Page 17 of The B!tch List

“But we don’t need to know,” I protested about to walk away when something, or rather someone, caught my eye. Nancy was walking in, and she wasn’t alone. She was laughing with Tate.

“They a thing?” I asked, nodding in their direction.

Hunter glanced over. “No idea. He’s your boss, don’t you know?”

“No. He’s practically your step-brother, don’t you discuss things like dating over game night?”

Hunter raised a brow and then grinned. “Who you interested in, Nancy or Tate?”

“I’m not interested in Nancy. She’s a royal pain in the ass, why the hell would I be interested in her?”

Hunter began to laugh softly and with a wink walked away, gathering Ellie in his arms and kissing the top of her head.

“Douche,” I growled.

“Who’s a douche?”

I jumped. “Carter, do you have to sneak up on me like that?”

“I wasn’t sneaking, you were just too busy hating on someone. I repeat who’s a douche?”

“Hunter.”

Carter nodded. “Yup, I get that. Anyways, just wanted to let you know, you have this in the bag. You’re the betting favorite for the win. My sister was just practicing her scales and let’s say I’ve heard nails across a chalkboard sound more musical. As for Pauly, well I do believe I saw every animal in Dayton Valley run for the hills.”

“Is Tate entering?” I asked, clearing my throat.

“No. Not sure why he’s here. Maybe, he’s supporting Nancy.”

“They together?” I asked, trying to remember what I’d last eaten. Something had given me a horrible taste in my mouth.

Carter shrugged and looked down at his clipboard. “No idea, but you’re up first to rehearse your walk on and I need you to sing the first and last verse.”

I felt deflated and beaten, not able to believe he’d managed to trick me into entering. I really didn’t want to have to be committed to the contest. My free time was precious. I liked having my evenings free, and I didn’t want to spend them singing to a couple of hundred residents who had nothing better to do than listen to their friends and neighbors annihilating popular tunes.

“I’m not sure I can commit, you know.”

Carter slapped my back. “No problem.”

“Really?” I asked, shocked it had been so easy. “I can leave?”

“Sure.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. “I’ll just call your dad and tell him about the malt.”

“You’re a dick, you know that right?”

He turned away, holding up his phone and waving it about, laughing as he did. I found nothing humorous in the situation. I should never have let him know I’d downed the precious malt that Dad had gotten from Mom to celebrate their anniversary. Not only was the booze old, but it was their first anniversary since they’d taken a break from their marriage. They were back together and happy again and Mom had wanted to mark it as a special anniversary.

I’d drunk it one night when I was already tighter than bark on a log. I’d blindly reached for something from Dad’s stash after a night clubbing with some old high school buddies. By the time I’d downed almost a full bottle, I realized what it was that I was drinking, but by then it was too late. Stupidly, and drunkenly, I’d called Bronte to ask her what to do. Half an hour later Carter turned up at the house with some cheap whisky and poured it into the bottle.

“This is your one and only time, Carter,” I yelled as he continued to walk away.

“Hmm, we’ll see.”

Feeling pissed and agitated, I swiveled around to walk toward the ‘stage’ and spotted Tate and Nancy. Their heads were together and they were looking at Tate’s phone, huge smiles on their faces. The bad taste returned and I made a mental note to quit having oatmeal for breakfast.

“Need this like I need a hole in the head,” I muttered to myself, striding toward the mic.

“Okay,” Carter yelled from the back of the ballroom of the Memorial building. “Your entrance could do with some work but that’s a minor thing. Right, first and last verse as we agreed.”

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