Page 23 of I Summoned A Demon For A Date?!
Each perfectly delivered suggestion from Aldaine - "Perhaps if you didn't grip it quite so desperately" and "The goal is to hit the ball, not assault it" - caused Roger's face to cycle through increasingly vibrant shades of red. With each comment, his complexion darkened until I swore he resembled one of Jan's prized tomatoes from her garden.
The sight of my ex being slowly and methodically taken apart by my demon date's razor-sharp commentary was oddly satisfying, especially given how many times Roger had bragged about his athletic prowess back in high school. I bit my lip to suppress a smile, remembering all those insufferable Saturday afternoons I'd spent on metal bleachers, watching him preen and flex after every minor accomplishment on the field. Now here he was, being schooled in the genteelart of croquet by someone who probably played the game when it was first invented centuries ago.
Rita snorted. "I like him. He's exactly what you need."
I watched Aldaine demonstrate a perfect shot, his ball sailing through three wickets in succession. He caught my eye and winked.
"Yeah, he kind of is." That was the problem, wasn't it?
I lined up my next shot, trying to focus on the game when Stephany's voice rang out behind me.
"Oh Rosie, I've been meaning to ask." Her sugary-sweet tone made my teeth ache. "Is it true what I heard about you and Aldaine? That you were so desperate to keep your apartment you agreed to, well, you know." She gestured vaguely, making sure everyone within earshot could hear.
My cheeks burned as several women turned to stare. Rita stepped closer to me, her presence supportive.
"I mean, it wouldn't be the first time, right?" Stephany continued, her smile sharpening like a knife. "Isn't that why you lost your last job? Because you wouldn't sleep with your boss? You just decided to give in this time. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose." She tossed her perfect hair over her shoulder, clearly enjoying the whispers spreading around us like wildfire.
My pool cue nearly snapped in my grip. Months of unemployment, dwindling savings, and endless rejection letters had been humiliating enough. Now Stephany was dragging my professional nightmare into public view, twisting it into something even more degrading. The worst part was how easily everyone seemed ready to believe her version of events.
Before I could respond, movement from the men's side caught my eye. Aldaine had removed his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves to reveal tanned forearms. He caught my gaze and slowly loosened his tie, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.The simple act somehow managed to be the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.
Stephany's face contorted into an ugly sneer, her perfectly glossed lips pulling back from her teeth like a predator revealing its weapons. The flawless makeup she'd spent hundreds on couldn't mask the cruelty beneath.
"Remember prom night, Rosie? When Roger realized what a mistake you were?" Her voice took on that familiar razor's edge that had sliced through my confidence so many times before, the same tone she'd used when commenting on my dress size at family dinners or "helpfully" suggesting diet plans during Christmas.
"He made quite the statement, didn't he? Leaving you crying in the middle of the dance floor while we had sex in front of everyone with clothes on." She emphasized each word like pressing thumbtacks into a bulletin board, making sure they stuck deep.
The memory flashed before my eyes. My emerald green dress I'd saved six months to buy, mascara streaming down my face while the lights cast shifting patterns over everything, including Roger's hands traveling down Stephany's back to places that should have been off-limits in public. The whispers that followed me for the rest of senior year echoed in my ears: "poor Rosie," "did you see her face," "what did she expect?"
I deliberately kept my gaze fixed on Aldaine as his elegant fingers worked that top button loose, the simple action drawing my attention like a magnet. His dark eyes held mine with an intensity that made Stephany's presence fade to meaningless background noise. That old memory of standing alone in my powder blue dress, mascara tracking down my cheeks, seemed to belong to someone else now, some other girl from a lifetime ago.
"Are you even listening to me?" Stephany's voice climbed to that shrill pitch that used to make me flinch. Her perfectlymanicured hands gestured wildly in my peripheral vision. "I'm talking about how Roger dumped you in front of everyone and kissed me right there! You ran out crying like the pathetic little shit you are!"
The words that once would have sent me spiraling now bounced off harmlessly, like rain against a window. Something had shifted inside me, a realignment that even Stephany's poison couldn't penetrate. I found myself fascinated instead by the way Aldaine's throat moved as he swallowed, the defined line of his Adam's apple sliding beneath smooth chestnut skin. The slight quirk of his lips suggested he was thoroughly enjoying the show—not as a spectator but as someone appreciating a performer coming into their own.
The demon's presence felt like armor, turning my stepsister's best barbs into nothing more than desperate attempts to wound someone who'd finally outgrown her reach. Four months of unemployment had taught me what true humiliation felt like; Stephany's playground tactics seemed almost quaint by comparison.
"So?" I shrugged, turning back to my shot with a deliberate casualness that made Stephany's mouth twitch. I leaned over, measuring the angle with newfound confidence. The ball rolled smoothly through the wicket with a satisfying click, and I couldn't help but smile at Rita's enthusiastic high five, her fingers warm against mine. For the first time since arriving at the estate, I felt relaxed.
The sound that came from Stephany's throat was somewhere between a scream and a growl. I glanced over just in time to see her designer sandal stomping into the perfectly manicured grass.
"You little bitch!" She shrieked, her face turning an alarming shade of red. "You think you're so much better now with your fancy boyfriend? He probably feels sorry for you! That's the only reason anyone would date someone like you!"
I lined up another shot, purposefully taking my time. "Rita, what do you think about trying that chocolate fountain I saw under the blue tent after this?"
"Oh my god, yes!" Rita clapped her hands. "Did you see they have fresh strawberries too?"
Stephany's mallet went sailing through the air, landing with a satisfying crash in Jan's already damaged rose bush. White petals exploded into the air like confetti at a particularly angry party.
"Stephany Marie!" Jan's voice cut through the air like a whip. She appeared seemingly out of nowhere, her perfectly coordinated outfit almost vibrating with contained fury. "What do you think you're doing?"
"But Mom!" Stephany's voice hit that pitch that used to make dogs howl in high school. "She's ruining everything! She's supposed to be miserable! And that boyfriend of hers!"
"Not. Another. Word." Jan's fingers wrapped around Stephany's upper arm in what looked like an iron grip. "You are making a scene."
I watched with barely concealed amusement as Jan practically dragged my stepsister across the lawn, Stephany's protests becoming increasingly childish with each step. Several of the guests were failing to hide their own entertainment behind raised champagne glasses.
"Well," Rita drawled, twirling her mallet like a baton. "That was worth the price of admission alone."
