Scarlett exited the cab, and raced up to her apartment. She had other appointments and she knew it. But, frankly, she didn't give a damn. There was only one thing on her mind at the moment and she had to think.

She raced up the stairs and entered her apartment before slamming the door soundly. Scarlett leaned against the door for a moment as she allowed the anguish to fill her soul. She stifled a sob with her fist. I can't believe it… He couldn't do this to her.

Just as quickly as the sadness came, it turned to anger. He made me believe that he wanted to marry me! After all these years of friendship-after everything they had been through together-how could he lie to her like this?

Ashley Wilkes came from a very well-to-do family. In fact, to say that the Wilkes' were "well-to-do" was like saying that the Pope was a somewhat religious man. They were rich. Filthy rich. Ashley's father had inherited the family fortune when Ashley's grandfather had died. This "fortune" included a 200-acre, run-down plantation and a couple thousand dollars of debt. In defense of the old man, he had been brought up to believe that nothing was more important than keeping that land in the family. Ashley's father had been too. It was a strange code of honor that seemed to run in the Wilkes family. But, when you are a 21-year-old man who just lost a father and has an enormous amount of debt, you know that sacrifices have to be made.

So Ashley's father had sold off approximately 50 acres of the land, to the eternal chagrin of his ancestors, no doubt. He had used the money that he received for the 50 acres to pay off the debt and build a few houses on the remaining land. As the houses continued to sell, the Wilkes' bank account continued to grow and before Ashley's father knew it, he owned an entire suburb. In commemoration to his family's land and heritage, he had named it after the former Wilkes' plantation, "Twelve Oaks". And since that time, he had invested in a ton of little "Twelve Oaks" plantation-themed suburbs throughout the States.

And so the Wilkes name became a household name. However, their fame had only begun. Because to be rich enough to feed a third world country was enough to make you famous, but you become a legend when you actually attempt to do just that. The Wilkes' were soon most known for their unusual generosity. More than half of their personal earnings went out to charities and organizations that helped the less fortunate.

Talk about tax deductions…the government was probably paying them…

And that is where her father came in…because the Wilkes' needed someone to take care of such a large payroll. So her father had become John Wilkes' accountant and one of his closest friends. Which was how she met Ashley. Her father's job was also how she was able to get into one of the best Journalism schools in the United States, and was ultimately the reason that she was a writer for one of the most prominent newspapers in America.

But Scarlett wasn't analytical enough to see that…

One of the Wilkes' many charitable acts was in the creation of an orphanage in Atlanta, Georgia. This orphanage was one of the most significant of the Wilkes' many established charities because not only did they fund this orphanage, but they had all pitched in throughout the years to manage it as well. They took the children to plays and parks and on vacations to the Bahamas and Disney World. They were heavily involved with the orphanage. Obviously a little too involved…

Melanie.

Melanie Hamilton was one of the first orphans to be brought into the orphanage that the Wilkes' had founded about twenty years before. She had grown up there and had stayed on as a counselor. She had probably been planning all of this from the beginning! Hearing of this engagement, Melanie's unusual personality was starting to make sense! That pale-faced, kiss ass, Scarlett thought viciously. She remembered her only too well. She remembered how sugar sweet she had been. She could probably open up a freaking bakery and stay in business without buying a single bag of sweetener. It was disgusting. It made her look ridiculous. She put on a pretty little show but Scarlett imagined that she had been planning to get into the Wilkes' very large pocketbooks all along. The bitch…she had played the sweet up nicely. But she must have brought out the spice for this one.

But even Scarlett couldn't pretend that Ashley didn't have his part in this whole mess. He had asked her to marry him, after all…

Her first instinct was to call him back and tell him off for-for-! How could he! But she stopped herself. She would never forgive herself if she talked to him like that. She would never forgive herself if she exposed herself and her feelings like that. She looked at the phone in her hand before placing it on the coffee table in front of her. Placing her chin in her hands and staring at the phone, she wondered what she was going to do.

She had to handle this smoothly. She couldn't attack him and she couldn't stop it at the moment, so the only option was to play it out until she knew what she was going to do. She slowly picked up the phone again, pressed Ashley's speed dial, and waited for him to answer.

"Red?"

She cleared her throat and spoke, trying to sound cheery. "Hey Ashley…" She failed miserably. "I am sorry that I had to let you go back there. I was trying to get a cab."

Ashley sighed. "Oh…for a moment I thought…" he paused. "But, well, it doesn't matter."

An awkward silence enveloped them. It was about to drive her mad, so Scarlett broke it abruptly. "So when was all of…this decided?" She couldn't bring herself to say it.

Her comment opened up the floodgates. "Just last night, Red. Well, I mean, obviously it didn't all start last night but…Well, you know that we have both known Melanie for years, but I…I had never really talked to her, you know? And I saw her at the library about a month ago. She was reading To Kill A Mockingbird. I commented on it, and we got to talking and…here we are. A month later. Getting married." He laughed lightly, disbelieving. "Married…can you imagine, Red? Me? A married man?"

She felt the tears spilling over again. "Yeah…who would have thought, huh?"

"It's so strange. I mean, I never thought I would find someone so much like me. We understand each other, you know?" He laughed again. "Just think…you were almost stuck with me." She could hear the smile in his voice, and a sob caught in her throat. When she didn't say anything, he continued.

"Well, I was calling to tell you about the engagement and to ask you something that I know I shouldn't, but it would mean everything to me if you could do it."

She sucked in a deep breath, trying to sound normal. "What's that?"

"Melanie was hoping that you would be her Maid of Honor. You know, since you can't exactly be my best man…" His voice was so joyful. Her heart ached with the sound of it. "And anyway, she adores you. She remembers you after all these years. She will be heartbroken if you can't do it and, well, so will I…"

Scarlett considered saying no just so she could "break her heart". God's nightgown…break her heart? Did she say those exact words? That's a good one…I need to write that one down. But she knew that it would be foolish not to say yes.

"Of course." She tried not to think about what she had just agreed to. She still had time to process this.

She still had time to stop it.

Ashley cleared his throat on the other line. "What else?" Scarlett asked. She could tell he had something else on his mind.

"Umm…Red, there is one little technicality and I understand if you can't do it." When Scarlett said nothing, Ashley continued. "The wedding, well…it's next Friday. And actually, we were all hoping that you could come up sooner and help out with the wedding. Visit with us…hang out… We were hoping you could get here by…Sunday?"

Scarlett's heart stopped. "Friday, as in, a week from now? As in…a week from now…" She stared at the abstract painting on the wall. They had always said that the viewer seemed to come to their own conclusion of what was in the painting. Right now, Scarlett was sure that it was a picture of some horrible massacre.

"Yeah…gosh. Red, I understand that you have work and that you might not be able to make it. And if you can't…I…I hope that you will be able to." His voice was laced with acceptance.

No matter what, he was having the wedding. Even if she couldn't come. She could tell.

"I will be there," she said without hesitation. Oh, she would be there! She was going to stop this!

"Oh God! Thank you, Red! Oh I will love you forever for this one. I…I am not quite sure if I could do this without you…" You won't have to, Ashley. It's not going to happen…I am going to save you from yourself.

"It's not a problem, Ashley."

"Yeah, it is. I know it is. But you are great. You are the best friend I could have ever asked for. I love you so much, Red. Thank you so much…" Conviction was heavy in his voice. She knew that he meant what he was saying.

"I love you, too." She said softly. I mean it too, Ashley. So much. She hung up.

Scarlett put her phone back on the coffee table and leaned back, resting her head on the back of the couch. She had never been so heartbroken in her life. But she soon stood from the couch and began pacing. It had never been in her to sit around and mope over something, when she could be doing something about it. She had to stop this wedding, but was at a complete loss of how to do that.

How on earth was she going to convince Ashley not to marry this girl? It wasn't as if she were some slut off the street. She was perfect! She had probably done a million Hail Mary's in her lifetime, if she even needed too. Who knows, maybe she was sinless! Gosh…she probably didn't even know anything about marriage. Scarlett was sure that didn't know what her vagina was for! Had anyone ever told her where babies came from? Probably not. Good God, if Scarlett were to throw her a bachelorette party, it would surely be more like a question and answer session than anything else. And it wouldn't be the normal questions asked privately between women like, How do you give really good head? or Which kind of lubricate gets you off the strongest? No. It would be questions like He has to put that where? or I have to put my mouth on that? Did she even know that men were different down there? Scarlett wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't aware…

If the event had been in a few months, she was sure that she could have pulled off crashing this wedding train easily. Hell, even a few weeks could have been enough! But seven days…one measly week. It was asking the impossible. Great balls of fire! Not even that long! She would get there on Sunday, so that left her with six days. Six days. Even she wasn't so confident in her ability to accomplish that in such a short amount of time.

Ashley wasn't just going to randomly decide not to marry Melanie. No, he would have to have good reason. And from the way it was looking, she was going to have to do some heavy digging to get that done. She wasn't a researcher. And she didn't have the time…

She needed help. But not just anyone's help. She needed someone who was underhanded. Someone who was a real jerk. A cad. A varmint.

A weasel.

"Rhett…" she whispered. And though he was the last person on earth she would want to ask for help, she knew that he was the only one who could help her.

She snatched her cell phone up from the coffee table and dialed the number quickly, before she changed her mind.

"It took you long enough," Scarlett said as she opened the door, barely even glancing at her guest. He had changed clothing since the last time she had seen him that afternoon. His immaculate Giorgio Armani suit had been exchanged for a Ralph Lauren polo and perfectly-pressed jeans. If he wasn't so obviously manly and all that…I would wonder… He was the most fashion conscious man she knew, and she was sure that she had never seen him wear any piece of clothing twice.

She walked back into her living room and started pacing again.

"Well, it isn't as if I have been invited here before." Rhett looked around, taking in burgundy walls, green portieres, and excessive amount of animal print. Stopping at the table with the legs—the giraffe legs—he spoke. "Nice…I expected something a little more…classy. Once again you have proven that you will never cease to contradict my impression of you." He looked around at the room. "I suppose the burlesque-theme was meant to add to your charm." He smirked. Scarlett glanced around the room, allowing her concentration to be broken for the first time since she ended her conversation with Ashley. Burlesque?!

She turned on him and glared. "I will thank you to shut you infernal mouth about my apartment. It's very classy…and stylish."

"Mmm…yes. For a woman of less than honorable profession, I suppose this is indeed an appropriate home." Rhett sat down in the fur-covered recliner, pulling the lever to allow the footrest to pop up from the bottom of the chair. "Tell me, did you skin this poor creature yourself or did you order your minions to do it for you, Cruella?"

"Stop being morbid, you…" She stopped short, afraid of what she might say next. She did need his help after all, and she didn't want to spend the next two days begging him to do this for her. He was such a hateful thing…he would force her to beg if it amused him. She needed to be on her best behavior. She needed to be on more than her best behavior. "I didn't invite you over here to talk about my home."

Rhett smiled and stood from the chair. Some of the fur flew into his face and he theatrically waved his hand before him. She smiled a little. Okay…that was kind of cute. Her first instinct was to wipe the smile from her face, in an effort to keep him from seeing that she thought he was—if only a little—charming. But then she remembered that she was supposed to be on her best behavior. The best way to get to any man was to work his ego. Especially a man like Rhett Butler. So she allowed the little smile to slip by…this time.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

His smile widened. She was sure that he was rather pleased with himself for breaking her rather hard exterior, which was especially hard around him. She could be as stiff as a rock sometimes: refusing to laugh at his jokes even when she thought they were funny, snubbing his very forward advances even when she was charmed off her feet, declining his kindnesses even when it meant it would be unbeneficial to her in the long run. Yep, she imagined he was feeling rather smug right now.

And that meant she had him exactly where she wanted him.

She widened her smile, feeling thrilled at having the upper hand. This would be easy.

"Ahh…you didn't, huh?" She cast down her eyes.

"Well of course not, Rhett." Like leading a duck to water…

But of course, he would have to be an ass and ruin it…

"Thank God…I was hoping that you were calling me for something else." His voice was silky. "And the aura of this room and your pretty little dimples are doing something to me." He started walking toward her purposefully. There was something in his tone and his actions, however, that made it obvious that he was mocking her. As if he knew her trick and was onto her game…

This was something that she had not anticipated.

She instantly dropped her façade, her smile disappearing with it. "I most certainly did not invite you over here for that."

His face fell in caustic regret. He dropped his head. "Ahh…damn. I was hoping that your feelings had magically changed within the past twelve hours. But alas, it is too much to ask." She rolled her eyes. He glanced at her through his eyelashes, and grinned. "Scarlett…if you want me to do something for you, there is no need to prey on my massive ego. It is large enough without any help from you. I think you even level it out a little. So drop the visage of a ready hook-up and tell me what you want."

She gaped at him. She would never understand how he could read her so well. "I…" she started. What was she to say to that? She looked at him. His face was still pleasantly amused, and it was driving her crazy.

But she needed him. He was her only hope.

"You better sit back down…this is a long story." She pointed at her most prized piece of furniture that he had just shunned moments before.

"There is no way I am subjecting myself to that again. I felt like I was sitting on the back of a buffalo in that contraption." He glanced at the sofa. "Umm…what is that, exactly?" He said, stifling a laugh.

"It is a custom-made sofa. Don't you dare say anything about it." She had special ordered the stylish sofa. She had always loved leopard print and it had been one of the most exciting days of her life when she had finally been able to buy the sofa. She wouldn't have sold it for a million dollars.

Well…she might…

Rhett raised his hands in surrender. "Okay…" he paused, "but can I ask about your obvious fur-fetish?" he glanced at the rug he was walking on. It was fur as well. Tiger print.

"I don't have a fur fetish." She was getting frustrated. They were losing time.

"Oh really…" he started walking towards the couch. "If I had showed up tonight in a leopard print loin cloth, you mean to tell me you wouldn't have been turned on?" He seated himself unsurely on the couch.

"Baha!" She couldn't resist laughing. The idea of Rhett in a loin cloth was amusing…if not a little erotic, but she pushed those thoughts from her head. "I don't think there is anything you could do to turn me on…" She inwardly crossed herself. She would say a Hail Mary for that later. Once a Catholic, always a Catholic. She might not attend mass anymore, but she imagined that her mother would look down on her from heaven in shock if she didn't pray over her sins every now and again. She looked at Rhett again and the tempting image popped into her head again…okay, so she might even go to a priest for confession for this one.

"My dear, you have just made it my greatest challenge to prove you wrong. My ego can afford me no other recourse but to one day charm you off your feet and then…well…" He leered at her as he stretched his arms out across the back of the couch. "Well, what is all of this about?"

She stood there for a moment trying to decide whether she wanted to ignore his comment or argue with him. She decided to get to the point. They didn't have time for this nonsense. "Oh Rhett…I don't even know where to start." She started pacing again.

"It usually helps to start at the beginning, my dear." His eyes were patient in a way that she only recognized in him, and it put her at ease. He was once again her friend, who was there for her when she needed him.

She took a deep breath and began the whole story. Starting from when she was a young girl. She spared as many details that hinted to her feelings for Ashley as she could. She told him about Melanie, and her suspicions that she was using Ashley for his money. She told him how much time they had…a freaking week…

"So, you see Rhett? I need you to help me prove that I am right. I just know that her intentions are less than honorable. She can't love him…" She looked at him, waiting for reassurance.

He leaned forward. "Why is it so inconceivable to you that she could love Ashley when you love him too?" he stated. His voice was even and honest.

"I…that's not…" she stuttered. "I just know. And I need you to help me to prove that I am right."

"You mean you need me to dig up something that will make it seem like you are right…" He smirked. "It's merely a choice of words, Scarlett. We might as well be honest with ourselves. You want me to research this chick, all in the pursuit of fabricating a story against your darling Ashley's little fiancée."

Scarlett turned away from him. "I don't care what you think. You can call it whatever you want. I know what I am talking about. And there is something about this girl that I don't like." She crossed her arms, as Rhett chuckled behind her.

"I think the only thing you don't like about this girl is that she is going to marry your best friend, who you happen to be in love with." Scarlett turned on him quickly, ready to retort. He held up his hands. "I am just being honest. I will help you. I have always loved fabricating." He smirked. "It's a perk of the job. But don't expect me to lie to myself or to you about it."

Scarlett lowered her defenses. She didn't care what he called any of it, as long as he helped her. "When is this wedding taking place again?" he asked, curiously.

Scarlett took a deep breath. "Friday." Rhett grinned, his eyes sparkling. Jacksass…if you weren't helping me, I'd claw your eyeballs out.

"And you are going down for it?"

Scarlett rolled her eyes, and threw up her hands in exasperation. "Well, of course I am! I have to stop it, don't I?"

Rhett looked down, his grin widening. Scarlett eyed him warily. He was up to something… "When are you leaving?"

"Sunday." She turned from him, not wanting to see that disgustingly amused look on his face. She grabbed a piece of paper off her desk and quickly wrote something on it before handing it to him. "Here is Melanie's full name, her age and where she grew up. I also know that she has a brother. I think his name was…Charles? Charlie? Something like that…"

"Melanie Hamilton…I can't wait to meet her…." He grinned.

She ignored him and continued. "That information should be enough for you now. The next time I talk to Ashley, I will try to find out more about her." She paused. "Wait…what?"

"Scarlett, you underestimate my abilities." Rhett ignored her question and looked at the paper. "I bet you that I can get all the information that we need with just this scrap of paper."

Scarlett instantly forgot her question in the wake of a challenge. She looked at him for a moment, unbelieving. There is no way that he could do this…he was impressive, but he wasn't a miracle worker. "Oh really…you think just because you are the Head of Research and Development that you are able to do the impossible?"

Rhett shrugged. "You get the job somehow. And I didn't get it just because our Chief Editor is in love with me, either." It was true. He—yes…he— was undoubtedly in love with Rhett, in spite of the fact that he had a significant other. She was sure that, even though Rhett's tastes lay elsewhere, he used this knowledge to his advantage. If Richard wasn't in love with Rhett, she was sure that he was in deep lust with him. He had partaken in more than one "fantasy conversation" concerning the egotistical man in front of her with the other women of the office…

"I am sure that factored into his decision, Rhett…that and the fact that you are guilty of making eyes at him." She crossed her arms.

"I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none." Scarlett stared at him blankly. "Macbeth?" When she said nothing, Rhett sighed in mock exasperation. "Well…how about a bet?" Rhett's eyes locked in on her, refusing to let her escape his challenge.

"What kind of bet?" she said.

"If I am right, and I can find out all we need to know with what is on this piece of paper," he waved the piece of paper before him, "then I get…" he glanced at her lips, "a kiss…from you." He smirked. "And if I don't-"

Scarlett cut him off. "And if you don't, you have to kiss Richard." She smirked, making sure she pursed her lips out slightly.

Rhett laughed. "Ah, Scarlett. You are charming when you are imagining devilment…and when you are trying to emphasize certain body parts." She sucked in her lips and tried to retort, but he continued. "Alright, I will kiss the socks off of our editor if I lose…but I won't." He whispered in her ear, causing a tingle to shiver down her back.

Scarlett scooted away from him, and sashayed to the other side of the room. "It's kind of sad actually. When you kiss Richard, I have a feeling that it's going to have an effect on his current relationship. He probably won't be satisfied with his boyfriend anymore."

"You are probably right. I am good at…romancing." He grinned. "But I think the same can—and will—be said of you, as well. When I win," he said confidently as he looked her in the eyes, his own eyes suddenly igniting, "I am going to kiss you so deep and so good, you are going to want more."

Scarlett laughed on cue, trying not to feel affected by the look in his eyes. "We shall see. You have yet to win. And I still lack the assurance that you can win this bet. I don't think you can do it." She turned from him, clearly dismissing him. Suddenly she remembered what he had said early about Melanie. She turned around quickly while she asked, "What did you mean early about…?"

He was already walking out of the apartment, and she could hear his light laughter in the hallway before the door closed.

Infuriating creature…she thought.

But in spite of her annoyance, her heart stubbornly slipped a little at the sight of the closed door.