Page 54 of Filthy Ruck

“More of a who than a what,” I said.

It could be a coincidence that Belinda Simmonshappenedto be in the same café as us. It was probablynota coincidence that she chose a table where she could see me and possibly hear what I was saying.

“Friend of yours?” Sadie turned back around.

“Definitely not,” I said. I briefly told her about the paparazzo following us to the restaurant, and the conversation outside the door.

“Yuck,” Sadie said. “I mean, I read those kinds of magazines, but it's not fun when they're talking about you.”

“Says the woman who, moments ago, wanted to live vicariously through me,” I said, my voice low.

“That's exactly my point,” she replied. “I want to keep that to myself. It's one thing for me to fantasise about the things you do, but not the rest of the world.” She grinned around the rim of her mug before taking a sip.

“Never say that again,” I said, slightly pained. “That you fantasise about anything I do.”

“Sorry, not sorry,” she laughed. “I guess I'm not getting any more salacious details.”

“I'm regretting saying as much as I did,” I said ruefully. “But certainly not in front of her.”

I nodded towards Belinda. I wanted her to know I'd seen her sit down, and wasn't happy about it. If she thought stalking me would get her anywhere, she better think again.

As if that was her cue, Belinda stood and walked over to us, her heels clicking on the concrete. Her hips swung like she wanted everyone to notice her.

“How nice to see you again,” she gushed, her smile as fake as fuck. “How was your dinner the other night? I hear Henrietta's is exceptional.”

“It was fine,” I said. I returned her fake smile. We both knew she may never find out what the food there was like. That was definitely not my problem. If I was petty, I'd be happy she was missing out.

She gave me a dismissive wave of her hand. “I'm sure it was more than fine. Especially with such fascinating company.” She leaned down, palms on the table top, displaying her cleavage. “If you wanted to talk to me about them, I could make it worth your while.”

“Thank you, but I'm not interested in women,” I said, pretending to misunderstand. “And if I was, my friend here would be first in line.”

“I would?” Sadie sat up taller and grinned like a kid who was offered a gold star. “I mean, of course I would, I'm amazing.” She pretended to fluff her red hair. She was no more interested in me that way than I was in her, but neither of us could resist trying to get a rise out of the paparazzo.

Belinda scowled at her obvious sarcasm and my, also obvious, attempt to be obtuse. She straightened up and crossed her arms under her breasts. “I was referring to money. I don't need to resort to sex in order to do my job.”

Was she trying to imply that I did? The desire to scratch her eyes out was becoming stronger.

Sadie laughed. “I bet you do. Or at least, I bet you would if you could get a story that would make you millions. Who wouldn't? Sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do, right Chels?”

I winced. Until now, Belinda didn't know my name. Now she did, it might be that much easier for her to figure out exactly who I was.

“I'm sure Melinda wouldn't do anything like that,” I said, pretending I couldn't remember her name.

“Belinda,” she said from behind clenched teeth. “Of course I wouldn't, thank you Chels.”

Sadie winced, realising her mistake too late. “So anyway, unless you wanted something, we were having a private conversation. Sooo sorry.” She smirked.

Belinda smirked back and returned her attention to me. “Think about it. One story that captures the public interest could make us both a lot of money. You could become famous.”

“I don't want to be famous,” I said. “That's actually the point. That and, if I had anything juicy on any of them, I wouldn't tell you. You can come sniffing around all you like, but you won't find anything here.”

“See…” She drew out the word. “I don't believe you. I know a good story when I see one and you, dear, are it.”

“Are you old enough to call her dear?” Sadie squinted at Belinda. “Next thing, you'll be calling her pet.”

I grimaced. “I'm no one's pet.” Although, doggy style was one of my favourite positions. And Storm's.

“Of course you're not.” Sadie leaned over to pat my hand. I thought she might make a pussy joke, but for once she didn't. Knowing her, she'd hold onto it until after Belinda was gone. If she'd leave us alone.

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