Clasped hands shook back and forth from her chest.
"Bridgette, you have to come with me to this convention!" Courtney pleaded, pouting a bit. "If I don't go with someone there, I'll be looked at a lot! I'll be the only one without a date! Please?!"
Bridgette wet the dirty rag and wiped the counter in front of her scrupulously. She sprayed more Windex on the counter and continued cleaning. "I'm sorry, Court; I don't swing that way," she joked.
Courtney glared at her. "You know what I mean! I can't be alone—practically everyone there will be with someone! I can't be alone!"
"What's the convention about, anyways?"
"Well, it's more like a formal party for therapists. They're giving awards to some of them. I'm getting one for the 'Youngest Successful Therapist.' This is unbelievably important for me! Could you at least go there for me?"
She gave her an apologetic smile. "I would go, Courtney, really I would. I'd wear a freaking dress for you. But I have work—I don't have anymore day-offs now. I'm having a financial crisis here." She scrubbed the counters harder.
Courtney's anxious face softened as she said that. "I'll lend you—"
Bridgette held up a hand at her. "No. I'll do this myself. You earned that money yourself. I want to earn my own money, okay? I appreciate your help, but no, Courtney." Then she smirked. "Why don't you ask Duncan to be your little date?"
"I'd rather drink that Windex over there. Besides, I can't bring my clients anywhere like that. Duncan is a client only." She doesn't know how many times she has said that, but she knew she said it a lot. "I don't want to go with a guy, either."
"Then go alone if that's what you don't want. It's your fault for not having a date in the first place with that kind of attitude. Just go with Duncan. No one will know he's your client since everything is all confidential and crap, right? And if those nosy girls there will want to know who he is, lie. It's as simple as that. You're making this so hard on yourself, you know."
Courtney hated it when Bridgette was right. She hated to even think this, but she liked it when she's the smart one, the one who's always right and rational. Now, all of a sudden, Courtney just can't think straight and makes the wrong decisions. Bridgette's her supporter.
She wasn't going to listen to her. No way will she go with that pervert.
"I'm not going with him and that's final." Courtney crossed her arms over her chest and walked away.
"It's your fault if you're alone!" Bridgette yelled out.
. . .
Now who am I going to go with?
She wrote answers on her notebook, doing her homework. She wasn't stressing out over it, because now she didn't have anything to do. Her homework wasn't due till next week, but since she's got nothing to do—other than find a date—she'll just do her homework.
It's not like she's trying to forget on finding a "date" to the party.
Duncan's smirking face appeared in her mind. She broke her pencil when that happened. She does not and will not ever go on a date with Duncan Riley Taylor! Although this wasn't really a date, she still wouldn't want to go to a formal party with an animal like him. He wouldn't match in a tuxedo what with that ridiculous Mohawk on. She'll tell him to wear the tuxedo decently, and he will not wear a tie, wear those awful Chuck's, and make his pants low.
She could already see the image in her mind, and it made her not even want to go to the party. But she had to go, or else her reputation will be ruined. And besides, she wanted that award so badly. It would look perfect near her wall of achievements in high school.
Her phone rang, showing an unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Courtney! Hi! It's me—Lindsay! I scheduled an appointment weeks—or months; I don't know—ago! I totally, totally miss you!" Lindsay's girlie voice exclaimed from the other side.
Courtney's eardrums were aching.
"Why did you call me, and why do you have a different number, Miss Harrington?" Courtney asked brusquely.
"I wanted to schedule another appointment with you—this time it's, like, for real-real, okay? And, well, my number was super old, so I changed it. You should save my number just in case."
Oh, the things Courtney wanted to do to her… "I understand. How does next week Tuesday sound for you?" she suggested. "I only have two clients on that day…" Ugh, Duncan, she thought.
"Hmm…" Courtney could imagine her tapping her chin, looking completely stupid. "I don't think I have any appointments that day. Okay then! I'll totally call you if anything!"
She suddenly had the strangest beyond strangest idea.
"I have to, like, go—"
"Wait, Lindsay," Courtney said abruptly.
"O-M-G, you called me 'Lindsay'! Oh, and that rhymes! That's so totally cool!" She squealed after that.
"Yes, it's fantastic. Lindsay, would you mind if"—why am I doing this?!—"you would go on a date with me?" She slapped her forehead when she said that. Her forehead stung, but she was too occupied with cussing at herself.
"Um…I don't—I'm not a lesbian, Courtney. You're super-duper pretty and all, but—"
"I'm sorry; let me rephrase that differently. Would you like to go to this party with me…as acquaint"—she forgot that Lindsay wasn't familiar with that kind of vocabulary—"I mean, as…sort of friends?"
"We're friends?! You're so nice! And yes, I will go with you! I love parties! I'll be wearing midnight blue, so you should wear black, okay?! Bye-bye, Courtney! Love ya!" A dial tone was heard.
Courtney stared at her phone in shock. "Sort of friends, not friends, you dumb bimbo," she growled. She threw her phone to her bed. Why the hell did I do that?! Ugh, that's just fantastic! Courtney, why are you so stupid now?! Could it mean that if you have a conversation with Lindsay, you lose brain cells? Could Lindsay be the human structure of alcohol? Or could she be even worse?!
Great.
Courtney dragged herself over to her bed, collapsing on it head first. She rested on her stomach, head buried in her thick covers. There must be a rational resolution to why she was acting this way.
"Because you stress yourself out too much," Bridgette would say.
"Most likely 'cause I'm around you, Princess," Duncan would obviously say.
"Because it's all your fault, Courtney; you're doing this to yourself, you ungrateful b—"
Courtney winced and tried to fall asleep.
. . .
It was the day of the party. Courtney was still stressing out over it even though she has a "date" already. She felt uneasy with bringing Lindsay with her. She'll just ruin her reputation.
"Oh, my gosh, why are there so many old people?!"
"Like, why are you speaking some other language? Is 'alien' a language?"
"Courtney, I forgot to put my shoes on!"
Or something like that.
But she won't be worse than Duncan—hopefully.
Courtney felt like a huge hypocrite. During the last session with Duncan, she said that assuming is what asses would do. Now look at her, assuming that Duncan would be the clown of the party. She didn't care right now, though. He would stand out in a bad way. It was easy to imagine it.
Courtney stared at the black dress in front of her. This was the dress that Lindsay sent her early this morning. She knew that the dress looked designer—and that meant it was extremely expensive. She'd have to pay her back someday. Luckily, the shoes weren't all that high; they were black Cleopatra heels, which were two or three inches high. A note on the dress said, "Your hair should be in a high ponytail! See you there, Courtney! Love you! XOXO, Lindsay."
She was planning on just letting her hair down as usual. Her hair was medium-length, just stopping a few inches below her shoulder. She wanted to curl it, but she wasn't familiar with the curlers she has. Apparently Lindsay planned it all; this would most likely be the field that Lindsay specializes perfectly in. Wow.
Honestly, she didn't want to go to the party. She hated parties. She hated the liquor and the excessive gossiping certain girls do there. It was like high school all over again. To think that they would've matured. She also hated it when the men ogled her. Now she didn't want to sound vain, but it was true; they did. She especially hated it when they were pedophiles. Do I only attract older, desperate men? Great…
The doorbell rang, making Courtney jump slightly. She grimaced at the clothing in front of her before running towards the door quickly. She needed something—or, in this case, someone—to distract her. All this worrying was really not making it any better. She opened the door with a smile.
Then the smile ran away.
"Duncan. Just the person I desperately wanted to see," Courtney said sarcastically. She cocked her hip to the side, putting a hand on the other. "What are you doing here?"
Duncan yawned and placed his hands behind the back of his head. "I just wanted to tell you that Gwen and I made up. Emotionally and physically. Well…you know what I mean," he implied suggestively, winking.
"That makes me ecstatic."
"And I'm here 'cause I wanted to show you a demonstration."
She was about to slam the door in his face when he quickly stepped inside. Courtney closed the door, glaring at him. No choice but to let him stay here for a while only. She raised an eyebrow when she saw him appraising her body.
"Damn, Princess; you got curves." He whistled lowly. "Toned legs, gigantic rack, smooth, tanned skin…" He smiled lecherously. "If you wear those boy shorts every time I come here unexpectedly, I'd come everyday, babe."
Courtney gasped and blushed hardcore. She ran to her bedroom and fumbled through her drawers for some shorts. She cannot believe that Duncan saw her in those! Not even Bridgette knew that she wore those things. Large, slightly calloused hands gripped her forearms firmly, making her stop. She could feel his hot breath on her neck.
"You don't need to change, Princess. I already saw you in it—what's the point of covering it now? Besides, I'm likin' the view a lot. Don't ruin it with those unnecessary material." He pecked the nape of her neck.
Courtney couldn't move. Really. "Get the fuck away from me," she whispered menacingly. "Duncan, if you value your ability to make children, then I suggest you back away from me right now."
"Why?" More butterfly kisses were planted on her neck. "You know you like it. Why aren't you fighting back or yelling?"
"'Cause I'm too smart to use violence first."
"Uh-huh."
Duncan moved his lips all the way to her throat. His hands pulled her closer until she was trapped within his muscular arms. He's warm, she thought. Her chin angled up unconsciously as his lips traveled under it. Courtney felt hot all over. She moved her head to the side, eyes fluttering close. His lips went to her cheek, kissing the side of her right eye. His hands went down from her arm, resting on her hips. His thumbs went under her tank top, rubbing her flesh slowly.
Courtney wanted to moan out loud.
He started teasing her, kissing her on the corners of her mouth. Most of his fingers were under her shirt. She never moved, only her head when his lips traveled down and up. He kissed dangerously close to—
Courtney quickly spun around, kissing him feverishly on the lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closely, chests smashed together. Duncan chuckled a bit. His arms were wrapped around her waist, hands dangerously low. She stuck her tongue in roughly, feeling his tongue piercing. Tongues danced together, moved as one. His left hand moved to her stomach, going up and down. He then traced a line going down to her bellybutton and—
He pulled away, eyes wide. He immediately crouched down, forcing Courtney to let go of him. He yanked her shirt up, showing half of her dark purple bra. With his right hand, he grabbed a hold of something metal with his thumb and index finger.
"You pierced your fucking bellybutton?" he whispered incredulously. He stroked it, smiling. "Well, I'll be damned, Princess. Hell, this is seriously surprising. Despite your tendency to be violent and having an easy-to-trigger temper, you have a sexy dark side." He kissed her stomach.
Courtney walked away from him, staring out at the window. She was shocked. Terribly shocked. She couldn't believe that she made out with Duncan. Duncan! She allowed it, and she liked it! She didn't know what was wrong with her. Could it be that she was feeling sexually repressed for a long time that she just had to let it go when Duncan was seducing her? She knew it would happen someday, but…with Duncan?!
Absentmindedly, she touched her swollen lips, still burning from Duncan's passionate touch. It was if her body moved on its own. It just happened so fast, which was a pretty pathetic excuse in Courtney's personal opinion.
"Don't worry; I'm shocked as hell, too, sweetheart." Duncan appeared beside her, looking out from the window, as well. "I can't believe that happened. I feel…like a two-timing asshole. The asshole part is right, but the two-timing part…uh, not so much. I'm betraying her again. But I only kissed you; we didn't go all the way, thankfully."
Courtney looked at him in the corner of her eye. "What do you mean by 'thankfully'?" she questioned.
"If I didn't feel your bellybutton ring, I wouldn't have stopped, Courtney. I'm just being honest. We're both physically attracted to each other." She was about to disagree, but he gave her a quick kiss, instantaneously silencing her. "It's apparent, you know. Stop denying it."
She hated it. She hated all of this. But she loved it. She loved all of this. Not him, of course, but what they did earlier. She wanted to do it again; she can't deny it, like he said.
Duncan then looked behind him, raising an eyebrow. "What's with that fancy get-up over there?" He nodded his head towards the dress. "Are you going on a date or something?"
She shook her head, trying to repel the urges. They just came. "I'm going to a formal party with a girl," she said. "It's this therapist convention of some sort. Rich people will be attending there."
"So you're a lesbo?"
"I'm not a—" She smacked his arm. "Stop assuming that! Everyone seems to be assuming that!"
"Ouch! Well, I'm sorry, but the way you said that sentence automatically makes people assume that you're a lesbian! Excuse me for being like most people, Courtney." He rubbed his arm, pouting. "Jeez. You have man hands."
She ignored that and suddenly remembered her "date" with Lindsay. The uneasiness she was feeling came back. She was no longer distracted now. She looked at Duncan, biting her lip hard. She didn't want to go with Lindsay or Duncan, but…she didn't want to be thought of as a lesbian or someone who can't get a date, nor did she want to be seen with a clown.
But. Yeah, there's that annoying conjunction.
"Do you want to go with me, Duncan? J-Just as a friendly date, nothing more, all right?! Don't get too full of yourself. This is a one time thing!" she reminded him. "But before you say yes, please try to be on your best behavior."
Duncan snorted. "Who says that I want to go to a 'party' where there will be tons of therapists with hot dates, who must've been paid by those guys just to be their dates? I hate therapists; it'll be like a freaking nightmare. I'll grow insane. Though the girls might be incredibly hot…" He rubbed his chin, and then looked at her dress. "Oh, and I definitely want to see you in that sexy dress. Hm. Yeah, I'll go. Disregard that question I said earlier. Get ready for the time of your life, babe."
Now Courtney snorted. "Maybe I shouldn't have proposed it."
"Well, you did, and that was a good decision. Normally those formal parties are dull and all you talk about is how rich and successful you are. 'Oh, my business currently has the number one blah, blah, blah.' They say they get some, but they just pay the damn girls to get some. Or they lie. I choose the latter. Even if they pay the girls, even with that amount of money, the girls wouldn't have sex with those kind of men." He laughed.
Courtney looked at her alarm clock on the nightstand. She looked at Duncan, doing some mental math easily.
"Come here at five o' clock sharp. Don't be late. Please dress up nicely. And if Gwen asks, we're only going as, uh, acquaintances. I don't want her to assume that we're…you know."
Duncan rolled his eyes at her. "She's not like that. She's not like me." He frowned.
She didn't say anything after that. He knew what he did to her, but she didn't want to press any further on that. Those were his inner struggles. She had to get through him. She needed to know about his sister.
Soon.
. . .
Courtney didn't feel at all guilty about cancelling her "date" with Lindsay. As a matter of fact, she was irritated. All Lindsay did was whine and complain with her all-too girlie, irritating voice. Courtney was sure she was crying, as well—it's not like it affected Courtney one bit. She was too much for Courtney.
She grimaced as she stared at herself in the mirror. She smoothed down her dress again, eyes furrowed. She wasn't sure if she wanted to wear this dress. She knew she looked good, but she doesn't feel right with it. It didn't show much cleavage, and the length stopped a few inches above her knees. She wasn't used to the strap kind of heels, but they were okay.
It might make her taller than Duncan considering him being about four inches taller than her or so.
She lifted her hands up and tightened her ponytail. The hair on her neck was being pulled too hard, and if Courtney moved her head a lot, it would hurt even more. She was getting a major headache from it.
Courtney looked at the alarm clock; it was five-thirty already. She was fuming. Doesn't he understand the words "five o' clock sharp"? I swear, if he doesn't show up, I'm going to do some illegal—
She suddenly heard loud honking from below. She ran to her window gracefully in those high heels, seeing Duncan's car. She rolled her eyes and walked quickly down the steps, afraid she might trip and fall, grabbed her black, velvet clutch, and went outside. She opened the door to his car, buckled in her seat belt, and punched Duncan on his right cheek afterwards.
Duncan hissed and touched his cheek, glaring icicles at her. "What the fuck was that for, you psychotic, pain in the ass woman?!" he growled. "What, you want your friendly date to have a bruise on his right cheek? That was a smart move, Princess."
Courtney pushed the lever to drive. "Drive first," she commanded quietly. She was afraid if she said anymore or if she spoke louder she would snap and hit him again.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he drove out over the speed limit. "Now, tell me why you did that. I came here at the exact time you told me to come!"
"I said to come here at five o' clock sharp, not five-thirty. Can you clean your ears meticulously, please?" She crossed her arms over her chest.
She heard him mutter something unintelligible, and that made her think he was extremely childish—as if he wasn't. "Where's this boring convention at, anyways?" he questioned reluctantly. "You're lucky I know almost every destination in Canada."
"Yes, I'm absolutely advantageous to have a rebellious so-called 'badass' in the same car, going to the same formal party. I don't think the word 'formal' fits your personality very much. You would make a fool out of yourself and me most especially. Like I said earlier, behave or else I will have to do something to you that you wouldn't particularly like." She was quiet for a moment and then added, "Unless you're a masochist."
He didn't look fazed by her harsh statements. "I might be—but I get pissed off when people hit me. For you, I just get a bit irritated, but that's all. So does that make you a sadist?"
"I only enjoy your physical pain."
"That still counts." He smiled lecherously at her. "We're both compatible to do 'S and M,' you know."
Courtney tried so very hard not to stab him with her sharp heels. "Seriously, to what extent will you use your perverted sayings towards me? I mean, can you at least say one innocent sentence?"
"Lollipops are candy."
"Well, that's not what I meant. What I meant to say was that you always—"
"And you can suck it all the time," he added, grinning. "Well, until there's no more, that is." After that, he snickered as if he was thinking about an inside joke.
She threw her hands up in the air dramatically, letting them fall on her thighs with a slight slapping sound. "I forfeit." She pinched his arm hard and let it go sharply. She smirked when she heard him hiss out loud—but it wasn't enough. Maybe I am a sadist… Well, as long as it's Duncan's pain, I'm elated.
"So…where to, Princess?" Duncan questioned abruptly, recovered from Courtney's earlier pinch. "You still didn't tell me."
"Please tell me you know where Hotel Le St. James is at, because if you don't, I will murder you discreetly. Your body won't be found, because I cut it up and fed it to the carnivorous creatures in the forest."
"So dramatic and so little time… Yeah, I know where it's at. That was the place I wanted to work in, but apparently I wasn't informed about the proper etiquette or whatever shit." He scowled. "Some people are just so quick to judge. It's irritating."
Mentally, she agreed with him. "Judging is just human nature, Duncan. You can't stop it, and sometimes, you just don't know you're even judging. It's really frustrating, but it's natural," she explained.
He had a pondering look on. "Huh. Well, I guess I understand a little. Anyways, did you cancel your supposed 'date' with Lindsay?"
The memory of the phone call made Courtney sigh exasperatedly. "Yes, I did."
"How'd it go?"
"It went…annoyingly. Her high pitched vocal chords were really a pain in the ass. I just wanted to go over there and shut her up. She just wouldn't listen! Her whining aggravated me to no end. She's such a spoiled brat, seriously. I wish that I never even suggested the thought to her—I was desperate. Desperation can do many horrible things to you—especially if you're like me." She bit her lip.
Duncan was quiet as she spoke. He didn't even comment anything immature about what she said. Then he smiled at her.
"Tch, what?"
"I forgot to tell you this—it's crucial." He dramatically took a deep breath. It was as if he wanted to add some suspense. "You look fucking sexy in that damn dress, Princess. I mean, if you just pull the hem down a bit to show your huge-ass boobs, that'll be perfect—but then your legs will be covered… Damn it, why didn't you wear something extremely low and extremely short?"
"Because I don't want to look like a prostitute, thank you very much. I'm not like that, okay? I won't wear such material to please you or anybody. Besides, I think the length and the neckline is okay for me." She smoothed down her dress inattentively. "I'm thinking sensibly."
"How the hell is that being 'sensible'?"
She rolled her eyes at his naïveness. "Well, the dress is comfortable. Normally most dresses are itchy and not soft. And I have a feeling I will be able to use this dress excessively. It will last long." She smiled smugly. "There's my point."
Duncan looked at her with a stupid expression. "What'd you say? I wasn't listening."
Before she can yell at him, he quickly covered her mouth. He laughed at her wide eyes and confused expression, and then pointed forward. Courtney's onyx eyes followed the direction his finger was pointing at and mumbled, "Oh," feeling foolish. They were in front of Hotel Le St. James. Some people were looking in, obviously making harsh remarks about them. The front window wasn't tinted. Of course, that would be illegal to have all the windows tinted.
Courtney told Duncan that they would use the valet parking since it's free. She made sure she looked decent enough from the rear view mirror. She heard Duncan snort, but she didn't bother to do anything about it. He was that infantile.
As they got out, Courtney inconspicuously pinched Duncan from his side when he scared the hell out of the valet man. He was too protective over his car, apparently. They were next to each other comfortably—not too close, not too far. But suddenly, Duncan's right arm lashed out, grabbing her waist. She was being squashed. She wanted to stomp on his foot, but there were too many people.
There was a tall, curvy, statuesque woman behind a mahogany desk. She had jet black hair—Courtney could've sworn there was a purple tint on it—and striking midnight blue eyes. Her skin was dark colored and smooth-like. It made you want to stroke it with your finger. As they came closer, the woman smiled, showing her pearly whites. She lifted up her clipboard, clicking her pen.
"Hello there. My name is Hazel Smith, single and loving it," she said alluringly, staring at Duncan. "Name, please." She looked down at her clipboard, looking up from under her long, thick eyelashes at Duncan. Courtney got irritated—she hated being ignored.
Courtney cleared her throat, fists clenching. "My name is Courtney Neville," she said coldly. "I should be on the VIP list, Miss Smith."
Hazel's eyes flickered to Courtney for a while, coldness appearing, and went back to Duncan with that irritating look appearing yet again. She flipped some pages over. "Oh, yes, yes. I've heard of you—you're receiving an award, yes? You're quite famous. You may go in. But first, what is your name?" she purred, smiling flirtatiously at Duncan.
From the corner of Courtney's eye, Duncan smiled back flirtatiously. "My name's Duncan Taylor, sweetheart," he answered back smoothly. He bent forward towards the Amazon, kissing her on the cheek.
Hazel blushed underneath her dark skin. "Y-You may both go in, Duncan." She turned and gave a nod towards the buff bodyguard near her. The bodyguard stepped to the side without a mere glance at them. Courtney and Duncan went inside.
"She was hot," Duncan mused conversationally. "I could've gotten her number. You can tell that she's the easy type despite her confident appearance, you know. A freaking Amazon, I'll tell you. But I'm still taller." He smirked.
Instead of retorting back a nasty remark, Courtney evaluated Duncan. She didn't get to see what he was wearing. He was wearing a tuxedo, and, just as she predicted, he left his blazer open. Surprisingly, he wore the tie, but it was loose. His sleeve underneath wasn't buttoned all the way. And of course, he wore his Chuck's. But he looked…good.
"You clean up nicely," Courtney noted quietly. "I was expecting you to come in something slightly less appropriate, but I guess I was wrong for assuming."
"Don't underestimate me, darling. I'm pretty unpredictable." His hand squeezed her side.
"Yes. Yes, you are." She smiled a bit.
The place was absolutely luxurious as it should be. There were crowds of people in fine clothing, chatting merrily. Wine glasses were held in their hands carefully, showing their wrists filled with either white gold bracelets or diamond watches. Not only were these people professional and rich therapists, there were also people from elite businesses—doctors, lawyers, the bosses of popular magazines, the people from the government, and many more. If you robbed every single person's money here, you'd be the richest man or woman in the entire world.
Really.
There were some people who stared at both Courtney and Duncan. Some just took one glance at them, but the ones that Courtney wanted to shove their wine glasses down their throats were the ones who sneered at them. She knew this would happen. She should've brought Lindsay. Many looks were from the woman; they stared at Duncan lustfully, completely oblivious to their dates.
Truthfully, Courtney knew Duncan was attractive, but his personality just ruined it. He was an amazing flirt and could make you putty in his hands. Regrettably, she was a victim of his charms in the beginning—even earlier today. She didn't know he could affect you with a snap. He's your typical womanizer—except he's much more alluring.
"I don't know what those women see in you," Courtney muttered to him, putting on a faux smile for show. "These women are just incredibly idiotic. They should visit the optometrist soon."
Duncan chuckled. Courtney knew he wasn't faking a smile; he seemed to be really enjoying all of this. "Look, there are two kinds of classification in the woman population. There's the typical ones like that blonde over there." He pointed to a petite blonde who was staring at Duncan, blushing. "And then there's your kind. But you're the only one left apparently—you killed the rest of your kind for dominance over them, but that's not possible anymore considering the fact that you murdered every single one of them. You sexy psychopath."
She really wanted to beat him up.
"The former is the one who would immediately know that I'm attractive by first glance. I mean, look at me, Princess." He smiled cheekily. "Those girls won't care. As for your kind, you would know I'm attractive, but you would also know, in your own words, that I'm a 'shit-filled, perverted pig.' So it's different. In a simpler way, your kind is the perceptive kind. Hence, the reason why you're such a successful therapist. The naïve ones are inferior around you." He kissed her jaw softly. "Happy?"
Courtney tried to pull away from him, but the grip on her was firm. She couldn't escape. "I despise public display of affection. Please refrain from planting your lips on my skin. Thank you," she snapped. The smile never wavered.
"You're good at that façade. But I can see right through you. And I'll kiss you whenever I want to, all right, babe?" He kissed her dangerously close to her mouth. "It's fun."
"I'm not your girlfriend, D—!"
"Ah, welcome, dear Courtney," a rough voice said in front of them.
Courtney quickly fixed her expression up when she saw the man who gave her the job. Mr. William Banks. He owned almost everything. He was famous for his controversies—having an affair with an escort, pedophilia, seducing a married woman, using evil acts just to take over a business, and much, much more. Courtney was quite frightened of him. Not because he could send anyone to beat her up—she could beat them up, actually—but because he could easily fire her with a simple gesture. He had control over her; Courtney wanted control over him.
In time, I will, she thought determinedly.
"Mr. Banks, how wonderful it is to—," Courtney started saying politely.
"Before I'm ignored, my name is Duncan Taylor, Miss Courtney's hot date. No, she didn't pay me; she asked me to accompany her. Just tryin' to defend myself, that's all," Duncan quickly said.
Fuck you, Duncan. She pinched his side again, but this time, she twisted it all the way. She heard him whimper a little, almost making her laugh.
Mr. Banks looked at Duncan as if he were trash. "Interesting," he replied. "Very interesting." He gave Courtney a look. "Without any further ado, let's gather to our reserved tables. I'll introduce you to my beautiful date." He walked away.
They followed him, quietly arguing against each other. Courtney kept insulting him and pinching his side, while Duncan shot back immature comments at her and touched her inappropriately. When they appeared at the table, Courtney just wanted Duncan to eat her up. She wanted to hide or run away immediately.
"Lindsay," she blurted out unintentionally.
Duncan looked at the beautiful blonde and smirked. "Damn, she's hot. Maybe I can get—," he started.
Lindsay brightened at the sight of Courtney, grinning hugely. Her grin could rival the Grinch's grin. "O-M-G! Courtney, hi! You wore the dress, you wore the Cleopatra heels, you made your hair in a high ponytail! You're so pret-tiful!" she squealed loudly.
"Never mind," Duncan muttered, looking like his ears were in pain.
Mr. Banks raised an eyebrow, looking at Courtney and then at Lindsay. "You two know each other, Lindsay darling?" he inquired.
Courtney wanted to puke.
"Uh-huh! She's my therapist, and I was supposed to go with her to—"
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, NO, NO! Lindsay! Why the hell do you have to be so, so, so fucking stupid?! Damn bimbo! Damn, damn, damn! What am I gonna do?! Mr. Banks is looking at me with such cold eyes!
Mr. Banks narrowed his eyes slightly underneath his spectacles. "You asked, Miss Harrington, your client, to go to this convention with you? Courtney, that is inexcusable behavior. That is not allowed. I am very disappointed in you. To think that you would be getting one of the highest awards anyone could ever get! There are important people here, and you dare defy me like this?" he said coldly. "I loathe it when people go against what I do. When we first met and you got the job, I specifically told you the rules and regulations. And now you chose the time you're getting an award to break all of them?"
Courtney felt like dirt. Yes, she was furious with him—but she was furious at herself the most. She's always followed the rules perfectly without question. It avoided trouble, that's why. She felt ashamed of herself.
But somehow, this made her eyes open. Following the rules were kind of boring for her, too.
He was still scolding her like an uptight father. "…this man is your date? Is he one of your clients, Courtney? You threw away this beautiful lady for this kind of person? Well, I must say something terrible must be happening to you. The Courtney I know doesn't do this."
Courtney looked at Duncan who looked enraged. She didn't notice him shivering, and his fists clenched tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He saw Courtney looking at him and stared directly in her eyes. She didn't bother to hide the emotions swimming around in her onyx orbs. The shame, anger, realization…he could see it all.
She whispered two words she never would've said in her entire life.
"Help me."
Duncan's eyes widened and he nodded. His arm pulled her back a little, making her body an inch behind his muscular physique. He cleared his throat out loud.
"Excuse me, Mr. Banks sir. I greatly apologize for interrupting your unnecessary ranting, but there are people staring. I know your kind"—he spat out those two words—"doesn't like to embarrass themselves and are incredibly self-conscious about their appearances. But I'll tell you the honest truth, sir. Courtney did ask Lindsay to come with her to this grand party, but that was because Lindsay over here wanted her to."
Courtney gasped quietly. "Duncan, that's not what—"
"Shh, shh, sweetheart. Don't defend Lindsay anymore. I know you care about her just like how you care about your other clients, but the truth has to come out. I'm sure Lindsay would understand, right?" He directed the question to said blonde.
Lindsay looked up from her nails, perplexed. "What?"
Courtney almost giggled when she saw Duncan's eye twitch. "You understand why Courtney's defending you, right? She brought you along because you wanted her to, right?"
"Uh, of course, totally! Yeah, sure!" She didn't know what was going on, of course.
Mr. Banks was staring at Duncan with immense contempt in his eyes. "And how do I know if what you're saying isn't a lie, as well, Mr. Duncan?"
"Because it is the truth. And I'm not Courtney's client, sir."
Duncan, what are you going to—?
"I'm her faithful boyfriend."
Ah, you imbecile.
. . .
Mr. Banks allegedly accepted the truth. Courtney got her award proudly. Duncan was by her side grinning. And Lindsay was still confused about everything. The party/convention went by smoothly.
Courtney was surprised that she asked Duncan to help her. What surprised her even more was the fact that Duncan did help her. He lied flawlessly. She knew it was absolutely horrible to lie to your boss—even if he's a total asshole—but she knew that she had to do something. She didn't want to get fired, although that makes her feel selfish.
It was midnight. They were all outside the hotel, waiting for the valet to come with their cars. Courtney tried to ignore Mr. Banks flirting with Lindsay, though Lindsay didn't even know he was flirting with her. They won't last just like the others.
"Courtney," Mr. Banks called. "I would like to speak with you just for a moment." Their hummer limo came, but Mr. Banks told them to wait first.
"Sure," she muttered. She gave Duncan a look to which he grinned at and followed her annoying boss. They sat down on the bench near the revolving doors. Courtney made sure she didn't sit too close to the pedophile.
"You did good today, Courtney," Mr. Banks said, smoking a pipe. "Despite the earlier misunderstandings, you did good. So did your date. But rest assured, Courtney. You don't have to hide anymore; I know that he lied for you."
She gulped audibly.
"Does that young man have feelings for you? I mean, that's such a gigantic lie he said there. I'm not even courageous enough to do such a thing…possibly. I almost believed him when he said that he was your boyfriend. He's a good liar—but I saw right through him. Remember this, Courtney: I was a lawyer and a therapist. Both jobs require perceptiveness. Don't defy me; I always win, got that?"
Her nails scraped against the wood hard as it curled into a fist. "Why are you turning all of this into something unnecessary, Mr. Banks? I made one mistake; for that, I apologize. But this is too much," she whispered coldly. She didn't care now. Anger was boiling beneath.
"I love conflicts. That's why I enjoy books so much. Conflict. I love making people's lives a game. I told you in the beginning to not make me mad. I can do things to you that you can't even imagine. I have many connections, darling."
I never knew he was like this. He's utterly psychotic.
"I'm not mad, you know. It's just that life for me is boring, and I want to make the best of it. I'm still healthy, but sooner or later I'll die. It may sound all humorous now, but it's true." He got up and started walking away. Two bodyguards immediately went beside him. "I'm watching you, Courtney. Always watching you."
Courtney felt dizzy. She wanted to scream out loud. She wanted to break someone's spine in half. She wanted to throw the bench she was sitting on at him. Fuck that geezer.
She didn't know all of this would happen. All she wanted to do was make an appearance, smile, accept her award, and leave happily. That was her agenda. Then he ruined it by adding drama to her sort of peaceful life. She already has too much to handle. What is he going to do to her?
"He's all talk, don't worry," Duncan's voice said beside her. "Those fat men beside him is just lame, man. You can beat the ugly shit out of him easily, babe. And you're smart, so that's a plus."
"You heard?"
"I've learned many things while I was young." He sat down beside her. "I have a younger sister and an older brother. Normally, the older brothers would embarrass the hell out of the young siblings. I mean, he does that, but not a lot like me. I always like to eavesdrop when he's on the phone with his girlfriend, or for my sister, I'd listen to her talk to herself while she's in her bedroom. She tends to say things that's bugging her out loud. It's fun for me. Eavesdropping is like listening to a regular conversation to me. Easy as pie, darling."
Courtney smiled at him.
"Whoa. What's with that out of character smile of yours, Princess?"
"You…you told something about yourself, about your family to me. You talked about yourself, Duncan," she answered, in awe.
He scratched the nape of his neck. "Yeah…I guess I did. Damn, I didn't even know that I did that. It just…came out, you know?" He buried his face in his hands. "Unbelievable, seriously. This is amazing. I can't wait to tell Gwen soon."
She slapped his back playfully. "You should. She'll be proud. This is good progress." She laid back on the bench, yawning a bit.
Duncan did the same thing. "Hey, about me telling your boss that I'm your boyfriend…yeah, sorry about that. It just came out, really. I couldn't say that I was your brother. I'd have to lie even more. Don't worry about your boss, though. He might lose his memory because Lindsay's like the human form of alcohol."
Courtney laughed out loud. "Ha! That's what I was thinking earlier! She's really unintelligent, isn't she?"
"Hot but dumb. Not my type."
"What is your type?"
"Gwen."
"That's a type?"
"She's a girl, she's cool, and she's hot. Yeah. She's an A-cup, but whatever."
"I didn't ask for that."
They continued to stare at the ceiling of the hotel silently.
Courtney feels comfortable around Duncan. She doesn't like him or anything. Sure, she's attracted to him, but not in that way. She'd make out with him if she wanted to, or if her urges came out involuntarily, but it won't really mean anything. He was a comfortable person. Partly. Sort of. She doesn't know. A friendly client? Well, when he's touching her, he's a little bit too friendly, but sure, friendly client.
"Hey, Princess?" Duncan called huskily.
She moved her eyes to the corner to see him a bit. "Hmm?" she muttered softly.
"Let's be friends. Screw the rules and regulations, 'kay?"
She thought of Mr. Banks and smirked.
"Sure. Let's be friends."
TBC.
[Gah. Stupid project.]
