Her Perfect Revenge by Anna Mara Read Free Book Online Page A

finishing her film and without so much as a backward glimmer, she caught a cab to the Streetwise Magazine office. She needed to speak to Jenny. She'd know what to do and what to say to make Christina feel better.
     
     
    ***
    "You did what?" Jenny's eyes bulged out as Christina recounted the days' events. The two were sitting in the small lunchroom having a coffee.
    "I didn't mean to."
    "Chrissy, oh my God!"
    "It's not that bad."
    "It's bad."
    Christina's face fell. "I know. And no I-told-you-so's, okay?"
    Jenny studied her friend's dejected face and her tone of voice softened. "If you needed money for insurance, why didn't you come to me?"
    "Because it's embarrassing and I'm not borrowing money from you. Besides, you're barely making it yourself and you've got Taylor."
    "I knew this was going to lead to disaster; I had a feeling."
    "Why don't you think he remembered me?"
    "Chrissy, you were only at that school for three weeks before you left. It's probably not even listed on your school records."
    "But what he did to me…?"
    "Listen, you look different now; and Havenwood was drunk twenty-four seven. I doubt he'd remember the name of that school, let alone you."
    "I guess you're right."
    "You sound disappointed?" Jenny was trying to figure out what was going on in Christina's brain.
    "Jenny, no way; you know how I feel about him." Christina took a gulp of her coffee without even tasting it. She wasn't disappointed. She hated that man. How could Jenny even think that?
    "All I know is that you're not indifferent to him. And one thing my marriage to Derek taught me is that the opposite of love is indifference, not hate. Love and hate are actually this close." Jenny brought her index finger and thumb together in front of her face.
    Christina suddenly burst out laughing. "Me? In love with rat bastard, Havenwood? You're crazy." Trust Jenny. She could always be counted on to bring a smile to your face. Christina sobered a little. "Jenny, what am I going to do? I don't have that kind of money."
    "First thing, get some legal advice. I'll give you the number for Stanley Moore, the lawyer we use here at the Magazine. Second thing—you are giving up your revenge plan, right Chrissy?"
    Christina thought about it for a second. Should she?
    "Chrissy!" Jenny was shocked at her friend's silence.
    "Yes, yes, it's over. I don't want to even hear Bill Havenwood's name again. The whole thing was a huge mistake."
    "Good. I'm glad to hear it." Jenny was afraid for her friend. This wasn't over yet and she feared that when it was, Billy Havenwood would hurt Christina all over again.
    On her part, Christina didn't say anything to Jenny about Havenwood making a pass at her. It was too ridiculous to even think about. He was just being a man.
     

     

Chapter 11
    Bill Havenwood was dreading this—a meeting with his father. Or should he say a castration—because that's what it felt like whenever he was summoned to the inner sanctum of his father's palatial office at Fido Foods.
    Bill nervously glanced at the gilded mirrors and crown moulding inside the private elevator as it silently whisked him upwards. Only the best for his old man.
    Even though both Bill and William Sr. lived in the same house, neither spoke to the other. If there was anything that needed to be discussed, William would have Charlotte, his secretary, set up an appointment in his office with his son.
    And Bill had better be there—on time and without excuses—or else it would be one more grievance added to the long litany which he would rant and rave about.
    The elevator doors parted and Bill stepped out into a dark green, carpeted outer office. The lighting was low in the room—better to show off the two Renoirs on opposite walls.
    Charlotte, a slim, well-maintained woman of sixty, rushed out from behind her desk and hugged Bill briefly before releasing him.
    "Thank God you're all right. We were so worried," she said in a breathless, concerned voice.
    "You mean 'you' were