Killing Monica - Page 42

ed the roll bar, and swung himself into the passenger seat.

“Would you like a ride?” Pandy sneered.

“Yes, please.” He looked around the interior of the cart. “Got any water?”

“There.” Pandy pointed to a half-empty bottle. He picked it up and drank, tipping his head back. Once again, Pandy found herself admiring his physique in spite of herself.

“Did SondraBeth talk to you?” he asked.

“Yep,” Pandy said.

Doug suddenly looked uncomfortable. “What did she say?”

“What didn’t she say?”

“Did she mention anything about…” He hesitated. “Last night?”

Pandy took her eyes off the road to give him a disdainful glare.

“As a matter of fact, she did.” Pandy tore her eyes away to stare fiercely through the plastic windshield instead. “She said she told you to have sex with me. That you were a sort of gift. All in all, it was fairly insulting.”

Doug let out a long groan. “It’s not true, Pandy. She didn’t ask me to have sex with you. She’s lying.”

“That makes it so much better,” Pandy said sarcastically. “So you managed to think of it all on your own.”

“Don’t be mean, Pandy.” He sounded oddly earnest. “I like you. I always have. You’re the one who rejected me.”

Pandy took a sharp left, heading back to the villa. “Doug.” She sighed. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. Your so-called interest in me has nothing to do with me at all. It’s about you. You’re playing at being interested in me so I’ll pay attention to you. And frankly, without the face and body, you’re actually not very interesting at all. And neither is SondraBeth. In fact, you’re both so terribly dull, you have to invent stupid little games that you think are daring but are merely pathetic, just to keep everyone around you from dying of boredom.”

Doug laughed as if she were merely being funny again.

They arrived back at the villa. The door to SondraBeth’s room was closed. Doug rolled a joint, lit it, and handed it to Pandy. Thinking the marijuana might calm her down, Pandy took a few hits. Doug strolled out to the pool and lay down on a chaise, where he promptly fell asleep.

Pandy went into the kitchen. “You’re back,” SondraBeth said, suddenly appearing in the doorway.

“It’s a small island,” Pandy said coldly.

“Come on, Peege,” SondraBeth said soothingly. “Don’t be angry. We’re both Monica—so why would you mind sharing the same man?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Why would I be kidding?” SondraBeth asked.

Pandy could only shake her head.

“What is wrong with you?” SondraBeth demanded.

“I’m not that kind of person. Unlike some people. ‘Sista.’” Pandy pressed the button on the espresso machine, enjoying the racket of grinding coffee beans.

“Is that so?” SondraBeth narrowed her eyes.

“Sure looks that way.” Pandy took a sip of her espresso and burned her mouth. “Goddammit!”

SondraBeth took a few menacing steps toward Pandy. “You think you’re too good for this, don’t you? You think you’re too good for me. I thought you were my friend,” she hissed.

“I thought so, too,” Pandy snapped, throwing the hot coffee into the sink, where it landed with a dramatic splash. “But friends don’t have sex with other friends’ guys.”

“Oh, I get it,” SondraBeth snarled. “It’s all because of that secret I told you.”

Tags: Candace Bushnell Fiction
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