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A true friend
I have a delirious mental image of just staying planted right here for the rest of the night. They can use my arms like a coat rack. The clean-up crew will have to get a crowbar to pry me out of the corner in the morning.
I’m making silent oaths in my head and hoping that some deities above are listening and will take mercy on me. I’ll wear only pants for the rest of my life if you get me out of this mess. Just please, for God’s sake, help me!
Sitting back and letting a man swoop in to rescue me is so not my story anymore. No Prince Charmings. No Happily Ever Afters.
Monsters never run from their prey.
I formulated my opinion on men like this one a long time ago. Rich, powerful men in expensive suits who drink aged cognac. They are used to getting what they want in life and nothing less. When it’s denied to them, they aren’t afraid to take it by force.
“Oh, gross. Were you this cocky a minute ago? I don’t remember feeling this constant urge to roll my eyes.”
Tonight, I want to be the heroine of this story. So I bite his neck and pull him the rest of the way into me.
I’ve made promises I have to keep. Promises someone like Francia could never fit into. “No one I plan to marry,” I answer simply.
No one can hide from me.
“You’re right,” she deadpans. “My goal is to be a waitress here until I die. Because I’ll never make enough to retire. Pension? Who needs it! I’ll pay for a nursing home with my middle-school boy tips and $2.13 an hour.”
“I don’t want anyone to lay a fucking finger on her, understood? No one touches my woman but me.”
Money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy a really incredible shower.
Whoever he chooses to have kids with, God help her. That’s all I have to say.
You’re an empty vessel I can use as I please. As bait. As a wife. That’s what makes you perfect for this, Cora.
“And show me some fucking respect instead of eyeing my man like some dick-hungry slut. He’s mine.”
The bride I never asked for. The queen I never saw coming.
My life is amazing. I’m rich and powerful. I can buy whatever I want and have whoever I want. Meanwhile, Cora is a waitress.
“If you can look at me like you’re eyeing your dessert, Anya will be proud of our progress.” She grins, narrowing her eyes. “In your dreams.”
“Did you need something from me?” Yes, I almost say. I need the rest of your life to be spent at my side, doing what we just did again and again.
If Cora is waiting for me, she better get used to it. She’ll be waiting forever.
“I always get what I want, Cora. And what I want is you.”
