The Revenge Games Duet

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get that. It’s bad manners not to make eye contact with someone when you speak.”

My head moves swiftly, eyes wide open, staring at this arrogant ass. He isn’t the first arrogant asshole I’ve encountered in the four days I have been here. Los Angeles is full of them.

“You want to talk to me about making eye contact? I think you just told me to watch where I was walking, but at the same time, you’re flirting with Sarah.”

Sarah almost drops the coffee in her hand, embarrassed that she enjoyed his attention.

He takes the cup and turns to face me, giving me a better chance to get a glimpse of the face attached to the asshole personality.

The first thing I notice is how light his eyes are—hazel colored—light in comparison to the dark beard sitting across the bottom half of his face. His olive complexion makes them stand out, but beneath them are dark bags. Tired, worn out—something about him looks aged.

Without trying to make it look obvious, a scar on the side of his jawline catches my attention. It has a pinkish tinge, looking fresh from some accident and buried in his overgrown beard.

“Are you done looking at me now?”

I pull back, unaware how obvious I have been.

“Yes. Just wanted to remember the face of the person who cost me my favorite dress and is making me late to an important appointment.”

“That dress is your favorite?”

I look down at my dress. It’s my favorite. I bought it three summers ago at the Macy’s clearance rack during one of our girly road trips to Anchorage. It has this 1950s feel to it—halter neck with three large buttons that run down my chest. The bottom flairs beneath my waist, covering my wide hips.

“Actually, it is.”

The blonde bimbo who accompanied him into the shop is by his side, eyeing me again as if I belong in a zoo.

“I bet you’re not from around here. Let me guess, you came here to be the next biggest movie star.”

They laugh in unison, only adding to my uncomfortable state.

“And let me guess, you came here to be the next biggest porn star!”

I don’t wait for her reaction, turning around and facing the counter desperate for Sarah to return with my cake. Beside me, Mr. Dick is laughing, prompting Bimbo to nudge him with her shoulder.

Sarah comes out of the kitchen carrying my box. Letting out a sigh of relief, I thank her as she slowly passes it over. I won’t open the box this time, turning my back to them while I walk to the exit.

“Hey!”

I stop for a moment, contemplating whether or not to turn around and bother giving him another minute of my time.

“What?”

“I still didn’t get an apology.”

The box is steady in my hands as I turn around to argue with him one more time.

“Since I’ll never see you again, you can take my apology and shove it up your ass.”

His lips curve upward into a wide grin. “And if you do see me again?”

“Then I’ll take it out of your ass and actually mean it.”

I refuse to entertain him any longer, pushing the door open and leaving the shop in a mad rush to Emerson’s house.

***

“This cake is divine.”