Page 174 of By A Thread

Page List

Font Size:

“How did I do what?” I asked wearily. I should have stayed upstairs. At least the graphics department was too afraid to ask me any direct questions.

“How did you convince Dominic Russo to put his job on the line foryou?” The emphasis made it clear that Malina didn’t think I was worth putting anything on the line.

“That’s personal. And this is work. I’m not discussing my personal relationship with you. Also, we’re not friends. At this point, I’d rather befriend Missie’s tarantula than you.” Copywriter Missie had a pet tarantula that she’d named Hercules.

“You think you have what it takes to keep a man like Dominic Russo?”

I actually had no idea what it would take and whether or not I had it.

“Did you ever have it checked?” I asked.

“What checked?”

“The thing that crawled up your skinny ass and died.”

“The weak never understand,” she scoffed.

“The weak?” I laughed. Seriously, someone had seenMean Girlsone too many times.

She looked me up and down. “The weak. The pathetic. The ones who show up where they don’t belong. You don’t belong on Christian James’s arm any more than you belong in Dominic Russo’s bed.”

“Who are you talking to, Mal? Me or you?” I shot back.

She bared her teeth at me. I realized the woman before me had years of practice in being a domineering bully. I shuddered when I thought of High School Prom Queen Malina.

“You think you’re so special,” she hissed.

“We’reallspecial,” I said, exasperated. “That’s the point. Me being special doesn’t make you less special. You being a douche to all of humanity factors in, though.”

“Fuck you, Ally.”

“No. Fuck you, Malina. We’re not in someHunger Gamescompetition for male attention,” I spat out. “Don’t you think you’re worth more than being some rich dick’s trophy lay?” I mean, at this point, I wasn’t sure she was. There didn’t seem to be a human being under all those layers of contouring and fillers.

“Now who are you trying to convince?” she shot back. “You follow Dominic around like a cat in heat.”

Ouch. That one hurt.

“You need to stop acting like men are some precious commodity and go find your soul somewhere. Because you are a truly horrible person, and right now, I don’t know if there is anyone on this entire island who would be sad if you got hit by a bus tonight.”

“Are you threatening me?” Her eyes narrowed to slits.

I rolled my eyes. “No. You idiot. I’m not threatening to steal a city bus and run you over with it. I’m trying to warn you. You’re young and smart and beautiful, and you are wasting it all on being a raging asshole. Do you really want to be on the receiving end of an alimony check from someone like Paul Russo? A man who used you and saw you as nothing more than an accessory? Or do you want to live and love and find some scrap of happiness or whatever your vampire equivalent is?”

I didn’t have the energy to dodge the slap. Plus I’d just caught a glimpse of a cheese danish that was calling my name and kind of missed the diva-worthy wind-up. The shithead caught me on my pre-existing bruises.

“That’s the only shot you get at me or anyone else I care about, Malina. So take your flat ass and your bony elbows home and think long and hard about what you want in this life,” I hissed.

She looked like she was thinking about hitting me again, and I looked for a nearby chair to hit her in the face with if necessary. But then the beautiful, soulless blonde whirled away from me and stormed toward the lobby.

I felt sorry for her. I mean, I totally hated her guts also. But somehow, me dating Dominic Russo had cracked this woman’s fragile sense of purpose. It wasn’t love she had for him. It was designs of a grander life. And, in her twisted, malnourished mind, I’d taken that opportunity away from her.

“Damn, girl. That looked like it hurt,” the cashier called to me. “You want a free ice cream?”

“I really do.”

“Take your pick, honey. That one is a rattlesnake.”

“How do you feel about being my witness if she tries to sue me or get me fired?”