Page 11 of The Most Dearest
“So, he’s got his little bitch here and thinks he can run you out. You’re playing right into his hands by playing the depressed ex-girlfriend—"
“I’m not playing it Randa, I am the depressed ex-girlfriend,” Cordelia snapped.
“Exactly. It's making his confidence grow. He thinks he can win. What if you weren't heartbroken and depressed? Happy women are strong. Happy women with righteous anger and loyal allies are unbeatable. I know you aren't happy but fake it girl! For fuck's sake, shower. Put your face on. Lose the pajamas. Put a pep in your step, and a hot guy in your bedroom. This is all about front and bluffing.”
“A hot guy in my ... I understand most of that Miranda, but ... I don't know if I'm that good of an actor. Second, where does a guy fit in?”
I could see the wheels turning in Miranda’s head. She turned to face Cordelia.
"You need a man. A man who knows the story and will help you drive that asshole out of here or at least push him to write a cheque. If he thinks you're broken, he'll assume he can win. If he thinks you're over it and ready for battle, he'll surrender. Of course you can make the mortgage. Bring in two roommates and you'll be fine. Don't give up on this house. I'll fucking move in before I see you lose it. Get a fake boyfriend,” she said simply,casting her eyes at me for the last four words. “He’ll be an ally and a sign that Harrison can’t play on your heartbreak any longer.”
“Um, he knows I'm the neighbor. If you’re looking to me for that, I think—"
“Even better. You're the guy who's been in the wings waiting. Spend some time here. Spend a few nights here. Harrison will loooose his shit! I promise. Oh, this is good. This is really, really good.” The cogs were no doubt still turning in her head.
Cordelia had been quiet during most of Miranda's proposal but was now staring vaguely across the room like she was in deep consideration.
“Interesting strategy,” she said to Miranda. “But I’m wondering if Stefan would be a better choice. Harrison hates him with a passion since he asked him why his hands were so small for a man.”
“Stefan’s no threat. Unlike Harrison DiCaprio, you’d never date anyone that young, and Harrison knows it. He’d never believe it.” Miranda flicked her hand in the air dismissively. Stefan? Who was that? I didn’t want some hand fetishist in here spending time with Cordelia.
“I'm in,” I said simply. Miranda reached out and shook my hand like we’d sealed a deal. “Welcome to Team Bard. We’re honored to have you on board,” she stated.
We spent the next half hour plotting and planning, while Miranda busied herself replacing all the hand sanitizer in the house with lube. “Guys, don’t use the sanitizer,” she warned. “It’s thick, but it comes out the pump handle easy enough and it'll be annoying as fuck to wash off. He'll be rubbing it in for ages before he realizes he's just lubing himself up and it's not absorbing." She chuckled. She was clearly very entertained andenergized by her plans. And given she had the lube handy, she was either someone who always carried six tubes of lube in her bag or she'd planned this.
“Ookkaay,” I answered, smiling at Cordelia to acknowledge her sister’s craziness.
So far, we had the basics. It wasn’t realistic if I was suddenly a boyfriend. The plan was for me to start coming over, and for Cordelia to visit me more. In a week or so, I’d be here regularly, maybe even spending the night in her room. Cordelia offered to take the floor, but Miranda had flung her hands about and said “Oh pish posh. Just share the bed. You have to jump around on it a bit, so it makes a noise. Or just bang the headboard against the wall for a while. Cordy, practice your moaning. No doubt you're out of the habit. And Damon, if you're not a natural grunter, work on it during the week. The occasional well-timed ‘fuck baby’ or ‘good girl’ would be useful too.”
“Yes, Miss Bard,” I promised, stifling my laughter. This girl was hilarious and could be quite bossy. She’d be perfect for Cameron if only she didn’t already have a Cameron.
When I’d arrived, Cordelia had been a crumpled heap on the sofa. She was wearing flannel pajamas and her usually glorious hair was piled on top of her head in a matted mess. Her face was pale and drawn, her eyes puffy and wet. She was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life, but it was obvious she was completely devastated. By the time we were hatching schemes, she had a small gleam in her eye and her body language had changed. She became more animated, laughing genuinely at Miranda’s ideas and throwing in some of her own. Even if this scheme didn’t work, the very idea of it was cheering her up so it was well worth it. Worst case scenario, I’d beat the little bitch boy and demand her money. But Miranda’splan seemed way more fun and guaranteed time with the ever-strengthening Cordelia.
A car pulled into the drive. Miranda put her hand between me and Cordelia, encouraging us to join our hands with hers.
“Let the games begin,” she declared in a low, devilish tone.
Chapter 12: Harrison - Consequences
Our enemies are our outward consciences.
Henry V, William Shakespeare
I stumbled in the door with Emma throwing her hands around my waist to grab my dick. We never stopped. Being with Emma was like being caught in a sexual whirlwind. This woman was everything I needed. I removed her hand reluctantly. While I couldn't understand why Cordelia wouldn't just move out, I didn't want to throw my new relationship in her face. I wasn't that much of an asshole. Though I was escalating our displays of affection in front of Cordy, I was doing it in a controlled, measured way, to minimize the hurt I was causing. On the way to my room, I noticed a third person in the living room. Cordelia and Miranda, who was rapidly becoming the world's biggest pain in my ass, were on the sofa, but the guy from next door was on the sofa with them. Next to Cordy. In fact, very close to Cordy. They were all laughing but stopped when Emma and I entered the room.
“Hey, it’s Dollar Tree Don Juan and Betrayoncé. Nice dinner?” Miranda asked innocently. Emma didn't even bother acknowledging Miranda's presence. I cleared my throat.
“Yes. Hello Damon.”
“This must be the new woman. I’m Damon from next door.” The asshole then looked at me and winked. “Like 'em young hey? I prefer my woman to be able to share a drink with me.” Emma gasped and grabbed my arm.
“While you're in my house, I'd appreciate some respect for my girlfriend,” I asserted.
“Nah, I’m in Cordy’s house.” I hated this guy. He may be stupidly possessive over his hose on his property, but he was in my house now, a place where I deserved respect and civility.
He leaned over, placing his hand on Cordelia’s leg. What the fuck? Was he with her now? She'd not left the house in days, and she looked like a mess. How could he have a relationship with her? Even if he did, I guess it was none of my business. She had the right to move on, but not in my house. For a house that had held only two people a month ago, it now seemed to be bursting at the seams. This was unsustainable, but no way was I going anywhere.
“Right. Well, we’re going to bed.” I pulled Emma behind me, hoping to convey an air of nonchalance. “She’s playing games, Harry,” Emma informed me, throwing her arms around my neck. “Yeah, I think she is,” I agreed, but part of me felt uncertain. I knew she wouldn't stay single for long, but to move on so quickly? Emma and I fell in love gradually over weeks. But I guess Damon had been on the scene for longer than that. Maybe they'd had feelings before I moved on? I must have spoken out loud, because Emma answered my thoughts.
