Page 413 of Hell Hath No Fury
I hang up the phone and stare at my reflection in the mirror, my nickname suddenly staring back at me—Ice Queen.
Of course, that’s all they see. I mean, look at me. My blonde hair is tightly bound in a bun, my makeup makes my resting bitch face look even meaner than it already is. Even my no-nonsense black dress makes me look hard and unapproachable. All of me screams ‘stay clear or I’ll eat your heart out for breakfast.’
“Damn it, Sierra,” I mumble, as I start taking the pins out of my hair.
With quick haste, I manage to free my hair from its restraints until it flows down my shoulders and back in long sun-kissed waves. I rush to my closet and search in the back for the white backless dress I bought on impulse once, thinking I’d only be able to wear it when Dory and I went clubbing to Charlotte again.
“This is such a bad idea,” I mutter as I peel off the dress I currently have on in favor of the sleek provocative number I had stashed away.
I strip my underwear and bra off, too, before I slip it on, the white silk instantly hugging my every curve. I pair it with my favorite ivory five-inch Manolo Blahniks, giving me that extra desired height, and add two diamond studs to my ears and one long silver necklace with the Richfield crest on it, the pendant hitting right between the swell of my breasts. I’m about to redo my makeup when my bedroom door swings open.
“Holy shit!” Sierra squeals, covering her mouth with both hands to keep her excitement from being heard all throughout the house.
“Don’t say another word. Close the door before Momma hears you.”
Sierra quickly does as she’s told, closing the door behind her and rushing to my side.
“Momma is going to shit a brick,” she says enthusiastically.
“Don’t talk like that. It’s not ladylike.”
“No. That dress isn’t ladylike. A bikini would cover more skin.” She giggles.
“Will you stop? This is all your fault anyway. You got into my head and now look at me,” I mutter through gritted teeth, rethinking this whole plan.
Yep. I can't go through with this.
I get up from my seat and start pulling down one of the thin white straps, when Sierra stops me by placing her hand over mine.
“Col, stop. You look beautiful. Don’t you dare change. Not for me and not for Momma. Let the world see this side of you. Even if only for one night. Please,” she pleads, the soft gaze in her blue eyes showing nothing but pride and affection.
I haven’t seen her look at me in this way since she was a kid. When she followed me around like I hung the stars and moon just for her. It was a time when she was proud to have me as her big sister. It’s the tenderness in her gaze that has me sitting back down in my chair in front of my vanity.
“Can you help me with my makeup?” I concede.
“It will be my honor, sis. Tonight, all eyes are going to be on you. You just watch.”
I don’t know if her words should encourage me or frighten me, either way I let her have at it.
It’s one night, Colleen.
One night.
What harm can come out of it?
CHAPTER FOUR
Owen
“Richie Rich! What are you doing here?” I ask teasingly when I come down from my room and come face to face with one of Asheville’s favorite sons—Richard Price.
He rolls his eyes at me, tugging at a similar-looking bow tie around his neck that I tossed out not a few minutes ago.
“Save it, Turner. I’m not in the mood,” he grumbles, looking extra broody.
Not that the asshole has another gear shift to his personality. He’s always brooding about one thing or another. If I hate what the Northside represents, then Rick here hates all of goddamn Asheville. And that type of hatred is bound to make a person extra prickly.
Since we were kids, all he’s talked about is getting out of this cesspool. It’s not like he doesn’t have the means for it. He’s the rightful heir to the Price world-renowned bank. This guy makes more cash in a second then most do in a lifetime and he’s barely even twenty years old. I have no doubt in my mind that the minute Rick graduates from college, he’s out of here. He’ll probably pick a big city like New York or L.A. to live in, and forget Asheville ever existed. I don’t blame him. It's not like this place holds many good memories for him with his folks dying in a plane crash before he even learned to walk. The only family he has left is his shrew of a grandmother, and say what you will about Vera Price, but being motherly was never her strong suit.
