Don't Hate the Game… Hate the Playa'
Pamela pursed her lips trying to hold back her laughter as Emma went on incessantly until she finally had enough and let the laugh pass her lips. Her laughter only became haughtier at the look on the other woman's face. "Oh. My. God! You actually believe the drivel coming out of your mouth!" Pamela scoffed as she swiped at the tears at the corner of her eyes. "You really have no clue do you?"
Emma's eyes went into a squint as her mouth formed a pout: "he loves me and you need to let him go!" she demanded with her hands on her hips and a stomp of her foot in a clichéd spoiled rich girl stance.
"Oh really?" Pamela challenged as she shook her head: "If you weren't so pathetic, I might actually feel sorry for you," she conceded.
"What?!" Emma shot back in annoyance as her eyes widened, unsure as to what to do, since she usually got whatever she wanted- especially when it came to men.
Flicking the corner of a neatly stacked stack of files with a manicured nail, Pamela watched the blonde from beneath her lowered lashes: "you- Suga'- have been played by one of the masters."
"Excuse me? How stupid are you? Did you not comprehend what I just told you?" Emma spit out. "Your husband is sleeping with me."
Shaking her head, Pamela sank into her desk chair with a knowing smirk on her face as she decided to take the blonde tramp across from her down in a decisive strike: "I don't need to 'comprehend' anything you have to tell me because 1)you haven't told me anything I didn't already know. And 2) he wouldn't be bedding you if he didn't have an agenda," she said watching the other girl pale slightly: "Yes, I said bedding, because you and I both know the only bed he's been using his skills in AND sleeping is mine.
You see, Emma, I'm not some starry eyed, naïve little girl who believes in white knights and prince charmings who will ride in on a white steed to sweep me off my feet and carry me away into our happily ever after.
You don't grow up the daughter of Cliff Barnes and not learn about the Ewings and what makes them tick- especially not when he's grooming you to con one of them." Pamela explained. "I knew that John Ross was his father's son in many ways even before I married him.
The fact that he's screwing you in more ways than one only proves it."
"Oh, you are delusional!" Emma spat. "John Ross never screwed me. He made love to me. He loves me."
"I'm the one who's delusional?" the brunette laughed harshly: "Let me school you on a couple of things. Your element of surprise was lost the minute you pulled off that little trick with the green lingerie. See, John Ross never turns down a sure thing."
"You just disgusted him!"
"I've had both of your numbers.
Emma, you are nothing but a business deal and a quick lay to him.
John Ross screwed you to get what he needed to from Ryland Transportation," she informed her so-called competition, putting up a hand in a "stop" gesture to forestall any further arguments. "He's going to stay married to me.
See, John Ross loves me in the only way he knows how to love someone.
He also needs me and my stock.
He needs someone with a brain and who will challenge him- not some little whore whose only assets are between her legs and what she can do on her back- because let's be real; for that he can have anyone.
So go ahead. Keep 'making love' to my husband.
Keep giving him everything he wants and watching him walk away without a backwards glance and down the hall and into my bed.
But know this, Emma, as soon as John Ross is done with you I'll be waiting and I will destroy you."
"So you are jealous," Emma smirked as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"Honey, I have nothing to be jealous of," Pamela replied sweetly as she looked the blonde over from head to toe as if she was something she'd scrap off the bottom of her shoe. "You just laid down the gauntlet and I picked it up. When I'm done with you, all you'll be able to do is lie on your back and spread your legs as one of your grandmother's 'girls,' now leave.
Some of us do actually work for a living."
"You'll see in the end when he chooses me," Emma said confidently as she flounced towards the door.
"Oh, Emma?" Pamela called out as she picked up a file and scanned it while managing to keep the blonde in view at the same time as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and glared back at Pamela: "have you ever wondered how many women said the same thing to Sue Ellen?" she pressed, enjoying the anger that flared in her opponent's eyes. As Emma slammed the door behind her, Pamela exhaled slowly and put one point in her win column as she ran her hands through her hair and tried to regain her focus and channel her anger and attention into something more appropriate. With renewed vigor, she picked up her phone and made arrangements to go see her father.
As far as she was concerned, John Ross could scurry around trying to figure out what her next play would be when it came to them as soon as Emma confronted him about the fact that she had told her about their so called 'great love affair.' In the meantime she'd work on her father and find a way to figure out what Elena and Torino were up to and keep Ewing Global running.
After all, her father would eventually have to stop underestimating her. She didn't care if he'd killed JR- hell she was pretty sure he hadn't - but he had killed her unborn children and she would do anything to see that he paid for that. For all she cared, the Ewings could be collateral damage if they didn't learn that women were more than arm candy- or a good lay. She wasn't her aunt or Sue Ellen.
She wouldn't sit on the sidelines wringing her hands or play the part of the long suffering wife.
She could and would use her brains, wiles, and charms as quickly and easily as her husband did.
She was ruthless in her own way and now she'd unleash her hidden potential.
She was a Barnes and a Ewing so God help whoever stood in her way…
