Crazy Bitch (Bitches and Queens) (5 page)

“Hannah, did you call someone
about the thermostat?” Willow called out from her office.

When she came in this morning,
it felt a little stuffy, but now in the middle of the afternoon it had to be at
least ninety-five degrees in here. Willow felt like she was literally sweating
to death. There was no way she could work in this sauna.

“They said they would get here
later today,” Hannah yelled back just before her phone began to ring.

For someone on hiatus, her
phone rang constantly. Because of their open doors, Willow could hear Hannah’s
side of the conversation and knew most of them were work related with an
occasional sprinkling of old friends. She wasn’t the type of person who
believed in individualized ring tones, but there was call that came through at
least twenty times a day that had that special honor. Most of the time, Hannah
wouldn’t answer, but when she did, she closed her door so Willow couldn’t hear.
Every time the door closed, Willow grew insatiably curious.

Willow became so hot she felt
like she couldn’t breathe. She pulled off her layers of clothing until she was
sitting at her desk wearing only a black bra and a pair of jeans. She felt only
marginally relieved. Hannah’s special tone began to ring for the tenth time
that day. Willow smirked when she heard Hannah groan a loud, “Fuck!”

Hannah angrily reached for her
phone and started to move towards her door to close it when she spotted Willow
sitting there in her bra. She did a double take before she closed the door
without her usual finesse. Leaning back against the closed door, Hannah closed
her eyes and let out of a soft groan before answering with a spiteful, “What?”

“I need you,” the voice called
from the other end. “I can’t live without you.”

“Considering you managed just
fine for several years before you met me, I think that is a bit of an
overstatement.”

“Hannah, please,” the voice
begged through her sloppy sobs.

“Francesca, this has to stop. I
already told you it is
over
. What part of that are you not getting?”
Hannah questioned impatiently.

“HANNAH!” Francesca screeched
with a piercing cry and then proceeded scream a bunch of nonsense.

Hannah rolled her eyes as she
pulled the phone away from her ear. She sat the phone down on her desk and
started looking over a document on her laptop, ignoring the tirade. After
several minutes, she picked it back up and spoke calmly “This is why I don’t
take your calls. You don’t make any goddamn sense.”

“I mean it this time, Hannah.
If you won’t see me, I’ll kill myself.”

Hannah began to rub at her
temple. The atrocious sound of Francesca’s blubbering was causing a headache.
Two weeks ago, she had threatened with pills. Last week, she had a blade.
Hannah could hardly wait to discover what she had in store this time. Some
might call these cries for help; Hannah thought they were just pathetic ploys
for her attention.

“I can’t keep doing this,”
Hannah said flatly. “Obviously, you need help. Next time instead of calling me,
maybe you should phone a medical professional.”

“I want you to watch me die. I
want you to see what you’ve done to me,” Francesca said with an eerie, childlike
voice. “I can see you.”

Hannah whirled around in her
chair and looked out the large glass window that overlooked the downtown
skyline. “What the fuck, Francesca?” she growled. A few seconds later, she
spotted Francesca—a lone figure standing on the roof of one of the skyscrapers.
The psychotic bitch actually waved at her. “Have you lost your fucking mind?
Get the fuck off that roof!”

“I’m going to jump,” Francesca
called gleefully with her arm stretched wide like a wing.

“This is it!” Hannah screamed. “This
is absolutely the last fucking time I am dealing with you. I’ll be there in a
few minutes, but if you don’t stop stalking me, I swear I’ll get a goddamn
restraining order.”

Hannah hung up the phone and
tossed it angrily into her purse.
Of all fucking days,
she grumbled
under her breath. Francesca decided to jump on the one day Willow was working
half-naked. Now instead of enjoying the view, Hannah had to go deal with her
lunatic ex-pet. The arrangements always ended badly, but Francesca took the
cake. Hannah had never had a more annoyingly insistent stalker.

No doubt, the heating/cooling
people would get here before she got back and fix the thermostat she had
tampered with earlier this morning. So much for that idea. Hannah decided not
to let her perfectly constructed plan go to total waste. Francesca could wait a
few minutes. It wasn’t as if she was planning to go anywhere anyways. Reaching
into her glass of water, Hannah plucked out an ice cube and headed over to
Willow’s office.

Although she hadn’t intended to
be particularly stealthy, Willow jumped when she felt the frozen cube slide
against the back of her neck and down her shoulders.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to
frighten you. I thought this might help,” Hannah explained as she used her
fingertip to sashay the piece of ice across Willow’s skin.

“Hmm, yeah,” Willow mumbled
while sitting up very straight and tall. Although she had grown accustomed to
Hannah’s little touches, this felt a little more erotic and a little less friendly,
especially when she leaned over her shoulder and the melting cube danced across
the curve of her breasts. Her skin prickled with goose bumps.

“You always get so lost when
you work. I wish I could peek inside your mind,” Hannah murmured as she let the
cube fall down the middle of her cleavage.

Willow silently thought Hannah
might not want to peek inside her mind at this exact moment, as her thoughts
would probably shock her. Willow turned around and looked up at Hannah shyly.

Considering her former
profession, she shouldn’t feel uncomfortable, as all her essential parts were
still covered, but she wasn’t on stage and Hannah wasn’t a client. She was her
boss. “Sorry, I was really hot.”

Hannah’s gaze flicked down to
Willow’s breasts and then back to her face. “I see that.”

Willow tried not to make too
much out of Hannah’s gaze. With Hannah, it could have meant anything or nothing
at all. Yet, she had the strangest sensation that she liked what she saw. Although
her features gave nothing away, there was the tiniest flame of something in her
blue eyes. For a long moment, neither of them said anything, but instead
watched the other with an increasing awareness, until Hannah stepped back with
a mischievous smile.

“I have to leave,” Hannah said,
sounding very reluctant.

Willow turned back to her
sketch. “Off to meet your mystery friend?”

“Is that what they call
psychotic stalkers these days?”

Willow turned back around, looking
concerned. “Do you want me to go with you? It might not be safe going alone.”

“It’s fine,” Hannah dismissed
with the wave of her hand. “She’s harmless.”

“All right,” Willow conceded as
a smile crept on her face.

“What?” Hannah questioned.

“Nothing,” Willow answered as
she continued to smile brightly.

Hannah’s eyes narrowed
suspiciously. “All right, I’m off. If you’re gone by the time I get back, I’ll call
you later.”

“All right,” Willow chuckled.

She’s,
Hannah
had said. She’s, as in, she has a
female
stalker. The same crazy bitch
that called several times every day. Willow couldn’t imagine Hannah would leave
to meet up with some everyday average stalker. This lady was an ex something.
Although this certainly wasn’t inconclusive proof, Willow began to think that
Hannah wasn’t entirely straight. First, there was the female stalker. Next, was
the fact that Hannah never mentioned any ex-boyfriends. Finally, Hannah had
clearly checked out her breasts, and had very nearly felt her up. Willow wouldn’t
go so far as to suggest that Hannah was gay, or even bisexual, but she did
begin to wonder if her interest wasn’t reciprocated.

Standing on a rooftop in the
middle of January topped Hannah’s list of the very last place she wanted to be.
Maybe, in summer? Maybe, when she wasn’t dealing with a suicidal freak? Maybe,
when she didn’t have a perfectly warm office with a delicious intern waiting
for her? But definitely not today. The whole situation made her grumpy.

“Francesca darling, I see you
haven’t grown a pair of wings,” Hannah called out.

Francesca ran over with the
enthusiasm of a lost puppy desperate for affection and launched herself in
Hannah’s arms. “You came! I knew you would come!”

Hannah peeled herself away and
held Francesca at arm’s length. A slight grimace of disgust wrinkled her brow.
It was such a shame. Francesca had such potential, but like all her other pets,
she wanted more. No matter how much she gave, they always wanted more.
Certainly, she was no Willow. No one was or ever would be. But how to make her
understand? Hannah wasn’t so cruel that she wanted Francesca to destroy
herself. She was young still and had years of life ahead of her. Besides, she
didn’t need another suicide attempt linked to her name. Her publicist, the one
employee who actually earned his pay, had done a fantastic job of shielding her
reputation in the past, but even he couldn’t work miracles.

“About that,” Hannah started, “we
are going to go downstairs, and I am going to take you to a lovely little
facility.”

“No, I want to be with you,”
Francesca sobbed.

“That’s not possible because I
don’t want to be with you. I’ve moved on, and I think it’s time you do so as
well.”

“I’ve seen you with her,”
Francesca whispered with a little-girl voice.

“Considering you have been
following me for weeks and I haven’t been exactly discreet, I’m sure you have,”
Hannah said blandly.

“She will never love you like I
do.”

“One certainly hopes not.”

Francesca grew remarkably
compliant. Hannah assumed she was just content to have her undivided attention,
even if it was only for a short time on their way to the psychiatric ward. She
wasn’t surprised Francesca followed along with very little argument. After all,
Hannah had trained her well. Like any other wild creatures, humans were very
easy to break if you knew how.

At the hospital, once Francesca
was whisked away to her isolated room for evaluation, Hannah met with physician
on duty to explain the situation.

“I’ve only met the dear girl a
few times, but she has developed this fixation on me. I would rather not
involve the police.”

“We will do our best, but if
she doesn’t stay on the prescribed treatment, you may have to,” the middle-aged
psychiatrist cautioned. “From what you described, she sounds delusional. So
far, her behavior has been rather benign, but occasionally people who suffer
from this type of disorder can become increasingly more aggressive.”

“I hope not,” Hannah murmured
thoughtfully. “She seemed so sweet.”

“Miss Fairbanks, I would like
to commend you for your thoughtfulness and consideration. Most people have no
tolerance for this kind of situation, let alone someone of your stature.”

“It’s nothing,” Hannah
dismissed with a pretty blush staining her cheeks. “I only hope you can make
her better.”

Hannah waited to call Willow
until she knew Zachary would just be arriving home for the evening, but before
he got settled in. Most nights, she was able to capture Willow’s undivided
attention and he would leave, but occasionally the bastard was persistent and
stuck around. On those nights, Hannah didn’t sleep well—kept awake by the
revolting image of them together. It would be so much easier once Zachary
realized he had lost.

“I hope you dressed before they
came to fix the thermostat,” Hannah said into the line.

“Of course,” Willow laughed. “I
never work for free,” she said and then grimaced at her slip. She hoped Hannah
hadn’t caught it. “So, how did it go this afternoon?”

Hannah let out a groan. “I
guess as best as it could, given the situation. But enough about that, let’s
talk Paris. I can’t wait to get you to myself for an entire week.”

“You have me to yourself every
day,” Willow said.

“It’s not the same,” Hannah
denied. “You always go home to him.”

“Well, I do live with him,”
Willow tried to tease.

“Hmm,” Hannah murmured, sounded
displeased. “After I finished today, I decided it was time to start packing.”

“Oh, maybe I should start too.”

“No, darling. I’m packing for
both of us.”

“Why?” Willow asked
suspiciously.

“Don’t be offended. These
people are ruthless bastards and you know what they say about first
impressions…”

Paris was divine. Hannah not so
much. From the moment they stepped off the plane, everything about her was
different. Back in Austin, she was still famous, but had always been able to
move around unrestrained by her celebrity status. But here in the ‘City of
Eternal Lights,’ Hannah wasn’t just another famous face—she was a legend. A
security team met them at the gates and escorted them all the way to her
apartment on 9
^th
street, which was not far from the famous
Moulin
Rouge
, but they hadn’t been able to stop the of army of paparazzi that
followed their every move.