Valentine's Revenge

A cup of coffee, toast, and scrambled eggs. A robe, messy hair, and eye bags like she hadn't slept at all last night.

This was Tamara Valentine and she had eyebags because she hadn't slept at all the last night. She stared at herself in a mirror, slightly disgusted. She took a sip of her coffee before taking a bite of her toast then looked at herself in the mirror again as she munched on the softness of the bread. She took a deep breath.

What kind of fucking life is this?

She walked away from the mirror and sat on a dining chair, resting her coffee cup on the table. Her eyes wandered to a piece of paper with a pen stabbed right through it. The words on the paper read Randal Meyers.

She thought it was poetic, perhaps it made her look crazy; writing her ex-boyfriend's name on a piece of paper and stabbing right through it. She would have gone for drawings but she wasn't much of an artist.

She kept biting from the toast and sipping from her coffee as her mind raced frantically.

The past year of house arrest might have not driven her completely crazy but she knew she had changed. She knew she had hate in her. She was filled with anger and lust for revenge every morning she woke up. She would always plot her return, and what she would do to the man who destroyed everything she had achieved and tried to destroy her.

Unsurprisingly, her mind would always wander to the idea of killing him, but she wasn't sure she had enough hate to drive her to murder someone so it was always a no-go for her.

She tore out a piece of paper from her jotter on the table and scribbled the name Randal Meyers, she stabbed the paper, again and again. She used this as a way to let out some anger and frustration. It kept her sane

What am I doing? She thought to herself, digging her fingers into her hair. It was something she had to deal with every day; questioning herself as to why what happened happened. Most times she thought it was a long nightmare, everything was so horrible that it had to be a nightmare.

She regretted not seeing the signs when they were right there. It all felt too good to be true and she fell for it, completely. Now Randal Meyers was living in some mansion he bought, spending the money he stole from her with her best friend Paige, while she is stuck in her home, denied the freedom of anything like an ordinary tweet.

Apart from the regular visits from her assistant, Elsa Voight she never had physical contact with other people. It was exasperating, to say the least.

She tore out another piece of paper and was about to write down his name once more when her doorbell rang. A confused look was on her face, Who the fuck could that be? She got up almost tripping on her slippers.

"Oh fuck." she put on her slippers and staggered towards the front door, "Elsa is that you? You're kind of early?" The doorbell rang again.

"Well fucking hold on then!" She opened the door. The face she saw was the most unrecognizable face she had ever seen "Who the hell are you?"

"Hello, Ms. Valentine. My name is Malia Goldman."

Tamara stared at her for a second then replied, "Okay, Malia Goldman. What do you want?"

"I believe you and I have a thing in common."

"Really, well what's that?"

"We have a common enemy."

Tamara gave her an inquisitive look, pretending to not be assuming what she meant. "What are you talking about?"

"I used to date Randal Meyers. He destroyed my life just as he did to yours and I want my revenge."

Tamara's eyes widened with curiosity, this was a sign, this was her chance.

"Are you gonna let me in?"

She blinked her eyes, returning to her senses. "Yes," she said, "yes I am."

It was as though the entire building had gone silent the moment she stepped out of her limo - an extremely expensive Rolls Royce Phantom. The swarm of press suddenly rushed at her, microphones and cameras attacking her like swords and shields. Bruce and Buck, her security guards did a good job of keeping them away.

"You look stunning Miss Valentine."

"How long have you been out of house arrest, Miss Valentine?"

"Who are you wearing tonight Miss Valentine?"

"Miss Valentine, what do you have to say about the charges against you last year?"

Tamara did her best to ignore the questions, handling the press was something she was very good at but not when she had been arrested for over a year.

That evening, she wore a floor length off shoulder blood red gown with a slit. On her neck was a necklace embellished with rubies which she had bought in an auction three years ago. Light kept flashing at her face, they kept taking pictures of her, throwing questions at her and telling her what to pose. She replied with a smile at each of their statements; the fakest yet prettiest smile she could come up with.

She walked the red carpet into the building where most of the guests were talking and drinking. He was certainly going to be there, she was sure of it.

As she stepped into the beautiful hall, she could see the surprised look on the faces of the people in the hall. Most of which she recognised and some she didn't at all.

"Oh, surprisingly we have a guest here." Curtis Williams, the host of the show and also a man who had asked her out on so many occasions spoke from the stand, "She's one of our major sponsors and one of the reasons we were able to hold this gala event. Ladies and Gentlemen, CEO of Valentines Makeup brand, Tamara Valentine." People cheered and clapped their hands, Tamara smiled and did a little nervous wave before she dived into the flood of people to hid.

Fuck, I need a drink. She thought to herself. She walked to the barside, keeping her head up high to avoid looking intimidated.

"Wine." she told the bartender, "red, blood orange spritzer."

"Got it." he replied. Tamara felt a bit of pain in her foot so she adjusted her toes in her red glass heels, squirming in the process. Raising her head, her eyes caught a familiar face. 'The' familiar face.

Randal Meyers was thirteen feet away from her, sitting on a sofa with Paige Nicholson, her once trusted friend. At that moment, the rush of anger came pumping through her veins, filling every vessel in her body. She clenched her fists and bit her lip. "Ma'am?"

The bartender's voice brought her back to the present, "Uhm yes?"

"Your drink?"

"Oh thank you." She took the glass of wine handed to her.

"Is everything okay ma'am?"

Tamara rolled her eyes, "Trust me, the last thing I want right now is narrating my problems to a bartender." She got up and as she turned around to leave, her hands struck on the fabric of a white suit, spilling her red drink all over it.

She looked up to see the striking man she had spilled her drink on, "Oh my God, I am so sorry." she placed her palms on her mouth running out of ideas of what to do or say "I am so so sorry. I wasn't looking."

"Well that's okay. It's alright." The man replied, he had a strong English accent.

"No it's not okay, look at your blazer. I've totally ruined it."

"It's nothing, I promise. Here, I'll just..." he then proceeded to take off his blazer.

"Oh." Tamara gave him a confused look, "Oh" she repeated when she understood what he was doing. She realised that she was staring at his arms, so she blinked and gave him an anxious smile. "Well that works."

He smiled and handed his blazer to one of the chauffeurs. "It does work, yes."

Tamara squinted her eyes as she stared at the man, "I've seen you before haven't I?" She pointed a finger at him. "I'm sorry, but you just look way familiar."

"Oh well I own the company that made the wine you just spilled on me."

She stared at him for a second and facepalmed "Yes, yes. It's you." realising how ironic the situation was she covered her face with her hands "This makes it so much worse, why did you have to say it like that."

The handsome man giggled, "It is a very ironic situation isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it is." She laughed a bit, "I just spilled your own wine on you."

He laughed with her, "Crazy innit?"

"And how do you know it's your wine anyways, you didn't see what bottle I got it from."

"I can tell my wine from the scent."

"Interesting."

"I assume it is. Well I'm sorry for making you spill your wine, maybe I could get you another one?"

"I think the wine is free." Tamara shyly replied

"I said get, not buy" he smiled widely at her and took a sit by the barside. "From its scent I can tell you enjoy red wine with blood orange spritzer."

Tamara smiled back then returned to her sit "It's a style my father thought me."

"You haven't tried other mixtures with your wine?"

She giggled a bit, "Well if I knew other mixtures, I guess I would have."

He signaled the bartender to pour him a glass of thesame wine. "In that case, let me tell you about other mixtures."

"I'm listening." she smiled dreamingly.

"The special thing about Leront," he raised the wine glass at her "our wine, is that it's very reactive to different ingredients."

"Oh I see."

"Can I get soda water and raspberry juice." he asked the bartender.

"Raspberry juice?" Tamara smiled at him trying to understand what he was about to do.

"Wait for it." he smiled back cockily. "Alright," he took the soda water from the bartender and poured a bit of it into the glass of wine. "So you add the soda water, just a fair bit, not too much."

"Okay..."

"And then raspberry juice." he added a considerate amount of that too. Raising the glass, he smiled again "The color doesn't change but tell me what you think about the taste." He then handed the glass to her.

Accepting the drink, she looked up at him, unable to stop herself from smiling, "I don't even know what your name is."

"I don't know what your name is either." he shrugged comically. Tamara laughed a bit, before she stopped to study the man who had just handed her a drink.

"Okay." she smiled in agreement and took a sip of the drink. "Mhm." she exclaimed

"Mhm." he mimicked her. She then took a much bigger sip. "You're supposed to savour it. Oh okay." The man started to laugh.

"Mhm, it's actually so good." she cleaned her mouth.

"I can tell."

She gulped what was left in the glass "Well I guess I know another wine mixture then."

"You were supposed to savour it." He teased her.

"Oh I did a lot of savouring, don't worry." They both laughed.

"What is your name?" she asked

"My name is Nathaniel Benett, Call me Nathan."

"Yes, now I remember. Your dad was Fitzgerald Benett."

"Yes he was."

"I'm sorry about him by the way."

"Oh, that's alright. You don't have to pretend that you liked him any way."

She smiled, "I want to say that's a relief but I think that would be extremely inappropriate."

"I wouldn't take offense." Nathan replied laughing. "And what is your name?"

Tamara gave him a look that was meant to say 'youre definitely kidding'

"What?"

"I assumed you were joking the first time. You're saying you do not know who I am."

"No I do not"

"Even after the nice welcome speech the four-foot handsome host gave for me?"

Nathan held back a laugh, "No, I don't think I was here for that part."

"You just got here now?"

"Yes, and I wanted to get a drink."

"And then I spill my drink on you, I'm so sorry."

"We've got past that already, it's all okay on my end."

"So this is your first conversation since you got here?"

"It very well is."

"Mine too. Mine too." She asked for another drink. "You haven't heard about a Tamara Valentine who was arrested for using her company to sponsor a terrorist group?"

"Wow. No, I haven't but she must be a terrible person."

Tamara nodded her head and smiled, "I'm Tamara Valentine."

"Oh," Nathan sat up straight. "Bullocks, why would you do something like that."

"Well, I wouldn't do something like that." She sipped from the glass, "I didn't do it."

Nathan gave her a confused look. "Oh."

Tamara frowned, "If you look directly behind me, you'll see a man, with brown hair, a grey suit with a woman in a purple dress."

"Affirmative."

"Well, that is my ex." She sipped from her glass again.

"The man or the woman?"

"The man," she replied smiling.

"Oh. I see. Well, whatever would make you break up with him?"

"He is the reason I was arrested." She did a fake smile, tapping her fingers on the table. "He's a con man, or he was. I don't know at this point."

"He conned you? Got you arrested for something you didn't do?"

"You know at this point I still don't know how he did it. Well, I do know he made me fall in love and trust him, but I still don't know how he linked my company with some terrorist group." Her tapping on the table became louder, "He took all my money first, and to stop me from trying to get it back, he got me arrested for what I didn't do. Stayed in a cell for four days and got house arrest for a year. I almost got ten years in prison you know." She turned to face Nathan. "Good lawyers, I guess."

Nathan did a deep breath, "I'm sorry about that. People... people can be selfish."

"Yeah," Tamara nodded, "I guess they can." She dried a small tear and then smiled at him. "Well tell me, how have you been in California and you don't know about the infamous Tamara Valentine?"

"Well, that's the thing innit? I haven't been in California."

"Oh."

"Yes, I lived in England. Manchester to be exact. When my father passed away I had to come to take up my birthright and the family name and stuff like that, whatever."

"Was that like difficult?"

"I wouldn't say difficult, but I had other things I wanted to do. So although I was reluctant at first, I knew I had a responsibility to my father's name, even though it was a very stained one."

"Maybe you can help clean it up."

"Yes, maybe I can." He took a sip from his glass before taking a peek at the man Tamara had shown him earlier. "This is why you're here tonight isn't it?"

"Huh?"

"This man, he's the reason you have decided to show up at this gala event."

"How would you know that?"

Nathan looked at her, then drank from his glass. "It is what I would do." He stared into the wine in his glass, "It would keep him uneasy to know that the person he tried to destroy is back. To know that you could come for him at any moment, that you didn't stay down."

Tamara gazed passionately at Nathan, the way he spoke what he spoke touched her. He understood what she wanted without even understanding how she felt. She looked at his face and his perfectly groomed beard then at his red steaming lips. This man oozed confidence and a sexual aura that Tamara wanted but she didn't want to run into things, no not again. She didn't want to -

"Do you want to dance?" she heard herself say.

"Do I want to dance?"

"Yes, would you like to?"

"I'd really like that, yes." He smiled gracefully.

"Okay then." She smiled back, taking his hand as they both joined the slow dance. Her head on his shoulder, his hands on her waist as they both moved to the rhythm of each other's bodies.

Tamara raised her head from his shoulder and rested her jaw instead, she almost jolted at the sight of Randal Meyers glaring down at her from the sofa he was sitting on. He looked furious like he was about to break the wine cup he had in his hand. Tamara glared back, she was going to show him that she wasn't going to back down, she was coming for him and she was going to win.

She raised her left hand behind Nathan's back, her middle finger pointing at him. She mouthed the words, "Fuck you."

Chapter Three:

At home later that night, Tamara lay in bed, facing the ceiling with her phone in her left hand. She couldn't stop herself from thinking about him - Nathan Benett. His scent was stuck on her dress and she didn't want to take it off. Her mind lavished on when he placed his hand on her hips and pulled her closer, it was like everyone had stopped dancing except them both.

She looked at her phone and bit her lip, wanting so bad to call him. It would make you look desperate, she thought. She looked back to the ceiling, sniffing in the air to try to catch his scent from her dress again. She did. His English accent was amazing too, she remembered listening to him dreamingly about wine and things she barely understood but she was fully focused, on everything he spoke. Like he was speaking directly into her soul.

"Okay, Mara." She spoke to herself as she jumped out of her bed, "that was way too cheesy, speaking directly into my soul?" She facepalmed. "What am I even thinking?"

She looked at her phone again, made up her mind, and dialed his number. She took a deep breath as it rang and surprisingly it didn't ring that long at all.

"Tamara?"

"Oh, Nathan." She bit her lip in utter nervosity "Uhh, I don't know...I just wanted to call you. Hope that's okay?"

"Of course," Tamara could hear him chuckle, "you know you beat me to it?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I wanted to call you right now, swear it."

"Okay." she smiled shyly, "that makes me feel a bit better."

"Happy to help."

"So uhm, I called cause I wanted to ask you something."

"I'm all ears, go for it."

She took a deep breath and spat out the words as calmly as she could, "Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?"

"Dinner, I don't suppose you mean like a date?"

She tightened her lip, "Mhm, I kinda do."

"Say less, I would like to go to dinner with you, Valentine."

Her smile was so wide, "Really?"

"Yes."

"Okay then." Her smile had reduced to a small blush

"Okay. Now you have a night."

"You too." She cut the line and clenched her fists in relief and victory. "Yes." She jumped to her bed.

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"Didn't you see her Paige, you saw her with your own two fucking eyes."

"Yes I did, but that doesn't mean..."

"It does! It does! That fucking bitch is going to try and take everything we've worked for."

"She can't. It's impossible."

The sitting room in the mansion Randal Meyers had bought was a blazing fire. Another heated argument, the fourth that week. Randal was anxious with the appearance of Tamara that night, perturbed, dithery, worried, and scared. Paige Nicholson was trying her best to calm him down once again.

"What do you mean it's impossible? Huh," he poured himself another glass of wine.

"Her company is broke, maybe in debt considering all the money we took from her. Her image is ruined, no one is going to work with her, she can't come back from this, Randal."

"And who was the man she was dancing with? Huh, Paige? That was Nathan fucking Benett, one of our fucking clients, Paige. We supply transport for his goods, for his wine! I'm telling you I know Tamara, she always has an ace up her sleeve. She always has something planned and I'll be damned if I'm the one who's going to go down." He gulped down the wine in the glass and poured another.

"Baby, you should take it easy with the wine."

Randal's right palm whacked Paige on the face, and she fell, holding her cheek in pain. "What did you say to me?"

"I'm sorry, I just thought...I'm sorry?"

"You think I take too much wine, you think I drink too much?" He hit her again. This time on the other side of her cheek. She tried to get up but he pushed her down to her knees "I told you not to run from me, didn't I Paige?"

"I'm sorry, please."

He hit her with his fist on her back and then kicked her twice on her tummy as she rolled over in pain. "Get up, get a fucking broom and clean this up." He pointed at the broken glass which had fallen when he first struck her. He walked away.

Paige laid on the floor, sobbing with her hands on her tummy, this was the third time that week he had hit her, he had promised not to, but he never kept them.

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The next morning was an exciting one for Tamara, although she was worried about it too. She dressed for work for the first time in fourteen months. Dilys Thomas, her make-up artist was beaming with happiness that she was back taking care of her favorite client's face.

Elsa Voight had shown up that morning to help her arrange and fill her up on what had been going on while she was away.

The company had been under the care of her cousin, Stacy Cantrell, and the Floridan Dolimares, a group of the wealthiest body care, fashion, and makeup companies in the United States. Stacy who was a member of the group had offered herself to watch over her cousin's company as a favor so it doesn't completely crumble.

There was only little Stacy could do, customers had refused to buy the makeup products from the company, even just the healthcare ones. They didn't want their money to be used as sponsorship to terrorist groups. Stacy had avoided the press and maintained a low profile for the company ever since the incident, even taking out funds from her own business to keep the company afloat, but it was sinking fast.

A few of the employees had stayed, most of which were very certain that Tamara didn't involve herself with the things they had charged her with. Most of them that stayed are the ones that had the financial capability to stay, some believed her but couldn't afford to stay with the low wage and some were financially stable themselves but didn't want to associate with the bad name, so many had left.

Hearing all this, Tamara concluded that rebuilding her fallen company was going to be more difficult than she anticipated. She was going to need help.

As expected there was a swarm of press outside the gates of her company's headquarters. The building was a large tall one like other skyscrapers but it was made in a unique design to look a bit like lipstick. As her limo rode into the gates, the press stuck their camera and microphones on the windshields of the car, throwing their questions.

Why do they keep doing that? Tamara wondered, The windshields are up and it's not like I'm even going to answer them.

The car drove onto the premises of the building and as she came out of the car, she could still hear the questions the press shouted to her. "Are you a supporter of the Knights Of The Pure Skin?"

"How long have you been out of jail, Miss Valentine!"

"Miss Valentine! What are your plans for your company now?"

"Is your company ever going to get back to the big lights?"

Even I ask myself that question, Tamara thought to herself as she walked in. Bruce and Buck are on her sides.

"Good morning, Miss Valentine." The tall security man greeted in his strong African accent as he opened the door.

"Ballack, you're here." Valentine greeted in surprise.

"Yes ma'am. I am. I still am." He said with a smile. Valentine smiled back having a bit of relief and joy that some of her employees were still invested with her.

"I'm happy to see that." She replied and proceeded to the elevator. Maybe it's not that bad, she thought to herself in the elevator. Reaching her destination, she adjusted her blazer and walked out of the elevator.

"Good morning, Miss Valentine."

"Good morning," she greeted a face she didn't recognize, obviously Stacy would have hired some new employees.

"Good morning, Miss Valentine."

"Britney, how are you?" Valentine smiled to see a familiar face.

"I'm doing great ma'am." Britney's full name was Britney Spears, yes. She was made fun of it a lot while some thought it was cool.

She was greeted by a few more before she arrived at her door, she could see Stacy through the glass and a man sitting on her chair with his legs crossed on the table.

"Alright thanks, guys, I'll take it from here." Bruce and Buck looked into the room and then back at her. "Don't worry" she said, "I can handle myself from here." They both nodded and walked away.

Tamara opened the door and walked into her office, "What's going on?" she asked. Stacy turned and brightened up at the sight of her cousin, "Tammy," she exclaimed, hugging her before grabbing her cheeks and pecking her. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Yes, Stace. I'm happy to see you too but what is going on here, who's this hairy porker?"

"Jesus, Tamara?"

Tamara glared at her cousin with an "I don't give a fuck" look on her face "Who is he?"

The man stood up on his feet, he was quite fat, with a white beard that almost filled his entire face. "Tamara, this is Tedd Chambers, vice administrative assistant of Floridan Dolimares." Stacy introduced.

He offered his hand for a handshake, Tamara eyed his hand, glared at him then looked back at Stacy. "Well, what does he want?"

"Alright Tammy, you have to promise me to stay calm." Stacy held her cousin on the shoulders.

Tamara pushed her hands off, "I can't promise you that, what does he want?"

"It's about the company okay? The Floridan thinks that you are not uhm... you're not fit to oversee the company?"

She looked at Tedd Chambers, "You motherfuckers," then at Stacy, "My company? You think I'm not fit to oversee my company?"

"It's not that way, Tammy come on. You signed the agreement that the Floridan would swoop in to oversee anything that happens to you."

Tamara's eyes widened, "Nothing has happened to me, I'm right here!"

"Tamara that's not exactly true."

Tamara stared at her for a second and asked, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Tamara, you're broke. The company's gone broke, its name is on the mud, dragging the Floridan to the mud too. I had to oversee it for a while to see if I could stop it from happening but I couldn't. This is the only way."

"The only way my ass. This is their way, the way they want." She dropped her bag on her desk, " I'm not giving up my company to this guy. Do you think he cares about makeup and skincare? Look at him, I would be more understanding if this was a meat burger company."

"Come on, Tammy you don't have to be rude," Stacy said holding back a laugh.

"I'm not broke, Stace. I'm not. That's why I'm here. To get my company back on track with my money and my sweat."

"We are not trying to steal your company from you, Miss Valentine. This is for the betterment of our group and to keep the Floridan name clean, you will..."

"Shut your mouth, Santa Claus. You and I aren't having a conversation." She turned back to Stacy, "I'm not broke. I have this under control. It's my company. I decide when I am done, and when I can't go on any longer, but I still have a fight in me."

"But do you have money?" Stacy asked with pity.

Tamara hesitated with her answer, "I do. I will. Give me time. There has to be some kind of time-space, right?" She stared at the both of them "Give me time and I will get the money, I will bring the results. And when I do I keep my company."

There was silence for a few seconds. Stacy then walked up to Tedd Chambers and spoke silently to him, they had a very quiet conversation before breaking it off.

"Alright Tamara, Tedd here says he and the Floridan will be willing to give you one week."

"One week? Do you guys think I'm a magician?"

"One week, Tammy. Take it or leave it "

She bit her lip and tapped her foot on the floor, "I'll take it."

"Alright then, you get to have your company for one week, maybe more if you can do the work by then."

"I will."

"I'm rooting for you cous," Stacy said and hugged Tamara.

"One week is still kinda short tho." Tamara teased.

"Tedd said it would have been longer if you had been nicer to him."

"Well tell him to shove his extra few weeks up to his ass," Tamara said loudly as they left the office. "Let him go through the door first, Stace. I don't think you both can fit!"

Tamara collapsed on her chair and breathed in deeply. They were right, she was broke, her company was broke and everything was falling into pieces. And now she had one week to get enough money to grow her company once more, how was she going to do that?

She hit her head repeatedly on her desk, "Oh, you're so screwed Tamara."

Her phone rang, "Who the fuck is it?" She thought as she searched for her phone in her bag. Her face lit up with a smile as she saw the name on the screen. It was Nathan.