Page 5 of Always Been Mine

Beatrice winced. Zach, realizing his faux pas, turned a shade darker under his tan. The senator chuckled. “You shouldn’t worry about the tabloid write-ups, Beatrice. You’ve worked hard for where you are now.”

Fortunately, their food arrived and the elaborate way the dishes were served gave her enough time to gather her wits about her.

“It’ll blow over,” Beatrice quipped and shrugged her shoulders. She looked at Zach who was staring at her withremorseful eyes. She raised a brow. His eyes turned mischievous, and then he flashed her a toothpaste-commercial-worthy smile.

Suddenly, Zach’s attractiveness diminished, and the devilish grin of another man came to mind.

Beatrice Porter! Get a grip!

“Now, I believe, I’m the one asking the questions?” Beatrice brought the conversation back to point.

“Bitch whore!”

Beatrice watched in horror as a wave of red ruined her new cashmere wool peacoat.

What the hell?

She had just returned from her successful lunch meeting with the senator and was about to ascend the steps leading to the lobby of her condominium when she heard her name. Three women, all of them wearing Titanium Rose t-shirts, attacked her with red paint. How did they find out where she lived?

The older of the women, who sported bottle-blonde hair, continued to call her all manner of derogatory female names.

Building security rushed out and was about to restrain the women when Beatrice signaled them to back away.

She also noticed a tall figure rapidly approaching from her right peripheral vision.

Doug.

She kept her eyes on her attackers.

“Can you repeat what you just called me?” Beatrice said to Eric’s rabid fans.

“Ms. Porter . . .” one of the guards started to say, but she raised a finger to shush them.

“Bitch whore!” Blondie repeated, her lips curling in a snarl.

“Is that right?” Beatrice said, wiping paint from her face. “I’m the bitch? I’m the whore? Didn’t you read the papers?”

Blondie’s eyes widened. “Well, yeah, Eric wants you back.”

“Not that part,” she said irritably. “You do know he cheated on me, right?”

“That was just a groupie . . .” Blondie’s voice faded. “He’s Eric Stone. Everyone wants to fuck him.”

“So that makes it okay?”

No answer from the three women.

“You think it’s okay for your man to step out on you when you’ve agreed to be exclusive?”

All three shook their head.

“I’ve made my point. You three are lucky I’m not about to press charges, because I’m so done with this fiasco, it’s not funny,” Beatrice snapped. “Now get out of here before someone takes pictures and I find myself splashed all over the tabloids again. This is DC. I understand there’s no place more symbolic where freedom of expression is demonstrated every day, but dousing a person with red paint is not part of your first amendment rights. Do I make myself clear?”

The women just stared at her. The guards started sniggering but stopped when Beatrice glared at them.

“Go on before I change my mind.”

All three women slowly backed away before turning and running off.

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