Chapter One
“Who the fuck are you?” Vanessa shrieks, ripping the oversized sunglasses off her face.
I panic and slam the door. I’m practically panting as I lean back against it. I only get a split second reprieve before I am flung forward as she barges through the door anyway.
Probably should have locked that , I think to myself as I tumble to the floor.
“I asked you a question!” she yells.
The next few minutes play out like a scene from The Real Housewives of Orange County . As I turn to gather my sheet, she lunges forward, screaming and scratching. I huddle on the floor, trying my best to keep away from her fake nails that seem to double as talons, as she flings her arms in the air.
I can’t understand most of what she is screaming. Something about me being a home-wrecking whore.
Where is Ashley when you need her? Ashley would have thrown this chick out on her ass by now. She has brothers, and grew up learning how to be scrappy and fight dirty.
“What the fuck? Vanessa? Holy shit!” The loud swearing signals to me that Brandon has entered the fray.
Within a few seconds he hauls her off of me and manages to restrain her arms at her sides so she can’t assault anyone further.
“Cherry, are you all right?” he asks over his shoulder.
“Cherry? What are you? A stripper?” Vanessa sneers. “Or is that more of a hooker name?”
My mouth drops open but for the life of me, I can’t think of anything to say. Call me naïve, but I didn’t realize grown women actually talked to each other like this.
“Vanessa, shut the hell up,” Brandon growls. He releases her with a warning look. She backs up, her fists still clenched and eyes narrowed in my direction.
Brandon crosses back to where I am, still sitting on the floor. He squats down in front of me and his eyes search my face, gently touching a scratch on my cheek.
“Brandon, what the hell is going on? Did you invite her here?” I ask.
He speaks softly. “I’m so sorry, Charity, I have no idea how she even knew I was here. Listen, there’s a little bit of a crowd outside and I don’t want to attract any more attention. I’m going to deal with all this.” He turns back to her with a look of disgust. “But I need you to get dressed and once I get her out of here, give it five, ten minutes and then leave and go straight home. I’ll meet you back there as soon as I have this handled.”
He runs his thumb over my cheek again before standing up. He grabs Vanessa by the arm and starts to lead her out of the room.
“Bye, bye bitch,” she calls back to me.
“Vanessa, I am warning you,” Brandon hisses. “One more word out of you and I am calling the cops and having your ass arrested for assault. You think your daddy is going to be happy if he has to bail you out of jail?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she says.
“Try me.”
They stare at each other intensely for a beat, and Vanessa seems to back down. She still looks like she could fly into another rage at any moment, but she allows him to steer her from the room without further incident.
I stare her down as Brandon leads her out of the room, one of his hands firmly grasping around her tiny wrist.
Once they leave, it takes me a few minutes to gather myself, still slightly in shock, and get dressed. I take one final look around the room to make sure I’ve got everything. I peek outside the window and don’t see anyone lurking about. Assuming the coast is clear, I hoist my purse up on my shoulder and leave the room.
I try to keep my head up and act like I did not just get beat up by a girl that probably weighs less than a hundred pounds.
There are a few people loitering around, but no one seems to be paying any particular attention to me. I hurry to my car, pull out of the parking lot, and start heading home. I check the rear-view mirror every five seconds, like I’m some sort of paranoid CIA agent. I roll my eyes and force myself to drive like a normal person the rest of the way
“Who the fuck are you?” Vanessa shrieks, ripping the oversized sunglasses off her face.
I panic and slam the door. I’m practically panting as I lean back against it. I only get a split second reprieve before I am flung forward as she barges through the door anyway.
Probably should have locked that , I think to myself as I tumble to the floor.
“I asked you a question!” she yells.
The next few minutes play out like a scene from The Real Housewives of Orange County . As I turn to gather my sheet, she lunges forward, screaming and scratching. I huddle on the floor, trying my best to keep away from her fake nails that seem to double as talons, as she flings her arms in the air.
I can’t understand most of what she is screaming. Something about me being a home-wrecking whore.
Where is Ashley when you need her? Ashley would have thrown this chick out on her ass by now. She has brothers, and grew up learning how to be scrappy and fight dirty.
“What the fuck? Vanessa? Holy shit!” The loud swearing signals to me that Brandon has entered the fray.
Within a few seconds he hauls her off of me and manages to restrain her arms at her sides so she can’t assault anyone further.
“Cherry, are you all right?” he asks over his shoulder.
“Cherry? What are you? A stripper?” Vanessa sneers. “Or is that more of a hooker name?”
My mouth drops open but for the life of me, I can’t think of anything to say. Call me naïve, but I didn’t realize grown women actually talked to each other like this.
“Vanessa, shut the hell up,” Brandon growls. He releases her with a warning look. She backs up, her fists still clenched and eyes narrowed in my direction.
Brandon crosses back to where I am, still sitting on the floor. He squats down in front of me and his eyes search my face, gently touching a scratch on my cheek.
“Brandon, what the hell is going on? Did you invite her here?” I ask.
He speaks softly. “I’m so sorry, Charity, I have no idea how she even knew I was here. Listen, there’s a little bit of a crowd outside and I don’t want to attract any more attention. I’m going to deal with all this.” He turns back to her with a look of disgust. “But I need you to get dressed and once I get her out of here, give it five, ten minutes and then leave and go straight home. I’ll meet you back there as soon as I have this handled.”
He runs his thumb over my cheek again before standing up. He grabs Vanessa by the arm and starts to lead her out of the room.
“Bye, bye bitch,” she calls back to me.
“Vanessa, I am warning you,” Brandon hisses. “One more word out of you and I am calling the cops and having your ass arrested for assault. You think your daddy is going to be happy if he has to bail you out of jail?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she says.
“Try me.”
They stare at each other intensely for a beat, and Vanessa seems to back down. She still looks like she could fly into another rage at any moment, but she allows him to steer her from the room without further incident.
I stare her down as Brandon leads her out of the room, one of his hands firmly grasping around her tiny wrist.
Once they leave, it takes me a few minutes to gather myself, still slightly in shock, and get dressed. I take one final look around the room to make sure I’ve got everything. I peek outside the window and don’t see anyone lurking about. Assuming the coast is clear, I hoist my purse up on my shoulder and leave the room.
I try to keep my head up and act like I did not just get beat up by a girl that probably weighs less than a hundred pounds.
There are a few people loitering around, but no one seems to be paying any particular attention to me. I hurry to my car, pull out of the parking lot, and start heading home. I check the rear-view mirror every five seconds, like I’m some sort of paranoid CIA agent. I roll my eyes and force myself to drive like a normal person the rest of the way
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