Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [105]
“See, now this isn’t so bad, is it?” he teased, giving me a squeeze and I smiled, relaxing into his chest happily.
I should have known my happiness would be short-lived.
“Excuse me, Brendan, you should really be focusing on your duties and not letting yourself get distracted,” came the catty comment from the other side of the desk.
I stiffened, feeling every nerve tense up. I didn’t even have to look to know who had just interrupted our moment. “Um, hello? I’m talking here.” Kristin’s voice got more demanding. “All I’m saying, Brendan, is that you’re here to provide the music and you’re ignoring your job.” I turned just in time to see Kristin narrowing her pearlized shadow-covered eyes at me. “Don’t forget, you’re here as the help.”
“I don’t hear anyone complaining,” Brendan answered, regarding her with a barely perceptible tilt of his head. He didn’t even seem to notice her little dig about him being “the help.”
“Well, I’m complaining.” Kristin folded her arms underneath her chest—which had been stuffed and arranged like it was a proud product of the Build-a-Bear Workshop. I noticed she lifted her arms to pump up her shimmer-lotioned cleavage a little more. Does this girl ever give it a rest?
“So? Who the hell are you to me? Big deal,” Brendan scoffed, keeping his left arm around me as he broke our embrace to put his headphones to his right ear while he changed to a vinyl track.
“The big deal, since you ask, is that I’m in charge of this dance,” Kristin sneered, grabbing his wrist with acrylic nails and yanking his arm down. “And I. Am. Complaining!”
My fists clenched. How dare she touch him!
As if Brendan could reach my thoughts, he gave me a calming squeeze.
“You’re lucky you’re a lady,” Brendan retorted coolly, pulling his wrist free. “Although it’s a loose use of the word ‘lady,’ I’ll admit.”
Kristin flinched, a flicker of anger crossing her face. Then she turned her cold gaze to me.
“You.” She sniffed, flicking her index finger my way.
“Excuse me?” I asked, incredulous.
“Oh, there’s no excuse for you,” Kristin jeered, her bow lips turned up in a perfectly pink sneer. “But I want you to come move a box for me.”
“I’m not on your little committee.” I tried to keep the anger out of my voice.
“Yeah, that’s right. You don’t do anything for the school except bring its value down.” Kristin grinned, baring her teeth.
“Kristin, I swear, if you don’t get the hell out of here…” Brendan slammed his hand on the desk and caused the music to skip, the warning tone in his voice bordering on rage.
“Save your stupid insults, Kristin,” I said, getting impatient. “What do you want?”
“Just grunt work. I figured you could handle that,” she said, regarding me with distaste. “We need another box of raffle tickets brought up from the basement. It’s dirty and none of my friends should touch something that gross.”
“You’ve wasted our time enough, Kristin,” Brendan cut in, stepping between us. “As you pointed out, I have a job to do here. So get one of your little idiots to move whatever it is that you want moved and leave my girlfriend alone.”
Kristin scowled when Brendan called me his girlfriend.
“Have it your way,” she purred, her voice saturated with saccharine evil. “So on Monday, I’ll just go to Principal Casey and tell her that all you did was play some crappy playlist while you made out with—” she pointed at me “—that all night. And I’ll talk about how upset I am about the terrible way you threatened me and my date when I told you to shape up.”
She batted her eyelashes angelically. “I mean, I only wanted what was best for the dance and the school.”
“Go ahead,” Brendan scoffed. But I stiffened. He was already on probation—one more straw and he was out. The last thing in the world I needed was for him to get into more trouble. His mother already probably hated me.
“Fine, where is this stupid box?” I sighed, resigned.
“Emma, no. You don’t answer to her.” Brendan glared at Kristin angrily.