Page 18 of Married With Malice

“I’ll slobber less openly,” I say.

Her faces scrunches with distaste as she inspects me. “Might help if you clean the trail of meat juice off your clothes.”

I look down and find a tiny spot half the size of a thumbtack on my shirt. I blot it with my napkin. “All done. Now I’m free to assist you with removing the stick that’s jammed up your ass. Bend over.”

She’s great at withering looks. This one is punctuated with a smirk. “At least this tux is in better shape than your last one.”

Prom night is still a sore topic. I had no plans to ever mention it again. But the memory gets me pissed off. Pissed enough to part with a brutal little kernel of truth.

“Yeah, burning your date’s clothes is just adorable and not at all deranged. By the way, that tux was my father’s. One of the few things I had that belonged to him.”

Cale had saved the tux for years. He’d only given it to me a few months earlier on my eighteenth birthday. I never told Annalisa that part. After she left me with nothing but a beach towel to wear I didn’t feel like talking to her very much.

Her smug smile disappears. A glimmer of uncertainty flashes across her face. “You just made that up.”

I finish my glass of wine and then I grab hers to polish off as well. “Maybe.”

The look on her face says she knows I’m messing with her.

So what if I am? Can’t stop, won’t stop.

“Do you even know how tonotbe a lying prick, Luca?”

“Do you even know how tonotbe a heinous bitch, Annalisa?”

Her eyes become hate lasers. “Try whining about it to Matthew. You’ve always enjoyed that.”

“Who?” I’m playing dumb. This should be good.

She knows it and seethes. “Matthew Pentone.”

“Oh yeah, Matt. Haven’t had time to catch up with him in a while but I heard he got traded to Detroit. How’s he doing?”

“I wouldn’t know. Six years ago someone told him that I’m the devil’s handmaiden.”

I look her up and down. “Aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“But I love your whole wedding look. How’d you guess that I have a witch kink?” I slide my fingers through a section of green hair. “You’re bringing this on the honeymoon, right? I can’t wait.”

Anni stands, rips the wig off her head and throws it in my face. “Here. Use it to jerk off until your fucking hands rot!”

She’s about one decibel away from screaming. Most of the guests are now staring. They keep staring as she stomps away. Literallystomps. In fact she stomps with so much force that the heel of one of her shoes breaks.

With a shriek of fury, Anni rips both of her shoes off and throws them at the wall. How delightful. It’s a safe bet that everyone in the room is feeling very sorry for me right now.

Anni charges through the ballroom doors, presumably to go check on Sabrina and her couch. Daisy gallops after her, dripping flower petals in her wake.

Now that this particular chapter of excitement is over, I return my attention to my plate. No sense in wasting excellent food.

4

ANNALISA

Luca should be thankful we didn’t get to cut the cake. I don’t know how I would have resisted the temptation of smashing a piece in his face.

The reception came to an early end when I realized that Sabrina needed to go to the hospital. My father tried to take charge and pack her into a car to be sent to the nearest ER.

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