"Yep." Along with a slightly more creative fuck you message. He could use Google to translate it.
"Good girl."
Yeah, there it was. That was the voice I wanted to hear say those words.
"Dirty, naughty, good girl."
How was it he knew exactly what I wanted to hear?
"That I am." It was fully time to embrace it. I'd take my time sleeping around, finding out what parts of sex I liked and what I wanted to try out with Grayson. I knew it would be a while before he was ready, but that was okay. I needed a while before I was ready to be with him. Because when I did, it wouldn't be a one-night stand. I had some rebounding to do first.
"What's next, Angel?"
I slid back into the comfort of the seat and grinned at the world, at Marc, at Gray. "Take me home. But tonight we're going out again."
Gray chuckled. "Oh fuck. I've created a monster in you, haven't I? A succubus, or Aphrodite, I'm not sure which."
"And Gray?"
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror like I was about to pounce on him. As fun as that might have been, not yet. "I want you to take me to The Asylum."
He shook his head, the smile fading. "I don't know about that."
Last night he'd been ready to take me. What had changed?
I guess I had.
"I do. I've been a goody-goody doing what daddy said, and really it was no life at all. I'm done with that."
Only the good die young, and I wanted to live.
I wanted to love, too. Real love. Not the Fifth Avenue version of it, but the kind that consumed the heart, body, and mind.
I glanced at Grayson, my friend, my more-than-friends-but-not-quite-lovers guy.
Mine.
But I wasn't yet his.
I still had some trash to take out anyway. I may have kicked Marc out, but there would be repercussions.
CHAPTER NINE
The Fuck You
Dios mio. I was the scandal of the country club. A broken engagement and whisperings from the biggest gossips to ever see a golf course that I'd cheated on Marc would do that.
I sat at the club's bar sipping my lemon drop martini. The glares burned into my back from goody-two-shoes and her gossipy friend goody-two-thousand-dollar-shoes. I distinctly heard the words "fat," and "whore" coming from their tête – à – tête. Their insults only served to make my spine stronger and straighter.
It was the same playground antics. Not like I hadn't suffered the exact insults since my chubby-cheeked childhood.
These were my people when I was the good little rich girl. When Marc had been cheating on me and I was happily miserable. Now that the truth was revealed, my so-called friends were showing their inner donkey-butts.
I needed new friends.
I needed a new life.
I wouldn't even be here if my father hadn't insisted I show myself and deny the accusations. He actually wanted me to make up with Marc.
His golden boy.
What my father would really love is to tell me he was going to cut me off, like all his other cronies threatened to their children.
He hated that I had more money than he did.
Ha.
The only leverage he had against me now was to attack from within the ranks of the social elite I mistakenly thought would be on my side.
A week ago I would have died, then come back and zombie slapped anyone who even suggested I would be happy sans fiancé and my country club friends. Times had changed. I changed.
Today I wore a skirt that hugged my thighs and ample ass, a shirt cut low enough that more than my cleavage showed and an attitude that said "fuck you all, I'm having fun."
I did my time. Saved face for dear old dad. Now I was out of here.
I took one last swallow and slid my empty glass across the bar. Right when I stood up all the big screen TVs in the club lounge which were set to Sunday golfing, flickered and a dark grainy image appeared.
Everyone, including me, squinted up at the screens trying to make out the blobby figures. Were we being taken over by aliens? World War three?
The person behind the camera moved in and the scene came into focus.
Holy virgin Mary of Guadalupe.
It was Marc...and Mindy. Fucking their brains out.
"Yeah, that's right Min. You're my little whore aren't you?"
"Yes, yes. I'll be whatever you want if you just fuck me harder."
The porno version of Marc grabbed Mindy's hair and pulled her head back as he grunted like a pig-baboon rutting.
If the tape continued, I'd bet all my millions that you see me on the screen in about two more minutes walking into that bathroom.
I knew because this recording was from the night of my engagement party right here in this very club. I recognized Mindy's dress pushed up over her back as Marc plowed her ass. I'd picked out the tie swinging around his neck.
I shrugged and took another sip of the sweet liquor. Enough of it would cover the bitter bite of betrayal. A girl needed to see that kind of shit going down with her own eyes. The sight of Marc plowing Mindy's bunghole would be burned into my brain forever.
That way I wouldn't make the same mistake.
No need watching what I already knew about. I glanced around the room enjoying the reactions and revulsion on the prim and proper faces of the members. Those I expected. None had the telltale smugness of the one who'd pulled this prank.
Who'd made the recording and put it up for everyone to see?
I had a good idea.
I'd be mad at Gray for not telling me he knew about this betrayal, but if he had, I would have missed the shunning Marc and Mindy were also getting. That made every dirty look, every whispered insult, and all the fiery arrows poking my psyche from the inside out totally worth it.
Gray was nowhere to be found, but his voice came up on the video. "Too bad you're such a dumbass, Sparky. Because you could have had this."
The screen morphed from sweaty gross Marc to...me.
Except I wasn't gross at all. I was fucking gorgeous. Was that even me? My eyes were closed, head thrown back, and pure ecstasy lit up my face.
He'd done an excellent job of editing the two videos together. Marc was a pig. I was the ultimate sex-goddess.
Still. I was gonna kill Gray.
This was way beyond the sexy photos I'd sent to Marc yesterday. That revenge has felt good. This?
They say revenge is best served cold. I was hot all over.
I swiveled the stool around so I could see every lying sack of shit in the place. Including dear old dad.
The plethora of dirty looks from the club members had me feeling distinctly unwelcome.
There was a great big part of my that wanted to cringe and skulk away in shame.
Yeah. I'd done something the rest of them only ever fantasized about. It was real and raw and rebellious.
Everyone around me was fake and fake and fake.
Fuck them all. I didn't want to be there anyway.
That's why Gray tacked my film debut onto the end of Marc's trashy sex tape. To show me this.
It wasn't just Marc, or Mindy, or my father who were pretended to love me. There wasn't a person in this room with a tiny modicum of depth or caring for anyone besides themselves.
How had I been a part of this world for so long?
I hated it.
I hated them.
I hated me when I was with them, being one of them.
I raised the fresh drink someone else had ordered that sat on the bar, toasted the onlookers and sucked down the tasty beverage. A wink to the cute bartender and I threw my glass into the two-hundred-year-old fireplace.
There you go, something else for everyone to gawk at. I walked away from the false ideals of a real woman in my Louboutin stripper-heels I'd never had the guts to wear before, but that were perfect for this particular occasion.
I had my own life to live and it certainly wasn't with anyone in this outdated den of iniquity.
The twenty-five thousand-dollar French doors made a perfect backdrop for my liberation. I threw them open, took my hair out of tight up-do, shook it, and flipped the members staring at my round plump ass, the finger.
I had fallen from the ivory tower like a tainted angel.
Every inch of that fall developed armor I'd been missing. I loved almost every second of it. The one-night stand and the scandal.
I loved Gray for opening my eyes to what I was becoming.
The part I was still struggling with was my non-relationship status with him. We were friends, he worked for me, he'd seen me naked doing dirty-fun things with two other men, and yet he wouldn't even touch me.
He'd touched himself, alright. Plus he'd made that video. Which meant he'd watched it again. Probably a whole bunch of times.
He was hot and then cold, then colder, then hawt.
Damn it. I was going to figure him out. Right after I read him the riot act for putting me on those TVs without warning me.
"Angie, wait." Marc ran out after me. I recognized Marc's tone. It was the same one he used when he wanted money.
Mindy slunk in the shadows under the portico. I wanted to feel sorry for her. She could do so much better. But I guess every woman had to learn that lesson for herself.