Power Play by Deirdre Martin Page B

“No.”
    â€œOf course,” said Monica.
    Chessy floated inside like a fairy princess entering an enchanted garden. “Oh,” she said breathlessly.
    Oh yourself, you brain-dead twit, thought Monica. “Chessy, this is my boyfriend, Eric.”
    â€œThat’s why I’m he-ere,” Chessy sang. “I wanted to meet my favorite hockey player ever .”
    Monica glanced around, looking for a garbage pail she could throw up into. Eric started to rise from the couch, but Chessy waved him back down. “Oh, don’t get up,” Chessy said. “There’s no need.”
    Eric sat back down as Chessy came slinking over to him. From Cinderella to vamp in three seconds flat. Maybe she could act after all.
    â€œI’m Chessy,” she said breathily, leaning so far over him that her boobs were practically touching Eric’s face.
    â€œUh . . .” Eric appeared too stunned to speak. When Chessy stood back up, Monica caught the gleam of lust in Eric’s eyes. She was certain that if he parted his lips, he might drool on himself. Pissed, she turned to Chesty.
    â€œShouldn’t you be on the set?” Monica asked sharply.
    â€œIn two,” said Chessy. “But I wanted to make sure I met Eric in case he was leaving soon.” She glanced back and forth between Monica and Eric. “We should all go out sometime. It would be fun.”
    Oh, yeah, thought Monica. As enjoyable as an enema. “Would you mind leaving Eric and me alone now?” she murmured, perching on the arm of the couch so she could run her fingers through Eric’s hair. “We have some things we need to talk about, if you know what I mean.”
    Chessy flashed a terse smile. “Of course.” Her eyes moved to Eric. “It was so great to meet you,” she said in a low, kittenish voice. “I’m sure we’ll cross paths again sometime.”
    â€œSure,” said Eric, sounding slightly dazed.
    â€œAu revoir,” said Chessy, blowing a kiss.
    Monica forced a smile and waited for the door to close.
    Â 
    â€œOw! What the hell are you pulling my hair for?!”
    Eric looked upset as Monica released the hank of his hair she’d twisted around her knuckles. The second Monica estimated Chesty was out of hearing range, she’d given Eric’s locks a good yank, since her hand was in his hair anyway.
    â€œHow stupid are you?” Monica hissed.
    â€œWhat?” Eric asked confusedly.
    â€œWe’re supposed to be a couple , remember? But there you were, ogling the silicone twins.”
    â€œI was not ogling. I was appreciating.”
    â€œYou’re my boyfriend! You shouldn’t be appreciating anything but me!”
    â€œBut I’m not really your boyfriend!” Eric protested.
    â€œBut you’re supposed to act like you are!”
    â€œWell, even guys who are part of a couple sometimes look ,” Eric insisted.
    â€œNot when they’re with me,” Monica said with a glare. She made a beeline for the bathrobe she kept hanging on the back of the door, digging out the one pack of cigarettes she kept stashed in one of the pockets. She knew it was bad, but she’d started smoking again—not a lot, just one or two a day to get her through. Eric looked horrified as she lit up.
    â€œDon’t say it, because I don’t want to hear it,” she warned him.
    Eric was silent.
    â€œIf people are going to believe we’re together, you can’t stare at other women’s boobs!”
    â€œShe shoved them in my face!”
    â€œNo kidding.” Monica snorted. “I half expected her to offer to nurse you.”
    â€œThat is totally gross.” Eric coughed. “I can’t breathe.”
    â€œOh, for God’s sake,” said Monica, snuffing out her cigarette. “Better?”
    â€œMuch.” Eric paused. He smiled slyly. “It really bothered you, didn’t it?”
    â€œWhat really