Alpha Billionaire's Bride - Part 3

“Gee,” Marina said. “Gorgeous and rail thin without even trying. I’m guessing you don’t have many women friends.”

Sasha shrugged and raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow. “I have lots of girlfriends, but not the way you mean. Anyway, my metabolism can be a real pain, except when I’m around Mrs. Best.”

“I’m sorry you have such a terrible burden to bear,” Marina said.

“You’re a smartass,” Sasha said. “I like you.”

“Right back at you. Now, returning to the topic of enemies. So what if other models don’t eat or sleep? What has that got to do with anything?”

“It’s obvious.” Sasha looked at Jada. “You get it, don’t you?”

“Not really.”

Sasha made a sound that communicated how slow witted Jada and Marina were. “They couldn’t have pulled this thing off, see? They’re too tired all the time, and they hardly ever think straight because they’re woozy and always obsessing over what they can’t eat. Whoever did this had to have been someone creative and clever. You have to admit that it’s pretty clever. None of the hater models I know could have pulled it off.”

“Then how about someone who doesn’t like you but isn’t a model? Got any enemies like that? Old girlfriends? Jilted lovers?” Marina asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sasha said. “This is hard.”

Marina looked like she was going to argue the point, but movement at the doorway drew everyone’s attention. It was Agatha Brimgore.

Agatha was dressed in a black swimsuit from the sixties, the one piece kind with a little belt around the waist. Instead of her towering beehive hairdo, she wore a swim cap covered in floppy, multi-colored fabric flowers. The same flowers decorated the tops of the flip flips she wore on her long, skinny feet.

Jada and Marina shared a look, and Jada knew exactly what her sister was thinking. Damn, those were some scrawny, blinding-white legs there. Agatha looked like a starving chicken with a bouquet on its head. Jada hid a grin behind her hand.

Agatha immediately killed the music at the comm unit. The silence made her voice seem louder than ever as it echoed through the room. “I don’t know how you listen to that trash. You’ll be deaf before you’re thirty. I’ll find some nice Perry Como or Johnny Mathis.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sasha said. “You know our deal. You don’t have to listen to my dance music and I don’t have to listen to music sung by anyone who’s dead.”

Agatha looked heavenward as if seeking assistance from her poor, deceased crooners. “I don’t know how I got a daughter with such an underdeveloped sense of style.”

Marina snickered and said under her breath. “A supermodel without style.”

“Fine,” Agatha said. “We’ll go with the semi-decent modern stuff then. Michael Bublé it is.”

Sasha reached over and picked up Jada’s cocktail. “Can I have this?”

Jada had forgotten about it. “Sure.”

Sasha downed the drink in a few gulps.

When Agatha walked toward the jacuzzi, Jada noticed a movement behind her, something small, skulking next to the wall and trying to stay hidden. It was Ms. Kitty. Jada smiled, not having seen her cat in a while.

She was behaving oddly. Agatha’s flip-flops slapped against the tiles as she walked, the fabric flowers undulating and flopping around with each step. It looked like Ms. Kitty was watching those feet. Was the cat stalking Agatha?

Ms. Kitty shadowed the woman all the way to the jacuzzi. When Agatha slipped out of her flip-flops and slid into the water, Ms. Kitty’s stare stayed on the shoes. Ah, so that was it.

“Oh look,” Sasha said. “It’s Cat. Hi, Cat. Where have you been? Want some popcorn?”

“She probably shouldn’t eat popcorn,” Jada said.

Sasha shrugged. “Well, it’s all I’ve got. It’s not like I carry mice around with me. Doesn’t matter though. Don’t look now, Agatha, but I think Cat’s hunting your shoes.”

“What?” Agatha swiveled to look backward at her shoes. “Oh no you don’t, you nasty feline.” She snatched up the flip-flops and held them over her head. “These are serious vintage wear. I can’t just pick up another pair at SuperDiscountLand, you know.”

“I don’t think she cares about your shoes’ provenance,” Jada said, tongue firmly in cheek.

“Yeah,” Sasha said, “cats don’t care about labels and stuff. And they always do what they want. That’s why I like them.”

“What would you know about it?” Agatha asked, her head waggling. “You’ve never had a cat.” She waved the shoes at Ms. Kitty. “Look at ‘em and weep, foul feline. You’re never getting them.”

Ms. Kitty stood up from her crouched position, arched her back, hair raising on end from neck to base of tail. She hissed at Agatha, baring her needle-sharp teeth.

“Hey, I don’t want to tell you what to do,” Marina said, “but I have some experience with that cat, and you don’t want to piss her off.”

Agatha continued to shake her shoes and waggle her head. “Here, kitty, kitty. Can’t touch this. Nasty creature.”

Jada watched the crazy woman, watched her infuriated cat. This was a disaster in the making. “Stop that, Agatha. She’s getting mad, and I’m afraid she’s going to p—”

Pounce. Just then, if anyone had blinked they would have missed it, Ms. Kitty reared back and pounced, sailing gracefully through the air, straight toward the gloating Agatha.

In the split second it took the furry creature to soar the distance between herself and her antagonist, everything became clear to Jada. Ms. Kitty was no longer interested in the shoes; she’d changed focus to Agatha’s flowery cap. Because Agatha was waggling her head, she’d put its multitude of floppy flowers in motion, and this had made it much more interesting to Ms. Kitty than the shoes.

Jada opened her mouth to warn Agatha, but it was too late. Ms. Kitty was already there, easily reaching Agatha’s head since she was sitting in the sunken jacuzzi and was hardly above floor level.

Ms. Kitty landed shy of the woman who only now registered the danger she was in. Her eyes widened comically as the cat attacked, striking out with one paw, claws fully extended, snagging onto the fabric flowers. She yanked backward violently. The cap was slightly dislodged before the claws sliced through the delicate flowers and retracted.

Agatha dropped the precious flip-flops into the jacuzzi and moved to grab onto her swim cap, but it was too late. Ms. Kitty swept a second paw high and wide, snagging one of the flowers at the bottom edge of the cap. She yanked her paw back, and this time, took the entire cap with her, pulling it neatly off Agatha’s head. Ms. Kitty chomped onto it, biting with the gusto that comes from predatory victory.

Agatha stared in open-mouthed horror, touched her bare head. Jada tried not to laugh, but she could hardly hold it back. Agatha’s thin brown hair was plastered to her scalp with dozens of crisscrossed bobby pins. Without her towering beehive hairpieces or floppy swim cap, Agatha Chicken looked practically plucked.

It wasn’t funny, though, when Agatha launched into a shriek to end all shrieks. High pitched and deafening, her shrill outrage bounced off the water and around the room, echoing in the high-ceilinged space.

Ms. Kitty was outraged anew by the terrible aural assault, the hair on her back going vertical. Jada hardly heard Sasha telling her mother to calm down. She was too busy watching Ms. Kitty.

“That cat attacked me!” Agatha shrieked, pointing a finger at Ms. Kitty. “She’s destroying my cap! It’s vintage. Irreplaceable! Vintage! Give me that back, vicious feline!”

“Hey now, she’s not that bad. You can’t blame her,” Marina said, surprising Jada with her defense since Marina normally didn’t care much for Ms. Kitty.

“Get her off of it!” Agatha wailed.

Ms. Kitty had heard enough. She raised her head, turned and stalked away, the flowery cap trailing the floor between her legs as if she were a lion dragging away a fresh kill on the Serengeti.

If Agat

ha’s first shriek had been deafening, this one could have shattered glass. Jada feared they weren’t safe under the glass skylights.

“Stop her! She’s getting away! Thief!” Agatha cried.

Jada leapt up out of the jacuzzi. “I’ll get it back, don’t worry,” she said, scampering after Ms. Kitty. “I’m so sorry,” she offered, though there was no way the angry woman heard her.

Ms. Kitty meanwhile had picked up speed, which she only accomplished in fits and starts because she couldn’t get far before tripping over the cap. Still, she was faster than Jada, and managed to scurry out the door before Jada could snag her.

Jada glanced back at the trio in the jacuzzi.

Sasha was patting her mother’s back and trying to calm her, telling her that the cat wasn’t evil and wasn’t trying to kill her when she stole the cap. Marina looked like she was torn between laughing and drowning herself to get some relief from all the noise.

Jada caught Sasha’s eye. “I’ll find Ms. Kitty and get the cap, I promise. I’ll send Elly with it. Probably best if Ms. Kitty and I turn in. See you tomorrow.”

She waved, stopping briefly to get her robe and slippers before jogging out of the room to hunt down Ms. Kitty.

Before she left, she heard Marina offer to make everyone a stiff drink. Good idea, Jada thought.

In the hall, Jada ran into Mr. Forest, literally. He’d been charging around a corner at top speed before colliding with Jada.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Jada,” the estate manager said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

He looked past her. “Has something happened? I heard the most terrible shriek. Is someone hurt?”

“No, no.” Jada soothed the worried man. “Everything is fine. It’s Agatha Brimgore. She’s angry about something, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“You don’t think I should check on her?”

“Well, you can if you want. But there’s nothing you can do other than listen to her. If I were you, I’d make myself scarce ASAP.”

He gave her a glimpse of a grin. “Much appreciated advice. I think I’ll heed it.”

“Um, you didn’t see Ms. Kitty just now, did you?”

“I did. She passed me on my way from the kitchen. She was carrying the most colorful cat toy and seemed very proud of it. What an amusing little creature she is.”