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Authors: Michelle Pace, Tammy Coons
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unconcerned.
“Hoult.” Cheyenne informed them all. Scott removed his
arm from around her, and she knew he was pissed at her, but she
didn’t care. “Christopher Hoult.”
“Yes! Phillip told him to piss off and started to walk away,
but the bloke grabbed his shoulder and hit him. Before I knew
what was what, this Christopher dude was on the floor, and Dave
was yanking Phillip off of him.” Nathan held his fist out at Phillip who halfheartedly bumped it.
“Don’t start nothin’, won’t be nothin’.” Scot agreed with a
cocky shrug that was out of character for him. Phillip nodded at Scot in thanks for his obvious support.
50
RAGE
Cheyenne glowered at them both like they were simpletons
and turned to Saffron ready to deliver the coup de grace. “Christopher ended up in the hospital with a broken nose and a frac-
tured rib. Stephanie felt awful that her agent had the crap kicked out of him for trying to stand up for her…defend her honor. So
she went to the hospital to thank him for what she considered
going way above and beyond his job description. Steph was pret-
ty surprised when Christopher told her he needed to resign as her agent because he was having trouble remaining professionally
detached when it came to her. She was shocked, but she refused
his resignation. Then a month later he finally asked her out.”
“No way! Did she say yes? Are they dating now?” Saffron
graced Cheyenne with an impish grin. Cheyenne turned her dark
eyes on Phillip who froze with his beer halfway to his lips, gaping at her words. Steph was no angel, but dammit, he’d messed
with her best friend and needed to be taken down a notch or two.
Phillip seemed glued to the spot, and his blue eyes seemed both
surprised and troubled.
Good.
Out of the corner of her eye Cheyenne watched him tilt his
head to one side and stare at her, waiting for her response. She smiled cheerfully at Saffron.
“At first she said no, but by the holidays he wore her down.
They’ve been seeing each other ever since.”
51
CHAPTER FIVE
Steph pushed back her seat and reclined tiredly. She accept-
ed a beer from the flight attendant with a grateful smile. They
were on the last leg of what had been the never-ending trip to
hell. Sure, hell happened to look a lot like the Garden of Eden, but as Cedric had often reminded her, the devil’s favorite trick was convincing folks he didn’t exist.
Fernando de Noronha. In college she’d drooled over the
photographs in Condé Nast Traveler . She’d been dying to go to the exclusive island off the coast of Brazil and photograph it for herself, and now she’d be there in less than an hour. Unbelievable. If she’d stayed for a month and never slept, she would never get all the shots she wanted. But she wasn’t going for herself, or for National Geographic . She was going as a favor to D.J. Dave, Fury’s fabulous drummer and all-around nice guy. Her photos of
the astounding beaches, turquoise waters, and dramatic rock
formations would have to be squeezed in between Yara’s in-
creasingly Bridezilla-esque demands.
Even so, who doesn’t love an all-expense-paid trip to para-
dise? Someone who feels like she’s marching toward the guillo-
tine, that’s who. Stephanie was about to face a group of old
friends whom she adored, but who had witnessed her make a
series of unfixable mistakes. She would have to watch Cheyenne
frolic happily with Scot and little Liam and beat back the grow-
ing jealousy of the happy family, an envy that pulsed through her 52
RAGE
veins like poisonous venom. And for Steph, a wedding didn’t
symbolize new beginnings, but served as a tragic reminder of her own self mutilating cowardice.
And then there was Phillip.
Steph rubbed her temple and wondered if she’d need to take
migraine medicine for the first time in over a year. Phillip would be on the island. The archipelago was roughly ten square miles,
and she was convinced that it just
“Hoult.” Cheyenne informed them all. Scott removed his
arm from around her, and she knew he was pissed at her, but she
didn’t care. “Christopher Hoult.”
“Yes! Phillip told him to piss off and started to walk away,
but the bloke grabbed his shoulder and hit him. Before I knew
what was what, this Christopher dude was on the floor, and Dave
was yanking Phillip off of him.” Nathan held his fist out at Phillip who halfheartedly bumped it.
“Don’t start nothin’, won’t be nothin’.” Scot agreed with a
cocky shrug that was out of character for him. Phillip nodded at Scot in thanks for his obvious support.
50
RAGE
Cheyenne glowered at them both like they were simpletons
and turned to Saffron ready to deliver the coup de grace. “Christopher ended up in the hospital with a broken nose and a frac-
tured rib. Stephanie felt awful that her agent had the crap kicked out of him for trying to stand up for her…defend her honor. So
she went to the hospital to thank him for what she considered
going way above and beyond his job description. Steph was pret-
ty surprised when Christopher told her he needed to resign as her agent because he was having trouble remaining professionally
detached when it came to her. She was shocked, but she refused
his resignation. Then a month later he finally asked her out.”
“No way! Did she say yes? Are they dating now?” Saffron
graced Cheyenne with an impish grin. Cheyenne turned her dark
eyes on Phillip who froze with his beer halfway to his lips, gaping at her words. Steph was no angel, but dammit, he’d messed
with her best friend and needed to be taken down a notch or two.
Phillip seemed glued to the spot, and his blue eyes seemed both
surprised and troubled.
Good.
Out of the corner of her eye Cheyenne watched him tilt his
head to one side and stare at her, waiting for her response. She smiled cheerfully at Saffron.
“At first she said no, but by the holidays he wore her down.
They’ve been seeing each other ever since.”
51
CHAPTER FIVE
Steph pushed back her seat and reclined tiredly. She accept-
ed a beer from the flight attendant with a grateful smile. They
were on the last leg of what had been the never-ending trip to
hell. Sure, hell happened to look a lot like the Garden of Eden, but as Cedric had often reminded her, the devil’s favorite trick was convincing folks he didn’t exist.
Fernando de Noronha. In college she’d drooled over the
photographs in Condé Nast Traveler . She’d been dying to go to the exclusive island off the coast of Brazil and photograph it for herself, and now she’d be there in less than an hour. Unbelievable. If she’d stayed for a month and never slept, she would never get all the shots she wanted. But she wasn’t going for herself, or for National Geographic . She was going as a favor to D.J. Dave, Fury’s fabulous drummer and all-around nice guy. Her photos of
the astounding beaches, turquoise waters, and dramatic rock
formations would have to be squeezed in between Yara’s in-
creasingly Bridezilla-esque demands.
Even so, who doesn’t love an all-expense-paid trip to para-
dise? Someone who feels like she’s marching toward the guillo-
tine, that’s who. Stephanie was about to face a group of old
friends whom she adored, but who had witnessed her make a
series of unfixable mistakes. She would have to watch Cheyenne
frolic happily with Scot and little Liam and beat back the grow-
ing jealousy of the happy family, an envy that pulsed through her 52
RAGE
veins like poisonous venom. And for Steph, a wedding didn’t
symbolize new beginnings, but served as a tragic reminder of her own self mutilating cowardice.
And then there was Phillip.
Steph rubbed her temple and wondered if she’d need to take
migraine medicine for the first time in over a year. Phillip would be on the island. The archipelago was roughly ten square miles,
and she was convinced that it just