Page 72 of Her Devil

We piss each other off almost as much as we turn each other on, but time is running out, and whilst the noose tightens around both our throats, I’m not willing to let her be the one to fall with it.

“What did you have in mind?”

TWENTY-TWO

RUBY

“Do we really need to do this today?” I grumble as the four of us pile out of the back of the black SUV. What I don’t say is that I’m not ready. It wouldn’t matter even if I did.

“You could at least pretend to be excited,” Amy says with a roll of her eyes. “Everyone else is.”

As we head into the little coffee shop, she’s not wrong, each of the other girls fluffs up their hair, checking in their tiny mirrors and giggling away with each other.Fucking ridiculous. If we were meeting with The Devils, then maybe I’d consider going the extra mile, but for their bitches? I don’t fucking think so. But then, I’m not like the rest of these girls.Understatement of the century.

“Cheer up, Rubes,” Maggie calls. “At least you’ll get a free coffee out of it.”

Bitch.

“Ladies, grab your tables. They’ll be here in ten minutes,” Amy intervenes, cutting off any retort.

The SUVs have already disappeared, probably on their way to collect the princesses so they can shower us with their wisdom, or however the hell this is supposed to work. I grab my phone, tapping words out into a message, only to delete them again.He doesn’t want to hear from me anyway.

Fancy coffee arrives and huge portions of cake that no self-respecting person would attempt to eat in front of a stranger, clearly some kind of test as I pull one towards me and grab a fork. The not-so-hushed intake of breath draws my attention to the cars as they pull up and the unfazed group of women climb from it.

Whoever their coordinator is greets Amy outside, the two of them doing that fake air kiss thing that makes me want to smash their heads together. I ignore them completely, only aware they’ve come in by the waft of expensive perfume and the tittering of the girls that came with me.

“Hey, you must be Ruby.” I look up at her through my lashes, her perfectly pleasant smile front and centre as she takes the seat opposite me. “I’m Ivy. It’s nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t offer her hand out for me to shake, instead grabbing the other slab of cake and a tiny fork and taking a delicate sliver from the edge before nodding her appreciation and taking a bigger piece the second time around.Well, at least she’s not a complete priss.

“I knew the coffee was good here but I hadn’t considered the baked goods might be worth trying,” she admits. “I guess that could be the diet going straight out the window.”

Diet.Eye roll.Yeah, she looks like the kind of girl who spends her entire life on a diet.

Her hair falls perfectly over her shoulders, her makeup light and natural as she smiles at me, waiting for me to engage with her in conversation probably. She shrugs her blazer off, draping it over the back of the chair, her sleeveless chiffon blouse a display of not only the money she throws on clothes but the amount of work she puts into keeping those arms toned and her physique in check.

Carefully placing the fork on the empty plate, I push it to the centre of the table, tugging the sleeves of my cardigan down and wrapping my hands around the large ceramic mug and letting its heat seep through my fingers and into my hands.

“I’m not sure how long we’ve got together today,” she continues. “But I think the idea is that we get to know each other a little.”

She doesn’t bother to look around at the other tables, but I know she hears the conversation flowing easily, the laughter. But none of that is going to come easily with us, it would be too obvious if it did.

“So, I guess that means that I’m starting.” She smiles, taking a sip of her coffee. “I’m hoping to become a psychologist. I have big dreams of running my own practice and being available to celebrities at any given time, hour, or day. Hoping to give those people with high powered jobs and huge pressures an alternative release to the ones they usually go to.”

“You mean drugs.”

“Yes, I mean drugs,” she replies. “Or alcohol… sex. People turn to many different things to seek out the support and connection that they’re missing in their everyday lives.”

I nod, like any of this interests me or will affect me in any way.

“But I’m hoping to only be at Pendleton Prep for this one year. Next year I’m hoping to be at University and taking the first steps towards that dream.”

“Aren’t you old enough to be there now?” I ask.

“I am.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“It’s complicated.”

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