13. She said, “What’s the matter, jealous?”
13
She said, “What’s the matter, jealous?”
Eden
Yvette was my fairy godmother.
My eligible bachelor’s name was Sam …Something . I mean, really, who cared about his surname? Crew-cut blonds who played professional rugby weren’t usually my type, but Sam was all kinds of rough and pretty to look at. A blocked jaw. His black blazer stretched across heavily muscled shoulders. Tall enough to tower over me, even though I strutted through the stadium beside him in four-inch stilettos.
His enormous paw rested in the curve of my spine. A gentleman. He guided me through the crowd supporting some team playing some sport, but the innocent touch didn’t help settle my stomach. This man would be a fine notch on my bedpost. Why wasn’t my body getting the memo?
Sam punched the button for the elevator to the corporate box and turned to me. One of his eyes was so fat and purple it was like he ended every smile with a wink.
I waved a hand at his face. “What happened?”
“Copped a knee to the eye, babe.” Sam’s chest puffed out enough to strain the buttons of his black shirt. “Got flattened after making a break for a try.”
“Um.” Was he speaking English? What the hell was a ‘try?’ Was that when his team scored? I had no idea, but I couldn’t keep blinking at him like a doe-eyed debutante, so I nodded and said, “Cool.”
“Damn straight. Now, show me this dress. Give us a twirl.”
I spun around and jiggled my hips to model the vintage designer gown I’d rented at the last minute. “You approve?”
“I’m givin’ you another damn straight. This dress is doin’ it for me.” He snuck an extra-long peek at my booty—with his one eye—and gave an appreciative nod. “You’re a class act, babe.”
The grin eating my face also ate up some of the pesky guilt.
Kisses to Yvette for playing fairy godmother. She’d truly outdone herself by helping me with my rebound dating scheme. Not a cricketer? Tick. Hot? Not my usual type, but the man was too perfect to be anything less than a big tick. Not dumb? Welp, I wasn’t holding out much hope after he’d wondered if limes were unripe lemons, but two out of three wasn’t bad.
Sam’s broad shoulders crowded most of the space in the elevator. I squeezed in beside him, trying my hardest not to smoosh my boobs into his brick wall of a chest even though that might’ve been his plan.
“So, what’s this shindig?” I asked. “You were vague on details. Some corporate function?”
“A booze fest with the sponsors. Coach likes us to keep ’em happy when we’re not on the field. It’ll be a few dudes from an insurance company and some law firm.”
I groaned. “Lawyers?” I’d had enough of one particular lawyer to last a lifetime.
“Those uptight bastards aren’t so bad once you get some booze in ’em.”
My lip curled. Maybe that was where I’d gone wrong—not getting Zach drunk enough. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Babe, listen ’ere. I don’t want you gettin’ all pouty. We’re here to make an appearance. I’ll shake a few hands, and you’ll shimmy your sexy rear around enjoying all the free champagne. Then, we’ll fuck off somewhere fun.”
“Promise?” I clasped my hands under my chin. “Yvette’s getting together a few people for margarita shots at El Diablo Cantina later.”
“Lock us in, babe.”
Two guys in suits fell over themselves when we walked through the door. Heads turned. More people rushed over. Sam was a Big Deal . Deep voices boomed, and there was a lot of shoulder slapping and congratulations for last night’s ‘amazing fucking game.’ Sam shook off the praise and proudly introduced me as ‘his special friend,’ which led to round two of shoulder slapping.
What a bunch of drongos.
“Sam,” said one suit. “The line breaks you managed last night—”
Cue my exit.
Let them talk about boring rugby. One remotely interesting group of people drowning in the sea of suits needed rescuing; I just had to find them. My polite smile faded as I scanned the room.
A group chatted in the corner with some guys stacked like Sam. Boring. The women huddled near the bar appeared to be having about as much fun as me. Maybe they were my people? My eyes fell on another group by the windows overlooking the stadium. I didn’t notice the game unfolding on the other side of the glass or the thousands of thundering cheers.
Why, hello there, gorgeous.
My greedy eyes found a new home appreciating the man wearing a navy suit. Dark hair barely tamed. Tall. Broad shoulders. A veiny hand wrapped around a glass of…hmm, probably scotch. Rich lawyers always sipped scotch. Zach did.
The man across the room had a commanding presence. Sexy supervillain vibes. My new partner in crime—if he was lucky. My libido burst back to life with the swoop of my stomach.
Oh yes, this man would be the perfect distraction.
When I dragged my gaze away from how nicely this new gentleman filled out his trousers, the old guy next to him locked eyes with me and grinned.
Busted.
Old Guy leant over and whispered something to his companions, pointing across the room at me. I rolled my eyes. The group whispered with the subtlety of a group of giggling teenagers. My handsome stranger’s head started to turn, seeking me out over his shoulder. Dark, stubbly jaw…a serious scowl…and…familiar brown eyes blazing behind black-rimmed glasses.
My hand balled into a fist by my side.
Some fairy godmother Yvette turned out to be. What the hell did she think she was playing at?
Mr. Supervillain was none other than Zach.
I stepped back, the familiar flutter of nerves in my feet urging me to run, run, run! Flustered, I stumbled, but before I fell ungracefully on my butt for the first time in my life, Sam’s arm weaved across my back to steady me. His big hand clasped my shoulder. Instinct. He didn’t even stop chatting.
My heart raced. I pressed my hand to my chest, took a deep breath, and dared to lift my gaze. I expected to clash an awkward look with Zach, but his slitted eyes were locked on the hand Sam had left draped lazily over my shoulder.
Oh.
Power surged through my veins. Jealous, was he? The evil bitch inside me awakened. It was time to up the ante and make Zach suffer.
I shimmied close enough for my hip to knock into Sam. “Want a drink?” I feathered my fingertips up his side, hoping one particular set of dark eyes watched my every move from across the room.
“Babe, you read my mind.” Sam flashed me his winking grin. “Surprise me with somethin’ that knocks my socks off more than that dress.”
I blew Sam an air kiss as I sauntered away. What a show. I could feel Zach’s eyes follow the swish of my hips as I walked to the bar.
And I only needed one guess for who edged the empty glass on the marble counter beside me. Zach must have downed his drink on his way to the bar. Dutch courage? Was he worried I’d create a scene? Please. I had more class than that. But I refused to acknowledge him. I couldn’t. My skin was too flushed, burning up, and my pulse still pounded. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing the effect he had on me.
“Do you believe in coincidences?” Zach’s voice was lower than usual. Intimate.
I kept my eyes fixed on the jumble of bottles behind the bar. “No,” I said. “This has Yvette written all over it.”
Zach sighed in agreement. “I knew she was acting weird when she kept asking me about my plans tonight.”
“You talked to Yvette?”
“Ah, well… Yeah? She didn’t tell you?”
“Not a peep. Where’d you run into her?”
“At your salon.”
My eyes rounded. Had Zach dropped off Apology Present 3.0? Was it awful of me to wonder what his latest gift was? “I’d advise you against stopping by for a haircut.” I turned to smile at him ever so sweetly. “Andie has been itching to practice her barbering skills on your balls.”
He grunted. “I’d rather take my chances with Andie than see you here with him .” A glare shot in Sam’s direction.
“Aw, what’s the matter, honey?” I fluttered my eyelashes. “Jealous?”
“Yes.”
Zach shifted a step. Just one. He was so close. He’d always been too close. The familiar tickle of his cologne and the memory of warm hugs heated my cheeks. Every breath I dragged in pinched my chest.
Zach took up even more space when he dipped his head and whispered into the crook of my neck. “I’m losing my mind I’m so jealous. You look so…” His fingertips grazed along my wrist, sparks shooting up my spine. “So stunning. But then, you always do, don’t you?”
My heart pummelled my ribs. I was a sucker for a compliment—especially one delivered with Zach’s shy smile. But I wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand.
“I bet you’re sorry now you never brought me to one of your functions,” I said, scorn dripping from my voice.
Zach’s lips flattened. “Just so we’re clear, I never usually go to these stupid kiss-arse networking events. My boss said I need to be more visible.” He lifted a shoulder. “A partnership expectation, I guess.”
I scoffed a laugh. Zach had once politely refused to go to a food festival with me because of the crowd, but when his boss said, “Jump,” suddenly he was out networking. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.
“Convenient,” I said.
Zach had the nerve to huff out an exasperated breath. “Eden, it’s not like that—”
“Jesus.” A blonde woman fell out of the crowd, crashing against the bar. “I didn’t think I’d escape the leech with the comb-over. He just tried to grab my arse.”
Michaela leant over the marble counter in her Friday night finest, waving for the bartender. I scrutinised her from head to toe. She wasn’t tragic. In fact, she’d put herself together rather nicely in a blushed pink cocktail dress. My eyes narrowed. But she was standing far too close to Zach. She relied on him. Sought him out when she had a problem with some creep. Another reminder that those two had too much history.
I laughed. “The gang’s all here, huh?” I said to Zach.
He frowned. Not at me. At Michaela.
Hazel eyes turned in my direction. Did Michaela know who I was? I lifted my chin but didn’t smile. Her eyes widened. Oh yeah, even if she didn’t know my name, she knew who I was: competition .
Zach cleared the awkwardness from his throat with a cough. “Mac, can you please give us a minute?”
I snorted. Still with the whole Mac thing . Cute.
A scowl scrunched Michaela’s face into too many sharp points. She didn’t want to give us a minute. She was more tempted to take a shot at clawing my eyes out with her French tip manicure.
“Sure,” she said. The smile that followed was basically a sneer. “I can give you a minute.”
A tense silence filled her place at the bar when she left.
“Eden.” Zach’s voice was urgent, desperate to drag my attention off the woman sauntering across the room. “This is not what it looks like. I’m not here with her. I mean, I am, but not like—we’re not—” He forced in a breath to calm himself enough to get the words out. “I didn’t bring her. She isn’t my date, and she’s absolutely not my girlfriend.”
“Just your fuck buddy?”
His jaw clenched.
“And you’re still calling her that adorable pet name,” I said. “I love how you guys rhyme. Zach and Mac. Total couple goals.”
“Everyone calls her Mac!”
“Is that what you call out when you come?”
Zach’s eyes bulged. “Eden!” He growled my name. “I keep my personal life personal .” He’d never glared at me like that before. Agitated, almost angry, like he had something to lose—and it wasn’t me. “I don’t broadcast my business for the whole bloody stadium to hear!”
“No, of course not. No one can know about your dirty little secrets.”
“Eden, you weren’t—”
“No, I wasn’t even your secret, was I? I was no one.” My laugh was dark. “It takes one to know one, right?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Does your pride burn to see me here with a real man, Zach? Sam’s a big deal in this city. Notice how your colleagues fell over themselves to shake his hand? And who are you? Some half-baked lawyer?” I snorted. “Not even a partner .”
Zach’s face shuttered. Did he think I’d let him stonewall me? I wanted his anger. I wanted him to argue back. I wanted him to tell me in a fit of rage why I’d never been good enough. So, I stooped even lower into the filth to get a reaction.
“I can’t believe I ever settled for someone as pathetic as you,” I said, my voice edged with cruel.
A soft whimper of shock was torn out of Zach, as if I’d reached in and ripped his heart out. I clapped my hand over my mouth. I regretted letting my pain take hold of me, wrenching those ugly words from my throat and spewing them into the world. I knew he was sensitive about his work…himself…how quietly he moved around in the world. I knew. And I’d said the words anyway.
“Z-Zach, I—”
“I can’t believe you chose me, either.” He jerked his chin down in a nod. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
There was nothing sweet about my revenge…or watching the shattered shell of the man who walked away.