I couldn’t believe the nerve of Shannon. Where did she get off ? She was nothing without Bryce, and she was just sitting there, defiant. If Dean weren’t here, I’d put her back in her shitty place. I knew exactly why Dean came. For starters, I invited him. His attendance made it look like he controlled me, and it gained sympathy points from Crystal. Second, I knew how Dean was. I counted on Dean to be Dean. And when he did, people might not see me as the evil one after all. He was tired of me causing trouble. He wanted me to act like a lady—quiet, calm, and collected. He wanted me to fit in with the other women. He wanted me to not bring any extra attention to us. He had always been secretive, but lately, his secrets were like a shadow over our relationship. I felt in the dark, and I was tired of feeling that way. Dean knew who I was when he married me: fiery, fearless, and a woman who will do whatever it takes to get what she wants. That’s why he fell in love with me in the first place.
I felt Dean’s eyes on me. I looked over and gave him a crooked smile. He smiled back and nodded as if he were pleased with me—like I was some animal or small child that was obeying his silent commands. That’s the thing with looks though: they’re quite deceiving.
I felt Crystal’s eyes on me. I glanced over at her. She was watching my and Dean’s moves intently. It was her pinched forehead, tightly pressed lips, and slightly narrowed eyes that indicated to me she was concerned. Clearly, our chat the other day had had an impact on her. Good.
Then, I looked over at Shannon, and I nearly laughed out loud. It was obvious she thought Bryce was responsible for that video, what with the way she was being so accusatory toward Crystal. But no . . . it was me. I’d take that little secret to the grave. A friend of mine who was at the restaurant caught the whole thing on video and sent it to me. I just couldn’t help myself. After all, Shannon had done something similar to me years ago, and I never forgot, nor will I ever. I can tell that video really got to her too. She’s different today—weaker, I think.
The front door chimed again, and before Jenny could get out of her chair to go and greet the guest, the curtains were already thrown open. In walked Mark. This should be interesting. Mark was clearly in love with me, and why wouldn’t he be?
“Hey . . .” Mark said, scanning the room. His eyes stopped on Dean and me. “What are you doing here?”
“Just enjoying a manicure and a drink with my wife,” Dean said, nonchalantly.
“What brings you here, Mark?” My voice was light and full of seduction. If Dean wanted to play games, I could play games too.
“Well, Karen and I have hardly seen each other, so I figured I’d join her for a manicure.” Lie. Mark glanced around. “Where is she?”
He clearly wanted to see me. I hadn’t been in contact with Mark since our last encounter, even though he had texted me many, many times. That was also a ploy of mine—make him wait and he’ll never tire of you.
“She’s in the back getting a wax,” Shannon piped up.
“Well, all right. I’ll just wait right here, if that’s all right with you, Jenny?” Mark took a seat directly across from me. Dean and Mark exchanged prideful looks. Mark’s face softened when his eyes met mine.
“The more the merrier, I suppose.” Jenny’s voice trailed off as she pulled her feet out of the tub of water. She dried them off quickly, grabbed two beers, and brought them to Dean and Mark.
“I don’t think you’ll need any reconstructive surgery,” Mark said, staring at Jenny’s face.
She furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”
He swallowed hard. “Olivia mentioned you might be in need of it . . . ya know, after the incident.”
Jenny narrowed her eyes at me. “She’s mistaken.”
“Oh, honey. I mentioned it to Mark out of concern. That’s all,” I said with a smile.
Jenny forced a small smile and took a seat. She’d never challenge me again. She was too weak for that now.
“Karen’s getting a wax . . . you two must have a hot date tonight.” I toyed with Mark.
He let out a laugh, then coughed, and straightened himself in his seat. “Actually, no we don’t. Haven’t had one of those in a while.”
“Sounds like you’re not tending to your wife’s needs?” Dean snarked.
“You’d know better than anyone,” Mark retorted.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean raised his voice. He frightened the manicurist so much that she jumped back and let out a gasp.
“He’s just messing with you.” I placed my hand on Dean’s forearm to try to calm him down. Mark was walking too close to that line. I took a mental note to punish him later for it. I knew he’d enjoy it—additional flogs for being a naughty boy—and I’d be sure to charge him extra next time. The money was for the pleasure and to keep my mouth shut. He didn’t love Karen, but he wasn’t ready to leave her. She was too vanilla for him. I didn’t want to be with Mark. I just liked to play. I enjoyed having secrets of my own.
Dean shook my hand off his arm.
“Calm down, Dean,” I pouted.
“Yeah, take it easy, man. I was just messing with you,” Mark said.
Dean waved his hand, dismissing him, and took a swig of his beer. “So, how’s business been?” Dean directed his question to Mark.
“Busy. Been traveling back and forth to Miami. The office there is sure taking off. Might have to relocate if it keeps going this way.” He took a swig of his beer.
“You and Karen are moving?” Shannon jumped in. Her face immediately wrinkled up in worry. Of course she’d be sad about that. Karen was basically her only ally and her only lifeline to any sort of social status in this town. As much as I would hate to lose the extra income, I think Mark and Karen moving would be a blessing for me.
“We haven’t discussed it yet,” Mark said matter-of-factly.
“I think that’s exciting. Miami would be a good fit for you two,” I said.
Mark gave me a somber look. “You want me . . . I mean us . . . to move?”
“What do you care what my old lady wants?” Dean raised an eyebrow.
“Obviously, because I’m one of his patients,” I quickly answered. “And please never call me ‘old lady’ again.”
“It’s a term of endearment, babe.” Dean bumped his shoulder against mine playfully.
“I don’t like it.”
“It suits you.” Shannon smiled.
I let that one go because Dean was sitting right beside me and I knew he wouldn’t appreciate the cattiness, so instead, I smiled back. “Well, if you two move, I’ll just have to travel to Miami for my treatments.”
“It’s always a pleasure,” Mark said.
“Karen would never leave her successful business behind,” Shannon said.
Everyone ignored her—as they should.
Crystal was still watching Dean and me intently. Shannon snacked on her second croissant, and Jenny was straightening up around the salon while keeping a close eye on all of us. Where the hell were Karen and Keisha? Waxes don’t take this long. Ha! Unless Karen has a field down there. She’s always been a bit unkempt.
“I think you could find a qualified plastic surgeon around here.” Dean took another swig of his drink.
“And I think it’s her body, so it’s her decision,” Mark challenged.
“He’s right.” I smiled.
“I think since I’m the one paying for it and she’s my wife, I have more of a say than she does, Mark.” Dean gritted his teeth. “Besides, it’s none of your business.”
Shannon sighed. “No one cares which plastic surgeon makes Olivia look like more of a blow-up doll. Can we talk about something else?” She rolled her eyes.
Dean, Mark, and I ignored Shannon again, while Jenny engaged her in a side conversation. Crystal was still acting like a fly on the wall, quiet and observing.
“We can discuss this at another time, Olivia,” Mark said with a small smile.
I nodded.