Whetted Appetites by Anastacia Kelley

robe.
         Victoria was about to tell him where he could stuff that remark when he breezed by—uninvited—into her living room.
         Of all the nerve!   Victoria fumed.  Just how in the world was she supposed to answer the door?  In her birthday suit?
         The notion did have merit.  That is, if Dalton was the one ringing her bell.  She mentally filed the thought away for later use.
         “If you hurry, we can still make it by ten,” Travis suggested as he made himself at home on her sage colored sofa.
         Victoria shut the front door and tried to tell him as calmly as she could about the misunderstanding.
         “Look, Travis,” she started, walking to the couch opposite him.  “I don’t know exactly what my mother told you, but there’s been some sort of misconception here.  I think----“
         Travis wrinkled her brows.  “What misconception?”  He frowned so hard that it was all Victoria could do not to laugh.  He didn’t look deep in thought.  He just looked constipated to her. 
         Victoria swallowed her laughter, almost chocking on it.  “I did not give the go-ahead on this date.”  She didn’t want to make her mother look bad, but she didn’t want Travis to think she was a liar or backing out at the last minute.  “I told my mother earlier that I didn’t feel like going out with anyone.  I didn’t give her permission to set me up.  She blatantly ignored my request.”  She smiled sympathetically.  “I’m sure----“
         “I will not be mocked, Victoria,” Travis hissed.
         “What?”  Victoria wasn’t mocking him at all.  What was his problem?
         “Travis, listen,” Victoria tried again.  “I’m sure you’ll find someone else you can take to brunch.”
         That only seemed to anger him more.  He stood up sharply.  “Don’t try to placate me.  I know your kind,” he sneered maliciously.
         Victoria stood up.  She had a feeling that it would be better if she did.  She didn’t want to give him even the smallest satisfaction of looking down on her.
         “My kind?”  Victoria’s tone went up a few decibels.  “I’m a human being, Travis.  And what business is it of yours on what kind of person I am?  Huh?”  She folded her arms across her chest defensively and stared at him, her gaze never wavering.  “I think you’d better leave.  Now!”
         “Oh, no.  We’re going out.  I’ve made plans for us and you’re sure as hell not going to ruin them.”
         How dare he try to order her around!
         Victoria fisted her hands on her hips.  “Well, excuuuse me.  I didn’t agree to anything.  I hardly know you.  We barely spoke as kids.  We sure as hell weren’t friends.”
         Travis’s laugh held no humor.  “What, are you intimidated by my wealth?  Is it that I have more money than God?”
         Victoria stared at him incredulously.  “Really?”  She looked down to study his shoes.
         Travis furrowed his brows.  “What are you looking at?”
    Victoria glared at him.  With a sarcastic tone she couldn’t help but use, she stated, “Well, it doesn’t…… appear you’re walking on any streets of gold.  Or that you ever will.  I do know He wouldn’t be whining like a pompous little ass, either.  Let’s leave God out of it, shall we?  Because I clearly see the devil in you right now, Travis.”
         Travis pursed his lips.  “Quite proud of that little speech, aren’t you, Victoria?”  He moved closer.  “Just go and get dressed.”  He reached for her but Victoria swiftly side-stepped him. 
         “I’m not getting dressed and I’m not—repeat NOT—going anywhere with you.  Now get out of my house!”  Her mouth twisted in disdain.  “With all of that damn money, I would at least think you could afford some manners.”
         “Why, you little bitch.  You shouldn’t use those