Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Deuce
I went for a longer run than usual yesterday and my legs are feeling it today.
Felt like I needed to get my new girlfriend out of my head.
Sadly, nine miles didn’t do anything to erase her scent from my nose or delete the way the scrape of her throaty voice set my nerve endings on fire.
I chalked it up to a longstanding hatred turning into a visceral reaction. I’m hate-sick, pure and simple.
Then I came home to Valentina ready to karate chop me into the ground, clad only in paper-thin red satin.
I saw the outline of her nipples, for heaven’s sake.
Normally I’d appreciate the outfit. Literally, on anyone else, I would have rejoiced.
But perfect nipples on a she-devil were best ignored.
I somehow cobbled together dinner and conversation, relieved when she excused herself quickly and headed up to bed.
I check my watch and curse myself for agreeing to take her shopping today.
I should be working at my boutique, not handing everything over to Lottie, the woman I hired straight out of college five years ago.
She’s fully capable of running the show without me—and doing it well—but I like to stay involved in everything.
What’s the point of owning your own business if you hand over the reins completely?
“Val—” I call up the stairs, then cut myself off with a curse. “Landry! Let’s go!”
A door opens upstairs. Fuck. I can smell her already. Does she bathe in her perfume? Spritz on half the bottle with an evil grin on her face? Wouldn’t put it past her to put some pheromone in it that turns the entire male species feral just so she has an excuse to knife us.
Valentina descends the stairs like a queen at her coronation, nose high, shoulders back, and fingertips barely gliding down the wood banister.
She’s in a teal button-down shirt with the thick collar popped in the back and the sleeves rolled up to show off a stack of gold bracelets and a watch.
Her pants are replicas of yesterday’s, the crease starched so severely she could cut homemade sourdough with it.
Her heels, only slightly lower than yesterday’s, clack down the hardwood steps like a metronome of doom.
After the last step, she turns her head my way, eyes so stunning I have to fight myself not to stagger backward.
“I’ll never forget the first day we met, Deuce.” Her exquisite face transforms into a smile that makes my blood run cold. “But I’ll keep trying.”
Her eyes start to dance with some inner joy that should be studied by psychologists wanting to understand the mind of a psychopath.
It takes me a few seconds, but I finally understand what she’s doing.
I keep my tone dry when I reply. I would never give her the satisfaction of knowing her comment is actually quite amusing.
“Brushing up on your insults, are you?”
She tosses her ponytail behind her shoulder. She must own stock in hairspray to keep that slicked-back ponytail looking so lethal every day. “I just want to fit in.”
I snort, turning away to grab my keys. Valentina will never fit in.
Not even in New York where her harsh but beautiful look is appreciated.
She’s the kind of woman who stands out. Both from her good looks, but also the way she carries herself.
If life had turned out differently, she could have made a stunning model.
“Let’s go get some florals for you.”
Valentina growls behind me, but I hear her heels click their way toward the front door.
I lock it up, not something I normally do, but with Valentina hiding out here, I make it a priority.
I hustle over to open the passenger side door of my matte-black Mercedes AMG C-class.
Valentina sniffs like she’s not sure the vehicle is good enough for her, but she does fold herself into it.
I’m tempted to close the door before she pulls her foot inside, but I restrain myself.
We can’t all be violent. Plus, I don’t want blood on my baby.
We keep a nice charged silence in the car all the way into the downtown area.
I park on the far end of Eternity Street.
Valentina doesn’t wait for me to round the hood before she climbs out of the car.
I lift an eyebrow, but she ignores me. I already see heads turning to check her out. She sticks out like a sore thumb.
I grab her elbow and yank her down the sidewalk with me. “Come on, Cruella. We need to get you clothes. ASAP.”
She huffs, but picks up her pace to match mine. We make it into the Golden Halo without having to greet anyone, which is a relief. Maggie lifts her head from the register and calls out a greeting.
“Hey, Deuce! You look like a glass of fine wine this morning.”
The woman is beaming at me and I beam right back. Maggie just makes me happy. She makes everyone happy. That’s her superpower. She comes over and we air kiss both cheeks.
“Maggie, honey, this is Landry. My girlfriend.” The g-word sounds weird to my ears but I nod, going along with my own lie.
Maggie gasps and then pulls Valentina into a hug. Valentina’s eyes go wide, glaring at me over Maggie’s shoulder. She’s stiff as a fucking board, clearly not used to being hugged by strangers. Or maybe anyone. Valentina doesn’t give off hug vibes in general.
“Oh my goodness gracious! It’s so lovely to meet you!” Maggie pulls back, oblivious to Valentina’s discomfort, and leaves her hands on Valentina’s shoulders. “Look at you. You’re as gorgeous as a glazed ham on Easter Sunday!”
Valentina’s face looks like it’s going to crack. “Thank you?”
Maggie lets her go, slides her arm through Valentina’s, and pulls her into the boutique like they’re best friends already.
“Please tell me you’re here to shop. I have at least ten dresses that would look amazing on you.
Are you six foot? Gosh, I wish I had long legs like you.
I’d only wear miniskirts to show ’em off! ”
Valentina looks at me over her shoulder, a desperation in her eyes I don’t know that I’ve ever seen. I mouth the words, fit in, but that only makes Valentina shoot daggers at me. Maggie starts throwing clothes over her arm, then she fills Valentina’s arms, and they’re headed for the dressing rooms.
“Come sit, Deuce. Landry can do a fashion show for you!” Maggie pats a velvet chair fit for a king right outside the fitting room door.
Valentina shoots me a look that I’m pretty sure would have killed a lesser man. I smirk, both at her horror and to play my part of devoted boyfriend.
“I want to see them all, Landry, baby,” I purr.
I see Valentina reach for her ankle, then pause.
I’d bet my car she has a knife strapped under that pant leg.
That’s just so Valentina to go boutique hopping strapped to kill.
She straightens, and like a performer going onstage, her entire persona changes.
When she speaks, her raspy voice is dripping with a sweetness I know she doesn’t possess.
“Thank you so much, Maggie. You’re a life saver just like my sweet honeybear Deuce was telling me.”
Maggie positively beams before retreating to give Valentina privacy to change into the first outfit. Valentina yanks the curtain closed while I try to keep from bursting out laughing. Honeybear?
Maggie and I catch up—which is mostly her gushing about Rhett and Mary London having their baby yesterday. She’s already got ten pictures of the wrinkled little thing on her phone. She shows me each one and I give the required ooh and aah, right on cue.
The curtain whips back and Valentina stands there, face wiped of all emotion. She’s in an ankle-length floral dress with tiny straps over her shoulders and a cinched-in waist. Her breasts are highlighted like a tavern wench. Maggie gushes over the milkmaid style, whatever the hell that is.
“What do you think, Deuce?” Maggie finally says, turning around to present my girlfriend in all her floral finery.
“Finer than a frog hair split four ways,” I drawl, knowing it’ll both confuse and piss off Valentina.
Maggie swipes her hand through the air, already giggling. “You have all the lines for the girls, Deuce!”
Valentina just looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.
She whips the curtain closed again. Maggie ends up retreating to help other customers who come in, but Valentina shows me everything she tries on.
We settle on five skirts, ten dresses, and three blouses.
When I suggest she get some flat sandals, she whispers she’d rather shave her head.
It earns me another growl when I suggest she change into one of the outfits right now, but she leaves the dressing room with one of the yellow floral dresses on.
It doesn’t quite match with the heels, but she’ll fit in better just with the clothing change.
I wrap my arm around Valentina’s shoulders and pull her close. She growls again, which I’m starting to kind of like.
No. Wait. I don’t like it. I don’t like anything about Valentina Ricci.
“Let me go put my credit card down, baby,” I say loudly enough to make Valentina commit murder in her head.
“He’s such a charmer, isn’t he?” Maggie gushes as she starts to ring up our purchases. “You’re one lucky lady to pin him down, Landry. Deuce is Heaven’s resident flirt.”
Valentina swivels her head, her ponytail almost whipping me again. “Is that right?”
“It’s true!” Maggie continues, oblivious to the eye daggers being thrown at an alarming rate. “He’s such a brilliant businessman, and now head over heels for a woman. Almost makes me want to try dating again.”
Valentina tilts her head to the side, ruby-red lips pinched. “Brilliant businessman?” she whispers out of the side of her mouth. “I’ve seen brighter colors than you.”
My smirk turns to a genuine smile. “And now you own clothes in all those bright colors. Oh! And florals. We can’t forget the florals.” I flash my credit card at the point-of-sale machine like I’m some hero going on a clothing spree with my girlfriend.