Word Count: 501
Thankfully, Felicia arrived first.
Colton watched her heels march across the floor. One slender spike stabbed through the cookie still lying where he’d thrown it an hour before.
“Colton!” she snapped. He sighed, looking up at her.
“Felicia, please-”
“What is going on?” She demanded, her foot tapping. “I’ve been told some pretty stupid lies, Colt. But getting married?”
“I am married.” He snapped, out of patience with women general and her in particular. “To Renee.”
“And where is she?” Felicia demanded. “Prove it!”
Colton sighed again. “She’s-”
“Who is this?” Renee asked from behind him.
Felicia gaped at her over his head. “Her? You married her? She’s wanted by the police for terrorism!”
“No, she’s not.” Colton said. “They’ve already-”
Felicia talked right over him. “You chose her over me?”
Colton winced. It was a stretch. Felicia Rossi had just signed a contract with Vogue. She had legs that stretched for a hundred miles, perfect, even features, and a smile that could melt men’s brains. Renee stood about a foot shorter than her as she came up next to her.
“I’ve seen you before,” Renne said, completely unconcerned with the woman’s scorn. “Do you do commercials or something?”
“I’m a model.” Felicia snapped.
“Huh, must have been someone else.” Renee said, grinning. “So, were you like Colton’s girlfriend or something?”
“Hardly,” she clipped, giving him a frosty glare. He flinched. He saw Renee eyes flick between the two of them, a puzzled look on her face. She met his gaze as Felicia shouted, her eyes narrowing.
Renee wheeled to face her suddenly, her easy smile gone. “Look, Alicia-”
“Felicia!” Colton and the outraged woman corrected in unison.
“Whatever,” Renee dismissed. “I’m sorry you got dumped. It happens. But you should leave now, before I lose my patience and ask Colton to toss you out on your butt. Don’t doubt he would.”
Felicia spluttered, beyond words.
“Don’t call him. Don’t come over. Don’t bother us, or I swear, you’ll find out how much of my Texan foot I can shove up your behind. Got it?”
Colton almost laughed at the look on Felicia’s face. She went beet red, her eyes narrowed to slits. She turned and stormed out, slamming the front door behind her. Her car revved and tore away, spitting gravel.
“Well, I hope you don’t ever want her back.” Renee said finally, when the sound of Felicia’s engine had died away.
“Renee-”
“Are there any other enraged girlfriends I’m going to have to beat down?” she asked, turning her glare on him.
“No.” He swore. “Just her.”
“Good.” Renee sniffed her disdain. “And I do hope your not as spineless with me as you were with her.”
“What?”
“Puh-lease!” Renee rolled her eyes. “Don’t expect me to fight your battles again, Mr. Savage. Next time, you can deal with her yourself.” She scowled at him and flounced away.
Colton did laugh then, hopelessly, until Mancini came in and suggested very gently that he go lie down and rest.
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