Your father manages hedge funds,” Battle stated.
“But he studied at Cambridge, as did his father, and his grandfather, and he bought his first flat in Chelsea with his trust fund. You’re named after that flat.
You do nothing. You live off his money. You do it very well.
But you’ve never accomplished anything in your life. ”
She looked stricken. “Battle—”
“So let’s get back to your point about asking what Vivienne’s family does,” Battle demanded.
“It was a simple question,” she returned.
“Since I haven’t done it before, let’s not pretend I’ll fall for your bullshit.”
Now she appeared affronted. “I hardly think—”
Battle sat back, flinging his arm around the back of his chair, but he didn’t take his attention from Chelsea.
Oh boy.
My eyes flew to Tempie.
She looked gleeful.
Shit.
“Let’s get things perfectly straight,” Battle suggested.
“You are not better than Vivienne because your father worked hard so you don’t have to do anything.
In fact, it’s the opposite. Even if Vivienne was still working as a research librarian, her pedigree is more impressive than yours.
The fact she’s published seven books, the last two bestsellers, is an extraordinary accomplishment.
You are not going to encourage me to turn my eye to you by pointing out Vivienne works for a living, that her family does, even if they did something where they struggled, or something you thought was beneath you, or me.
You are not like me either, Chelsea. I work for a living too. ”
“Though, you don’t have to,” she mumbled.
“Do you think this house would run on The Fund alone?” he asked.
Wait.
That was the second time one of the Talyns mentioned “The Fund.”
“Christ, you have no fucking idea,” Battle went on. “And that’s one of your problems.”
Chelsea threw her cards on the table and made a big mistake.
Huge.
She asked, “Oh yes, Battle? Please illuminate me, since I honestly do not understand why you cast me aside. What are all my problems?”
Battle didn’t disappoint.
Boy, didn’t he.
“You live in a fantasy world fueled by being spoiled senseless your entire life,” he started.
“Like using people you care about to find a way to pitch up here, embarrassing them, and putting my family in an awkward position, because you’ve somehow convinced yourself you can win me over.
You can’t. I’ve shared that. You’re vain.
You’re entitled. You’re a snob. You’ve been painfully overindulged and criminally pampered. And you’re shit in bed.”
Oh boy!
I sucked my lips between my teeth and my gaze flew to Prue.
She was pulling a stretched lips Yikes! face.
Chastity’s eyes were as wide as saucers.
But Courtney looked (almost) as gleeful as Tempie.
“It’s entirely unattractive you don’t know how hard people have to work to pay a fucking gas bill,” Battle went on.
“And if I had to suffer through your amateur attempts at sucking me off one more time, I’d have considered putting a gun to my head.
The problem with that is, I know you have a lot of practice at the act, you’re just so fucking self-involved, you don’t realize the man you’re blowing is the person who’s supposed to feel something. ”
“I cannot believe you just said that to me,” she whispered.
“Three months ago, I told you we weren’t going to work,” Battle reminded her. “We’d been seeing each other for only three months by the time that happened. There were no promises. We didn’t move in together. We hadn’t even talked future, because that was never a consideration for me.”
He swung an arm across the table and continued talking.
“But here you are. And you just popped into my box at the symphony but stayed the entire intermission. And three times, you just happened to be at Mangano’s during the weekly lunch I take with mates.
We do this so we can catch up, but not with exes who I don’t want to see.
You crashed Alfie and Lulu’s house party.
Like you did here, they weren’t prepared to host you, so their staff was running around sorting a room for you while you drank a martini and complained about the rude sales associate you ran into at Pucci. ”
“Battle, I just—”
“You called at my house in London and fell into my arms crying about some slight a girlfriend dealt you. Then pretended to fall asleep in my arms. After I left you on the couch, you tried to crawl into my bed. Yes, Chelsea, you need to believe I’m saying these things to you.
Because my next step is a chat with your father.
And I’ll be sharing with him, if your shit doesn’t cease, the step after that will be a restraining order, because this is blatant stalking. ”
She hopped in her seat and snapped, “I’m hardly stalking you, Battle Talyn.”
He stared hard at her sitting where she was sitting, a seat she had not strictly been invited to take, but he said nothing.
Chelsea then made huge mistake number two.
She stated, “Oh my God, you can’t possibly think you’ll do better than me.”
“Think, no. Know, yes,” Battle replied.
She tossed a hand to me. “With her?”
“Chels, maybe—” Rally tried to intervene.