How to get even, p.2
How to Get Even, page 2
‘Ooh, I like that,’ Astrid added.
‘Me too,’ Bella said, and she did. Because it meant that the universe had decided it. Not four women who had quite possibly consumed more alcohol than was advisable.
‘Okay, yeah,’ Paige said, nodding once, definitively. ‘Okay.’
Bella felt everyone’s eyes on her as she took out her phone.
‘Olly, a friend of mine needs a place to stay in Cornwall for a bit in the New Year. She’s very nice and won’t bother you,’ she read as she typed.
She paused. It needed something more.
‘You have room,’ she typed. ‘And you owe me,’ she added for good measure, before hitting send and putting the phone onto the table.
And there it sat, in the centre of their circle, everyone staring at it as if it were an unexploded bomb.
Don’t answer it.
Answer it.
Her conscience wavered back and forth. A nervous silence stretched over the table until it became almost funny until the incoming text chimed and startled them all.
‘Is she a Roger Prendergast groupie?’ she read out loud.
Not, lovely to hear from you. How are you? How have you been? Are you okay after telling our family and friends that I couldn’t bring myself to marry you?
When Paige admitted that she didn’t know Olly’s famous actor father, Bella typed out a single word, ‘No.’
And his response was lightning fast.
‘He says fine,’ Bella confirmed, unable to believe how easy that was.
Because that’s what it had been. Easy. And now, all of a sudden, Paige, a virtual stranger, was going down to Cornwall to stay with her ex-fiancé to wreak revenge for her. And she was going to take revenge against Astrid’s married lover Chase Miller.
But as she looked around the similarly shocked faces of women who she knew with absolute conviction were no longer strangers but friends who had bonded deeply, no matter how quickly, she felt something that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Excited.
‘Okay then,’ Paige said with a smile. ‘Looks like I’m off to Cornwall.’
Without quite knowing how, another bottle of prosecco arrived on the table, and Astrid filled their glasses.
‘To just desserts,’ she announced as ‘Last Christmas,’ could be heard over the PA system and they all tapped their glasses together.
Paige took a hefty swallow and turned to Bella. ‘Now, tell me more about this Olly.’
With the table now littered with water bottles and packets of chips, a concession to savoury carbs that they had all agreed on, Bella sat back in her chair. She was surprisingly exhausted after info-dumping an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of the man she’d been about to marry onto Paige who had just excused herself to make a phone call.
Bella was beginning to sober up and the sugar high was threatening to turn into a sugar crash. She’d thought that perhaps that might make her see sense. Might make her feel a little wary about what they had agreed. But it hadn’t.
If anything, this gave her something to do over the Christmas period. Something to think about instead of her parents’ awkwardly given concern. It gave her something to plan. And Bella was very good at plans.
She picked up her phone, pulled up Google and typed in Chase Miller.
The first few hits were various photos of him in poses that would be considered an ‘artist at work’. Bella huffed out a cynical laugh. He probably had art assistants who did most of the actual painting. The next result was a picture of Chase grimly staring into the camera lens.
‘That’s from my profile. The one I wrote,’ Astrid said, leaning over and peering at her screen. ‘It’s how we met,’ she explained.
Bella scanned the piece. ‘It’s good,’ she observed. ‘It’s really good.’
‘I know,’ Astrid said, with an easy, and wholly justified, confidence.
Astrid’s profile was informative, easy to read, and wry. Her personality shone through but didn’t dominate, giving a solid impression of her subject. It was as if Bella was reading a meeting of the minds and she could see how Astrid would have found Chase Miller fascinating.
Fascinating and dangerous.
And clearly a lying, cheating, scumbag.
As she swiped to another page, the announcement of a new gallery opening in New York caught her eye.
CHASE MILLER TO HEAD NEW YORK NAYAK GALLERY THIS SPRING.
Bella frowned. Why would someone in supposedly the height of their creative career take a job as gallery director?
What was he running from? Probably from another scandal, Bella thought. That was how these men worked, wasn’t it? For all they knew, Astrid could have been just the tip of the iceberg. Well, Bella wasn’t going to let that happen. He didn’t get to just start all over again. None of them did.
Then she caught sight of a job posting.
Communications director for Nayak New York.
Huh.
Well. She did have some time to kill before she took up her role at her parents’ foundation, didn’t she?
She felt Astrid’s gaze on her.
‘What?’
‘I don’t know what you’re planning,’ Astrid said, ‘but the look in your eyes says you’re up to no good. And I like it.’
Bella bit the inside of her cheek but couldn’t stop smiling. Astrid was right. Because Bella, the perennially good girl, was about to do some very bad things. And Chase Miller wouldn’t even know what hit him.
1
All warfare is based on deception.
THE ART OF WAR, SUN TZU
Just Desserts WhatsApp Group. 15.05 EST.
Astrid
Bella, you’re panicking, aren’t you?
Sienna
Are you? Are you okay?
Paige
A little panic is understandable.
Bella bit her lip. She was very much trying not to panic, but as she let herself into her brand-new apartment with absolutely huge floor-to-ceiling windows that beckoned her towards them with a display of Central Park that most Americans would give their right arm for, it was safe to say that her current state was absolutely and undeniably one of panic.
What on earth had she got herself into?
Astrid
Are you in yet? What’s the flat like?
The serviced apartment was amazing. Bella was hardly a stranger to wealth, but this? She turned around in a circle, taking in the modern kitchen, laundry facilities and near futuristic amenities. The apartment had a voice-activated home assistant, and twenty-four-hour access to a concierge who had already let her know about a delivery waiting for her. Her family had country money, old money. But this? This was city money. Urban. Luxurious. Modern.
She placed her bag on the kitchen island and took in the minimalist design that defined elegance. A buttery soft caramel leather sofa set bracketed a fireplace, the surround a modern concrete strip against the clean white walls. A large cream sheepskin rug sat on hardwood flooring that warmed the grey tones of brushed chrome furnishings.
It should have looked cold and uninviting, but it was easy to imagine herself curled up on the sofa covered in a blanket, or bare toes curling in that sheepskin. In a daze she wandered towards the door off the living area and entered a bedroom that stopped her in her tracks.
Her phone buzzed from messages flying back and forth between the girls, but Bella barely noticed. At least half were from Astrid who was also in New York and trying to find time in a very busy schedule for them to meet up.
Here too, floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of Manhattan that was breathtaking. Winter’s dusk painted the sky in remarkable shades of pinks and early evening purples. A few stars were out already, peeking down on the snow-covered rectangle of Central Park stretched out in front of her.
Of course, the position comes with an apartment, Tejvir Nayak had informed her eagerly during their second interview over video conference. His willingness to hire her had surprised her, even though Paige – who had finessed Bella’s CV with something bordering on ruthlessness – had insisted that she would be a shoe-in for it.
Having applied for the job in between Christmas and New Year she’d not expected to hear anything until mid-January at the earliest, so it had been quite the surprise to find a reply waiting in her inbox the following morning.
‘He’s desperate,’ Astrid had announced gleefully.
‘I wonder why the previous person left,’ Sienna had asked.
‘Does it matter?’ Paige had intervened.
Not. One. Bit. Bella had decided.
Tej Nayak had been affable and laid back to a point that nearly caused Bella concern, but as the job was simply a means to an end it hardly mattered. In fact, Tej had been almost more excited about the apartment she would be staying in than the role of communications director she would be filling.
You’re gonna love it. And just wait until you try the shower, her new boss had said affably, while Bella wondered if that was entirely appropriate. It has everything you could need. And if it doesn’t? Then let me know, and we’ll get it for you.
Paige
Have you seen him yet?
Him. Her target. Chase Miller. The cheating scumbag who had betrayed his wife and an unknowing Astrid. Bella wandered towards the incredible view, barely seeing the wintery magic of New York stretched out beneath her. And just like that, panic melted like ice beneath the salt of her fury.
It had been hard for her to be angry with Olly, which she knew was crazy. The girls’ outrage at his behaviour had soothed a wound she’d been hiding from the world. Hidden, because Bella Carmichael didn’t get angry. Didn’t cause a fuss, or make a scene.
And even though Olly had stood her up in front of nearly four hundred of their closest friends and family… she knew he hadn’t meant to. Well, no… he absolutely 100 per cent had meant to, actually. He’d done so because it was easier to leave her to clean up his mess. And he’d known she’d do it. Because that was what she did.
But she also saw how he would have struggled to tell her that he couldn’t go through with it. How it all would have become too much for him. But Olly was different to Chase Miller. Because there was absolutely no justification for what he’d done. None whatsoever.
Bella
I haven’t met him yet. But I promise, when I do, he’ll rue the day.
Sienna
Oh, I love it when you talk posh like that.
Bella smiled, taking the affectionate teasing from Sienna exactly as it was meant.
Astrid
Have you figured out what you’re going to do to him yet?
Perhaps if she’d known Bella for longer, Astrid wouldn’t have even asked the question because Bella had everything short of a PowerPoint presentation on how she was going to ruin Chase Miller. She had ordered a copy of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, and decided that the book of military strategies and tactics was perfect to help her get even with Astrid’s ex. She’d filled an entire journal with research she’d done during the awkward Christmas she’d spent with her family and sister… and Bea’s new fiancé.
Bella swallowed, hating herself for feeling mean about her sister. Bella would never begrudge her sister’s happiness. But Bella couldn’t help but remember how she and Olly had announced their engagement. How her parents had oohed and ahhed over her engagement ring.
Her father had seemed rather impressed by Olly, who she’d met at a charity gala for Non-Hodgkin lymphoma. She’d known of Oliver Prendergast, of course. You couldn’t be female and not know of him. And while on the surface the son of the famed British actor had been exactly what she’d expected – 99 per cent charm – there had been something deeper that had called to her. He was educated, bright, witty. He’d made her laugh and when he’d asked for her number, she’d given it to him.
Over the next few months they’d met up when he was visiting New York, or when she was near California and they’d fallen into a long-distance relationship. And the glimpses she got of the real Olly, the one behind the mask, were enough to make her believe that they had something special.
Then his father had died and he’d seemed so lost that she’d wanted to be there for him. Bella hadn’t minded making the preparations for the funeral, managing his family and bringing them all together. So then when Olly had asked her to marry him, it had felt like the natural progression of their relationship. She’d honestly thought that he was ready, wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. And she had what she’d always wanted: her person. Someone who would stand by her. Who would keep her. Who would choose her.
But she’d been wrong. And now her sister was embarking on the life that she’d always wanted and Bella hated how hard that was to watch. But she’d shoved her hurt behind a locked door, and taken Bea, who deserved every damn bit of happiness coming to her, into her arms and told her truthfully how happy she was for her.
Only her mother hadn’t looked wholly convinced. But when she’d tried to ask Bella about it, Bella had shaken it off. Because she was fine, wasn’t she?
So, it had been a blessed relief to be able to beg off the family festive joy a little and focus on exactly what would be the perfect karmic comeuppance for a man like Chase Miller. And while her family thought that she was prepping for a job interview, which she had been, she’d also been working out how to make a man like that hurt.
Because it wasn’t through his heart. He clearly didn’t have one.
No. It was his ego. His reputation. His standing in the art world.
Bella
Oh yes, don’t you worry about that. I have a plan.
Chase Miller had a headache. One of those take-me-out-back-and-kill-me-now kinds. It had, perhaps, been stupid to try and ‘smash it out at the gym’, even though sometimes that did actually work. Especially when the headache was hangover-related. Which it was. But the gym had not worked today, he reluctantly acknowledged as he swallowed down an entire bottle of electrolyte water.
Sweat stuck his vest to his chest, and his gym shorts to his ass in a unique and distinctly uncomfortable way. He just needed to get back in to his apartment, and then he could drown under the weight of the, as promised, impressive jets of water in the en-suite shower. Man, Tej really did love talking about that shower.
And he had not lied. It was an excellent shower.
He massaged his temples as the elevator rose from the basement gym to the lobby, where the doors slid open. Eyes closed, he heard someone shuffle their way into the elevator, just as his phone began to ring because, thanks to Tej’s insistence, the entire building was wired for Wi-Fi. Chase bit back a groan, accepted the call and tried to ignore the walking pile of boxes next to him.
‘You are not allowed to scare this one off,’ Tej announced by way of a greeting.
‘This one what?’ Chase growled. It was the third call he’d fielded from his old friend/new business partner that day.
‘You can thank me later.’
‘Thank you?’
‘You’re welcome,’ Tej announced with glee.
‘No, wait. What?’ Chase asked as he dug a thumb into his throbbing temple and fielded the cell and his water bottle in the other hand. ‘Who?’
‘The new director of comms. She starts Monday.’
Chase let out a scoff. ‘Shouldn’t I have had some say in hiring?’
The mountain of boxes next to him shifted their weight from one high-heeled foot to the other.
‘Yeah, well. We didn’t really have time to fuck around, my friend. We’re opening in just three months, and your last hire quit.’
‘Before I could fire her,’ Chase pointed out.
‘And this one can start tomorrow. So there.’
‘Name.’
‘Bella Carmichael.’
Chase frowned. Why did he recognise that name? Did he? Or was he just so hungover his brain was playing tricks on him?
‘She’s—’
‘A pampered princess socialite,’ he remembered now.
The boxes shifted again.
‘She has a degree in Business Management and Communication from Harvard.’
‘They all have degrees,’ Chase ground out. ‘Isn’t her father something big in aerodynamics?’
People like Bella Carmichael didn’t have dads, like his. They had fathers. Mothers. Maters and Paters.
‘How can you remember that, and not my birthday?’ Tej asked defensively.
How could he not? The day he’d landed back in the States, the papers had been filled with headlines about the Redondo Runaway Groom, or something like it. The damn catchy alliteration had stuck.
Miles of column inches had been full of speculation as to why the groom had disappeared – many laying the blame at bridezilla-Bella’s feet. Someone had knocked together a guestimation of how much the entire wedding had cost. It was a mind-numbing amount of money, even to Chase, who had at one point been considered to be one of the most sought-after contemporary artists around the globe. And certainly inconceivable to the son of a mechanic and a librarian.
The black-and-white pictures of the abandoned reception at the Californian vineyard had felt almost crime-scene worthy; slashes of white silk rippling in the wind from ribbons tied on the backs of empty seats, an ornate flower garland arbour where the bride and groom should have stood.
He and Annalise hadn’t had anything like that. Jesus, they’d had a registry office and his best friend as a witness. At the time it had felt urgent and romantic and fucking idiot that he was, he’d thought he was the luckiest guy on the plant.
No. Chase knew exactly who the luckiest guy on the planet was. The Redondo Runaway Groom. Chase could only imagine what kind of bridezilla could scare off a fiancé on the day of their supposed wedding, despite the volume of scrutiny they were under. Clearly, the guy had made a lucky escape.
