Vengeance(48)

“Mr. Davis,” I said, taking in all his fineness. “Nice to see you again.”

He frowned. “I thought we were on a first-name basis, but good evening, Miss Wicket.”

Jonovan had on a black tailored suit with a russet tie, and his date had on a dress that matched his tie. She was light-skinned with a weave on fleek and had a pretty smile. She still couldn’t hold a candle to me, though.

“Is this your little friend?” I nodded toward the woman. “You two look adorable together.”

“I’m Marilyn.” She reached out a manicured hand to shake mine. I barely touched hers but made a slight gesture of a handshake. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”

I wanted to say, Of course you are, bitch, but instead I replied, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

She eyed Jonovan, who had all eyes on me. “Baby, I’m going to find the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” he said, still looking at me.

“Why are you staring at me?” I asked, after Little Miss Marilyn had scattered away to take a piss. “You didn’t even look at your woman when she walked away. Just a word of advice: most females are offended by that kind of thing.”

“I’m sorry.” He broke his stare and looked in the direction where she had headed. “It’s just that . . . that . . .”

“That what?”

“There’s something about you that seems so familiar.”

My knees almost gave out.

“It feels like we’ve known each other for a lifetime. I felt that when I left your house that day, too.”

“Some people say that I’ve never met a stranger,” I lied. “I have that kind of personality but only with certain people.”

He started staring at me again, gazing in my eyes. “You remind me of someone I used to go to school with . . . here in Atlanta.”

Oh no! He recognizes me! How?

“Well, that would be an amazing feat, since I grew up in New York and was homeschooled my entire life.”

“I realize it’s silly. It’s just that I often wonder what happened to her.”

The logical thing would have been for me to ask questions about her, but that was not going to happen. He was talking about Caprice Tatum, and that was not a conversation that I wanted to have—ever.

“It must’ve been cool to actually have classmates and a lot of friends,” I commented.

Then it dawned on me why he was even there. We had all gone to school together and he was still connecting with the rest of them. But why, if he knew what they did to me?

“What brings you to this event?” I asked. “Covering it for G-Clef?”

“Pretty much. There are a couple of local singers here tonight, and one of them invited me. I actually know the hostess. We went to high school together, ironically.” He paused. “We don’t really speak like that, though.”

“You mean Bianca Lee?”

“Yeah, Bianca.”

I saw his eyes become dark and realized that he wasn’t feeling her after all. It was just business for him.

“She’s sweating me about decorating my house, so I stopped by. I’m not sure that I’m vibing well enough with her to utilize her services.”

“You may want to look elsewhere,” he said. “There are a lot of designers here in town.”

Good! He’s not trying to get her any business because he knows she’s a fucking liar!

“Miss Marilyn’s coming back for you.” I spotted her headed in our direction. “I’m about to roll, but have a good night.”

“She and I are not serious,” he made sure to tell me. “She’s actually more like a friend.”

I giggled. “Does she know that?”

I walked off before she got back to us. KAD followed as I searched for that other whore. I found her with her asshole of a man, Michael, cheesing for photos on the lower level.

She spotted me and rushed up to me. “Wicket! I’m so glad you’re here! I have a seat for you in the show!”

“I’m not staying for the little performance,” I said with disdain. “I’m on my way out.”

Cherie’s face almost dropped to the floor. “But I wanted you to see my fashions, and then I have some media that wanted to ask for your opinion afterward.”

“Unless you’re paying me five hundred grand to peddle your shit for the evening, I’m not giving any opinions. You do realize that people of my stature get paid to show up at events, to tweet or post status updates, and whatnot?”

“I realize that it could work that way, but—”

“And actually, I don’t even do any of that. Those are the ones stressing over exposure and who need the money.”