Page 44 of First Comes Revenge

“Well, you’re handling it like a champ. Seriously. Those pranks you pulled on him so far? Fucking fantastic.”

I smirk. “That is mostly just my friends. Roxie loves a good excuse for payback, and Gemmaline is just sweet, so she’s probably happy to feel like there’s something she can do to help. I do have to admit it wasreallysatisfying to get your text about how much the pranks bothered him.”

“Well, you have good friends.” Jameson finally runs out of room on his plate. He stops a few steps from the table, eyes on Nolan, who is still with the same group. “Nolan and I have always been close, but running a business together changed things.”

“I can see how it would,” I say. “That’s a lot to manage with a friendship being thrown in the mix.”

“Yeah,” he says, and for a moment, he looks impossibly sad. Clearly, there’s something going on there, but I don’t want to push him to share.

“Um,” I say. “I feel like I need to tell you something.”

“Okay?” He looks concerned.

I bite my lip, trying to find the best way to put this. “When you mentioned you personally put money towards this, I realized this is kind of your party. And then I felt really bad for not running this by you before I did it. I could maybe still call it off if I get on the phone soon enough.”

His eyes narrow. “Call what off?”

“It was sort of Roxie’s idea. Well, not the details, but the thought of messing with Vaughn at the party. He is always so sensitive about being masculine and seen as this womanizer. I thought it would be hilarious if a squad of male strippers came in and gave him a lap dance here–especially if they make it clear that he hired them.” I wince. “I did ask them to dress Halloween themed, though, so it’s not like it would completely spoil the vibe of the party, right?”

Jameson laughs, throwing his head back. I think he would clap if his hands weren’t full with his plate in one and a little sandwich in the other. “Fuck! That’s amazing.Yes.Listen.” He sets down his plate on the edge of a table and cups my face with both hands. “Don’t ever apologize for hiring male strippers to embarrass your shitty ex. Understand? That is amazing.”

I smile. “You think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s an amazing idea. When are they going to be here?”

“Like ten minutes maybe if they are on time?”

“Then we don’t have long. Come on.” Jameson stuffs another mini sandwich in his mouth, dusts off his hands, and takes mine, leading me straight toward Vaughn and Aubrey.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Just saying a friendly ‘hello’ to my business rival and his date.”

I try to resist, but there’s no point. Jameson practically drags me straight up to Vaughn, who turns and notices us at the last moment. The pair of men he’s talking to with Aubrey drift off as Vaughn’s eyes widen with recognition.

He looks at me, then my hand in Jameson’s, then back to me, to my chest, my crotch, and back to where our hands are joined. “Charli?” he breathes.

Looking him in the face for the first time like this is surreal. The last time he spoke to me directly, we were still dating. He was making sure I understood how annoyed he was that I had the nerve to ask to come to the convention. I think he was even accusing me of only dating him for his publishing connections.

I’m overcome by a sudden urge to punch him. I manage to hold it back, deciding standing at Jameson’s side and glaring hard is good enough.

“Charli?” Aubrey asks. “Do you two know each other?”

I’m not usually the type to blame the person a cheater cheats with. I mean, the person in the relationship is the one with the most responsibility, right? In this case, I think I will happily blame both of them, considering Aubrey at least has to know she didn’t write the book her name is being put on. “We dated,” I say.

“I think there might have actually been some overlap,” Jameson adds.

I nearly snort with sudden laughter. It’s such a simple, beautiful way to put things.

Aubrey’s smooth forehead creases, and she looks to Vaughn. “What does he mean?”

Vaughn still seems to be in a state of shock. Now that I’m looking more closely at him, I feel like I can see he’s not his usual self. There are circles under his eyes, and he usually takes his sleep so seriously. I feel the tiniest pang of guilt when I think maybe my little pranks could be playing a part, and then I mentally slap myself for feeling bad. He deserves every bit of what has come his way and what’s about to come.

“Um,” he says. He’s holding a glass of the orange and black drink in his hand. The colors have mixed together though, and the whipped cream on top is blurring to make it a brownish mess in his hand. “We dated. Yeah.”

“What does he mean there was an overlap?” Aubrey is facing him now with both hands on her small waist. She sounds pissed more than hurt. I will at least give her credit for being just as in the dark as I was. That much seems clear.

“Listen, baby. Charli has always been a little–”

---