“What do you want?” Lila hisses in a voice I never imagined she had inside her. Disgust laces the words.
Georgia narrows her eyes, clearly not liking Lila’s tone. “You have no reason to be pissed at me, my lady. You were quite willing to let me fuck you.” A growl comes from my throat before I can stop it.
Georgia’s eyes flick to my face. Then, a slow smile crosses hers. “Oh, I get it now,” she says with a laugh. “Yes, you are definitely her type. Much more than I ever was.” She taps her chin with a long, manicured finger. “Let me guess. A bodyguard? Veiled as an ‘assistant’? How perfect.”
The fact she nails it so precisely makes the fury in me burn even hotter, but I keep my thoughts to myself. It's all I can do to stay in my seat as the limo pulls away from the curb and merges back into traffic. Clearly seeing the answer on my face, she nods and turns to Chloe. “But then who are you? Have I perchance uncovered another card-carrying member of the Lesbian Billionaires Club? Wait. I know you. Your Aussie accent gives you away. You are—”
“Just stop,” Lila interrupts before Chloe answers. “It’s me you want, so let them go.”
“No,” I blurt out, but Georgia ignores us focusing on Chloe.
Chloe lifts her chin, eyes hard. “How did you know where we would exit the airport?”
Georgia shrugs. “Let’s just say I have extensive resources. I pretty much know whatever I want.”
“Except who belongs to the club,” I add with pleasure. “Or how to weasel your way into it.”
She turns to me. “You’re kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?” she says. “Maybe I will let you out. Or shoot you.”
Lila grabs my hand and squeezes it. I feel her shaking and am not sure if it is from anger or fear or both. “Just let them go,” she repeats.
Georgia waves her off. “Maybe, but not now. We’re going to chat first while we sit in traffic.”
“Well, then I need a drink,” Chloe says and moves to the minibar without input from any of us. She quickly makes herself a scotch and soda with practiced ease while we watch, then turns back to look at us again. We are all staring at her. “What?” she says leaning back before taking a sip.
“You’ve got real guts,” Georgia says with a grin. “I like you.” She glances at me. “Much more than her. But your manners are crap. You should have asked us if we wanted one.”
Chloe sips again, and they stare sizing each other up. Chloe’s sandy-haired and sturdy with a weathered face from time outdoors in the sunshine. Georgia’s the exact opposite. Thin, dark, and I don’t think she goes outside much. “I should have,” Chloe finally agrees, but makes no move to correct her mistake.
Georgia narrows her eyes. “That’s it?” she says.
Chloe raises an eyebrow. “How about you tell me where you're taking us, and then I'll be more inclined?”
“Yes, that would be good to know,” I add.
“To my super-secret evil lair to torture the truth out of you, of course.” No one says a word for a minute, and then Georgia throws back her head and belts out a laugh. When the chuckles subside, she wipes tears from her eyes. “God, you can’t seriously believe that. I’m really not that bad, ladies.”
“You shot at us at the Hollywood Gala,” Lila exclaims.
Chloe chimes in. “You're kidnapping us now.”
Georgia waves her hand, dismissing the comments. “Details. I never hit any of you, although that damn LA media pimp had it coming. I might shoot her still, she’s such an arrogant pain in the ass. How she got Claire is beyond me.” Lila sucks in a breath, and Georgia grins. “Kidding. Sort of.”
“How about you just tell us what you want?” I ask having enough of Georgia’s fake graciousness. She’s a criminal. Period.
She tilts her head and runs her eyes over my face. Her dislike for me is evident in her look, but she answers anyway. “I just want to talk. Get to know my new Australian friend better. Catch up. Work things out,” she replies.
“Work things out?” I spit out a derisive laugh. “After the ridiculous threat at the ski lodge? Lipstick on a mirror seems a little beneath you.”
“What are you talking about?” Georgia asks looking honestly confused.
Lila leans forward in the seat. “You had someone write a message to me on my mirror at the lodge. And I agree with Jael, very juvenile.”
Georgia shakes her head. “I hate to say it, but I had nothing to do with that, friends. Sure, I knew you were at the lodge, because I have people who track all that shit and give me a report,” she explains. “But I didn’t write any message on your mirror.”
I shake my head. “Nice try, but you’ve got no honor. I don’t believe you.” Georgia's face instantly flushes red at my words. My insult struck home, and I could not be happier, at least until Georgia leans forward and pushes the intercom to call the driver.
“Pull over somewhere,” she orders. “One of us is getting the fuck out of my car.”
23
“You know, I just don't think you fit in with our little party,” Georgia DeLane says while looking me in the eye. “Not being a billionaire and all. Hired help, basically.” I don't rise to her bait but cannot help clenching my hands into fists. The urge to punch the woman in the face is incredibly strong. As if sensing my fury, Lila lays a hand on my leg to calm me else I do something to endanger us all. Seeing the interaction, the smirk that crosses Georgia’s face as the car slows to a stop is almost enough to make me ignore Lila’s warning. This villain disgusts me on every level of my being.
Once the car stops Georgia doesn’t even wait for the driver and grabs the door handle to push it open. Sunlight masked by the limo’s tinted windows floods in. I shake my head. “You must be even crazier than I thought if you believe I’m getting out without them.”
Georgia tilts her head before letting her eyes roam to Chloe, then Lila, before back to me. “I assure you they will be treated like the VIPs that they are. If you behave.” She shrugs. “But if you fight me on this, I can’t promise anything.” I grit my teeth with fury at the threat. Before I spit back an answer, Lila interrupts.
“What do you want us for?”
“That’s a damn good question,” Chloe chimes in. “Why us?”
A hint of color rises to Georgia’s cheeks, almost as if she’s embarrassed over what she is about to admit. Then, she lifts her chin with defiance. “I want to go to the wedding,” she declares. I bark out a laugh before I can stop myself. Here is this rich, powerful, highly feared woman, and she is acting like a child who has been told she can't go to a birthday party.
“You’re serious?” Chloe asks before I have a chance. “You’ll threaten our lives over an invitation?”
Now Georgia’s cheeks flush brighter, the pink running down her neck. The glare she passes back and forth between Chloe and me is filled with enough malice to make me genuinely worry for the first time she will hurt us just for spite. “I don’t expect you to understand,” she growls.