AngerArrogance Page 3

  Without missing a beat, she announced, “Don’t get used to it. It’s only for show. Are you ready to go or what?” Dragging a small purse off the table near her door, she stormed out; heels thumping like knives stabbing into the floor.

  Just when he thought to pay her a compliment; her mouth got in the way. Devin had no idea who’d hurt her in the past, but she was determined not to let it happen again. No one could get that mean and vicious overnight.

  He shook off the chill she left on his skin and joined her downstairs. At the car, he attempted to open her door but she wouldn’t let him. She had actually raised her purse in a gesture to hit his hand. Quickly, he withdrew and walked around to his side of the car.

  They drove to the restaurant in silence; an entity Devin was not used to when with a woman. He glanced her way, distracted by her quiet presence. “What are you so angry about? I know we’re in an unusual situation, but we should make the best of it. I am not that bad a guy. Besides, look at me. You can’t do any better than this.”

  Continuing to try to find something more interesting outside her window, Alana never glanced in his direction.

  Devin continued, “If some other guy hurt you in the past, it’s not nice to take your frustrations out on me without knowing me first. You volunteered for this remember.”

  She spoke in a calm tone that didn’t match her words. “I am not angry at all. I am a mean bitch. My past is none of your business. And for the record, just because I volunteered for this, it doesn’t mean I’ll be kissing your ass.”

  Well, there goes that conversation. Shrugging his shoulders, Devin wasn’t that affected by the sting of Alana’s harsh words. He had after all been the one to call her a bitch.

  Wanting to get this date over as soon as possible, he made it to the restaurant in record time. Handing his keys to the valet, Devin stepped around to open Alana’s door. He leaned against his car for a moment as he watched her, without his assistance, heading towards the entrance of the restaurant. Devin noticed the valet smiling and shaking his head as he prepared to park the car.

  Once inside the restaurant, they were shown to a nice table with a breathtaking view of the beach.

  Devin sat across from a woman he had no idea how to talk to. He failed to hide shock when she reached for his hand. He wondered if this was some sort of trick. When he looked at her, she tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow, as she waited for his hand.

  Placing his right hand into hers, he watched with suspicion as she bowed her head. I guess this means she believes in God…or…she could very well be praying to the devil.

  Sneaking a quick look at her hand holding his, he noticed her touch was in direct contrast to her demeanor, soft and warm.

  Peeping from one eye, Devin watched as she continued to pray and smiled when he noticed her lips moving in prayer. Taught to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, he wondered if something traumatic had happened to cause her to become so mean. Continuing to watch her, he found it hard to believe that someone so foul could look so peaceful and innocent.

  His thoughts came to a quick and tragic end when she lifted her head and let his hand fall. She’d dropped his hand as if it were a disgusting object she couldn’t wait to throw in the trash.

  Soon after, she sat buttering and eating her bread like she didn’t have a care in the world. His eyes darted in her direction upon noticing she had sliced him off a piece of the bread and placed it on his plate.

  A stray thought briefly crossed his mind. I wonder if she’s put rat poison on it.

  She appeared to know what he was thinking. “I am a good actor and have excellent table manners, despite my bitchy ways.”

  She just wasn’t going to let that go. He truly was sorry he had called her a bitch, but she didn’t have to keep reminding him of it.

  He had no idea how to react to her. She was so damn impolite and sarcastic but more startling was the fact that he found some of her totally irrational behavior funny.

  Her irritated frown found him. “Is something funny? I could be playing nice so you can eat the strychnine I put on your bread.”

  Devin dropped the bread back into his plate and used his white linen to wipe his hands. “Why are you so damn mean? You’re vicious for no apparent reason. I almost believe that you would put poison in my food and help save my life afterward, so you can continue to torment me.”

  On the verge of getting upset, he thought it best to change the subject. “We’ve been married for a month and I don’t know anything about you. I think it would be a good idea for me to start learning your likes and dislikes. I don’t know your favorite food or color or how you like your coffee. Heck, I don’t even know if you drink coffee.”

  Shoulders slumping a bit, the realization of how little he knew about the woman he’d married troubled him. “I don’t know your cell number either. What if something happened and I need to contact you?” He wondered if she was going to answer him.

  Had his abrupt subject change caused her to press pause on her attitude? The slight tilt of her head showed acknowledgement. As soon as he thought he’d made a connection, the lines of her forehead conveyed another story. Attitude resumed—she’d pressed play.

  Alana masked a frown that hid a tongue that itched to unleash a litany of harsh comments at him. “Devin, my dear sweet husband.” Sarcasm dripped from her face like sweat. “Let’s face the facts. Neither one of us wants to be married to the other. The fact that your girlfriend stays nights in the same house as your wife proves that fact beyond any reasonable doubt.”

  There goes my attempt at being civil. He had never given much thought to his behavior with Amber and how it impacted Alana. The fact that he carried on with his girlfriend while his wife slept down the hall brought forth guilt.

  Alana continued, “I haven’t put forth any effort because you haven’t. After we’ve served out the first half of our year sentence, I’ll gladly get out of your way and move back to my apartment. There, I can wait out the last six months of this train wreck we call a marriage.” She was struggling. Irritation was preventing her from being civil. The more she talked the angrier she was becoming. “We are stuck together for roughly another five months. I will try to make this sham of a marriage look good in the public’s eyes, but don’t expect anything more.”

  Devin didn’t respond.

  She wasn’t finished. “My number is 714-5689, I don’t drink coffee, I like reading, my favorite color is yellow, and I don’t like oatmeal.”

  Her volunteered information had thrown him off guard. “I guess it can’t get any straighter forward than that, but you still didn’t answer my other question. Why are you so damned mean?”

  Alana watched the waiter place their main entrees before them. Anger ate her attempt at being nice and cordial and Devin seemed determined to piss her off. As a matter of fact, the mere presence of him seemed to strike at her nerves.

  Wanting answers to his questions, Devin ignored the waiter. “Can we at least pretend like were married?”

  “How can you sit there and fix his mouth to ask me to pretend marriage while you carry on with his girlfriend like I don’t exist.” She became upset with herself wondering why his behavior with his girlfriend made her upset.

  The waiter walked away from them with a humored smile on his face.

  In the mist of their argument, Devin couldn’t help noticing that Alana was a beautiful woman when her face wasn’t all scowled and angry looking.

  She pointed out, “We are the picture of a perfectly married couple—always mad and fighting about something without the slightest hint of a sex life. You have your mistress and I have my job. You should be happy you don’t have some needy bitch worrying you all hours of the day to talk and spend time. But then again, we’re talking about you; Mr. got-damn Rocket Science.”

  He noticed her words didn’t have as big an impact on him as they had before. “Where did you get that mouth? Didn’t your parents teach you to be ladylike? You’re li
ke a wasp ready to sting anyone who gets within a foot of you. I think you have multiple personality disorder. Impoliteness defines you. Will it kill you to be polite? You know, instead of treating me like the gum under your shoe, you should be grateful that I agreed to marry you. It is painfully obvious that no one with any good sense would have.”

  She cocked her head slightly to the side, her look innocent and devious at the same time. “I am glad you noticed my personalities. At least you know you should keep your distance and it might be a good idea to sleep with one eye open.” Continuing, she cursed under her breath, “Rich arrogant asshole. Thinks he can talk to me any kind of way and I am supposed to sit back and take it. Then, have the nerves to tell me I have multiple personalities. He is lucky I married him.”

  “I can hear you, you know.” For some reason Devin couldn’t resist antagonizing Alana. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut but he couldn’t. “That’s exactly what I said, multiple personalities. You have more sides than an octagon.”

  Alana scooted forward in her chair and leaned slightly over the table. The cup that held her irritation had run over.

  Her movement and the calm look on her face, for some reason, encouraged Devin to lean towards her, despite lurking danger.

  Voice calm and smooth, she began low and intimate. Her words were meant only for Devin to hear. “You are right dear sweet husband. I do have multiple personalities. One personality, damsel in distress, will lure you in and earn your trust, another personality, dominatrix, will not hesitate to use you up and fuck you until you scream for her to have mercy on your soul, and another, sociopathic killer, would scoop your heart from your chest with a rusty tablespoon and send you away like a heartless zombie. How do you like that for a personality lineup?”

  Somewhere between the words ‘fuck’ and ‘heart’, Devin had spit wine all over the table. It took him a moment to recover and regain his composure.

  He’d finally heard enough. His wife could scare the devil into a dark corner. To say all she said with such an innocent look on her face was chilling.

  Trying not to draw too much attention to them, Devin leaned further forward, closing the gap between them. “I don’t have to take this shit from you. You are pure evil wrapped in a nice little cute package. I don’t understand how so much evil could be inside one person.”

  She had him so spun up he didn’t seem to realize he had called her cute.

  With a hand against his forehead, he took a few deep breaths. Although he didn’t smoke, if he had cigarettes, he would smoke them—the whole damn pack. Scanning the dining area for the waiter, he continued his rant. “I can't wait to get out of here so I can let you get back on the damn broom you flew in on.”

  Devin was usually cool under pressure but his wife seemed to pull irritation out of him from every direction.

  Readying herself to strike back, Alana paused. Wait a minute. Did he just tell me I was cute? Holding in a smile, she realized his slip, but it didn’t stop her from antagonizing him further. “You want to know who I am. I am your damn wife last I checked and if you get in my way, I will show you exactly where I’d like to stick my broom.”

  Her last statement and gesture made him pucker his butt cheeks. Watching her point a butter knife towards him, he was sure she would have carved out his eyes if the table wasn’t between them. She had already let him know that she wasn’t beyond scooping his heart out with a rusty spoon.

  The couple that sat at the table across from them gawked. Devin glowered angrily at the couple. “What in the hell are you staring at?” Flicking his hand, he shooed the couple’s eyes away.

  Watching as the couple turned in their seats and sat as straight as the walls, Alana could no longer stifle a laugh. The sight of the couple sitting so rigid and quiet was funny. She couldn’t imagine how crazy she and Devin looked arguing back and forth like two undisciplined kids. She found the crack about her riding in on a broom pretty funny as well, but she would never tell him that.

  Flagging the waiter over for the check, Devin couldn’t believe Alana sat there laughing. If he didn’t think he would go to jail for disturbing the peace; he was considering taking her over his knee and giving her a good spanking.

  Shaking his head and fussing under his breath, he signed the check. He talked as if she weren’t there. “How dare she call me an asshole? She’s the wickedest of witches, carving out my perfectly good heart with rusted objects.”

  Devin didn’t know how to fix this. He had earned a reputation for being able to work with anyone and most women swooned in this presence, but not his wicked little wife. Had he finally found the one person on the entire planet he couldn’t abide? He couldn’t believe he allowed his family to talk him into doing something as crazy as marrying a stranger—a crazy one at that.

  The silence and tension on the drive home stifled the interior of his car. He didn’t know how much more he could take. He definitely needed the healing powers of his girlfriend Amber because his wife was ripping him to shreds.

  As soon as Devin dropped Alana at the front door, he pealed out of the driveway like a mad man. Alana stood in the driveway with a mischievous smile on her face as she watched Devin’s taillights disappear.

  Chapter 6

  Humbling Experience

  Joe and Sue continued to get on Devin’s case about establishing a meaningful relationship with his wife. A few weeks slipped by before he assembled the courage to say a word to her.

  According to his parents, he and Alana needed to establish a good relationship so his father could start preparing to upgrade his political career.

  Approaching their second month in marital un-bliss, they hadn’t had a single pleasant conversation with one another much less a good public appearance.

  Certain his wife was perfectly happy with him keeping his distance, Devin promised his parents he would at least try to tame the devil’s daughter. There was never a task he had failed to complete, and he would be damned if he was going to let his little five-foot-five sassy mouthed wife ruin his perfect reputation.

  He attempted to explain the situation to his parents, but they turned their ears to his excuses. They suggested he buy her gifts or find a way to use the legendary charm he claimed to have. His father spoke of her positively. “She’s never had a disagreement with me or your mother. She likes the Mercedes we bought her. Informed that it was her dream car.” Devin found the information interesting.

  Taking his parents suggestions, he bought Alana diamonds and jewels and all sorts of gifts that all ended up lying in a pile in front of his door. What kind of woman didn’t accept diamonds?

  Alana was determined not to play nice. She hadn’t even pretended to like him. What he found most unsettling was the more she pushed him away, the more he was drawn to her. It was the most bass-ackward thing he had ever experienced. He wondered if he were starting to develop some type of weird obsession for his impolite wife. If he could somehow get through to her, he was sure he could change her attitude towards him. Determined to woo her with his charm, he considered her his ultimate challenge.

  Following his mother’s advice, he bought Alana flowers. He placed them on her bedside night stand so they would be the first thing she saw when she stepped into her room. He had never had a chance to look around her room because she was always too busy shoving him out the door.

  She was an anomaly. Her surroundings were in direct contrast to her horrible personality. You could bounce a quarter off her bed and she slept under a thin yellow spread versus a comforter. If the two degrees she had sitting on her desk were any indication, she was also very smart.

  The large glass shelves built into the wall caught his attention. They held some of her books. He saw Physiology, Pharmacology and Human Anatomy books and a number of other sciences he had never heard of. He took in the small assortment of pictures she kept on the top shelf. Leaning closer, he recognized her father and a lady that had to be her mother. He’d learned from his father that Alana’s
mother had died when she was young. The news brought forth pangs of sorrow for her loss.

  In the picture, her mother looked Hispanic, not African-American like he assumed. He wondered if she were adopted since she didn’t have any of her parent’s features. His parents refused to give him any information on his wife, insisting that he get to know her own his own. His eyes stopped at a picture of her posing with an unknown man that didn’t appear to be any kin. Could he be a boyfriend? Devin didn’t understand the hint of jealousy that had so suddenly emerged. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he reminded himself that he was being silly. Of course it was her cousin or family friend.

  Devin left a simple note next to the flowers. “I hope you had a great day. Devin.” Sure he would see the flowers and note sitting at his door later that night, he departed Alana’s room.

  ***

  Exhausted from an arduous work-day, Alana wanted nothing more than a shower and her bed. Walking into her room, the sight of flowers stopped her in her tracks. Unable to contain a smile, she realized Devin had finally gotten it right.

  The flowers drew her in instantly. Cupping a few of them, she savored the fragrance as she stroked the velvety yellow pedals.

  During the next few days, Devin kept his distance and Alana couldn’t have been happier. A lingering thought reminded her that he would return eventually. Eventually didn't take long. A light tap on her door pulled her attention. “Come in,” she’d called realizing too late it could have been him she called to so pleasantly.

  Entering her room with a smile on his face was no doubt his way of waving a white flag. “I hoped you would be awake. I haven’t seen much of you in the past couple of days.”

  And why does that matter? She didn’t say it but her face conveyed as much.

  Looking intently at him, she was likely waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Are you okay? You look…serious. If you’re worried about my new plans to kill you, I haven’t come up with any yet.”