A Rival's Proposal (Proposal Series Novellas Book 3) Read online

  A Rival’s Proposal

  Proposal Series Book 3

  Lia London

  A Rival’s Proposal is a work of fiction. Any resemblance characters have to people living or dead is purely coincidental. I mean, I did have an academic rival in high school, and we may have gone out for a while, but this is totally not about him. Or me. Obviously. No red hair. And I’m not nearly as nice as Angelika.

  Copyright © 2019 Lia London

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Angelika

  Viktor – a month later

  Angelika

  Viktor – a few minutes later

  Angelika – fifteen minutes later

  Viktor – at the end of the night

  Angelika – a few minutes later

  Viktor

  Angelika – a month later

  Viktor – an hour later

  Angelika – two weeks later

  Viktor – two weeks later

  Angelika – two weeks later

  Viktor – several days later

  Angelika – two hours later

  Viktor – that evening around sunset

  Angelika – two weeks later

  Viktor – the next morning

  Angelika – a few days later

  Viktor – 7:59 that night

  Angelika – a few days later

  Viktor – a few nights later

  Angelika – the next weekend

  Viktor – next Saturday morning

  Angelika – later that night

  Viktor – several days later

  Angelika – ten minutes later

  Viktor – a few days later

  Angelika – the next day

  Viktor – a few months later

  Angelika

  “What’s with the cat?”

  Angelika Aldrich set the cardboard carrier down on the end table and leaned against the door to close it. Gerianne, her roommate of six years, sat cuddled underneath a fleece blanket reading another one of her two-inch thick fantasy novels.

  Lifting a scrawny orange tabby from the box, Angelika cradled it in her arms. “They were going to put him down today.”

  “He looks half dead already,” droned Gerianne.

  “He’s not half dead. He lost one of his legs.” She waved her fingers over the place where the missing front left appendage should have been. “His name is Chucho, and he will be my boyfriend from now on.”

  “That’ll be a step up from your usual fare of subspecies. At least a cat has recognizable intelligence.”

  “My boyfriends haven’t been that bad.”

  “If you say so.” Gerianne yawned. “As long as you pay the pet deposit and clean up its messes, I don’t care.” She swept her black bangs back over the bleached half-inch fuzz covering the rest of her head and resumed reading the novel.

  Chucho examined the fleecy lump that was Gerianne’s foot, hissed, and dove from Angelika’s arms to the couch for a solid chomp.

  “Ow!” Gerianne jerked away. “Keep the beastie away from me!”

  “Come on, Chucho.” Angelika scooped him up and snuggled him. “I love you. I’ll take care of you.” She disappeared into her bedroom and sighed at the stack of junk mail on her bed. The return address on one caught her eye, and she snatched it up. “Oh my gosh, it came!” she shouted over her shoulder.

  “What came?”

  “My ten-year reunion invite!”

  “Whoop-dee-ding-dong-day.” Gerianne didn’t celebrate real world events while in the throes of dragon warfare with magic swords.

  Angelika rummaged in the closet for her lone box of memorabilia. Rejoining Gerianne in the living room, she waved her prize. “Found it!”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Look, Ger. It’s a book!”

  Gerianne gave her a reluctant smile. “With pictures?”

  Angelika nodded with a wicked grin. “The very best kind of pictures. It’s my senior yearbook. You’ve got to see this. Oh my gosh, I’m so excited to find out how everyone is doing.” She dropped beside Gerianne and flipped the book open to an earmarked page. “Check this out.”

  “That’s you? You looked like Little Orphan Annie.”

  Angelika groaned. “Not you, too. That’s what Viktor Giles always called me.”

  “Viktor Giles was right.”

  “Viktor Giles was a jerk.”

  “A cute jerk?”

  Angelika gaped at her roomie. “Since when did you care about cute?”

  “Since the world of your past suddenly became interesting. Who knew your long, red hair used to be a copper pot scrubber?”

  “Ha ha. You’re so funny.” Angelika scowled and flipped to another page. “There. That’s Viktor. I hated that guy.”

  Gerianne’s face transformed with a mischievous grin. “Is that why you earmarked the page?”

  “No!” Maybe. Why would she have done that?

  “He’s got intelligent eyes and a fun smile.”

  Angelika gaped at her roomie. “He and I were voted Most Likely to Kill Each Other.”

  “I never knew you were this interesting.” Gerianne leaned in to study his picture. “Kind of skinny, though, huh?”

  “He stored all his fat in his head.”

  “Uh-huh. And you hated him because…?”

  Angelika pushed back an errant smile at the memory of their frequent squabbles. “Let’s just say we were… competitive.”

  “You?”

  “Very.”

  “To the death competitive?” Gerianne snickered. “Don’t tell me you’re secretly a fifth-degree ninja or something.”

  “No, but if something at school could be turned into a competition, we were in the middle of it.”

  “And who won?”

  Angelika leaned back, holding the yearbook to her chest. “Depends on who you ask, but mostly, we were pretty evenly matched. It took a lot of effort to beat him sometimes, but victory was sweet.”

  “Victory, but not Viktor?” Gerianne quirked a brow.

  “He’s not sweet. He’s a jerk.”

  Gerianne pursed her lips and reopened her novel. “I sense an epic love battle coming. When’s the reunion?”

  “Next month.”

  “I bet he’s quaking in his skinny little gym shorts.”

  Viktor – a month later

  Viktor Giles strode into the convention center flanked by his best pals from the teenage years, Dev and Lars. Success was his middle name. This would be a very good night as long as no one asked him about his personal life.

  For half an hour, he greeted old friends with back slaps and exaggerated laughter, making sure to mention his recent promotion, his new Tesla, and how many strokes under par he averaged on the greens.

  During a lull, while the former student body president gave a formal welcome speech, Dev nudged Viktor with his elbow and leaned in. “Man, check out how fat Andy and Brad got!”

  “Now, now,” oozed Viktor. “Be kind to the plebes. They can’t all grow up to be me.” He groaned inwardly at himself. How quickly he’d fallen back into the bravado act, his coping mechanism to cover the constant tension with his father.

  “The only thing you’re missing is your Daddy’s love, right?” teased Lars.

  Viktor turned steely eyes on Lars. Could he read minds or something? “What’d you say that for?”

  “I mean the love of a good woman,” amended Lars.

  “I get loving,” protested Viktor, fearing the pitch of his voice might betray the truth. “You think I can’t get action?”

  “Love, I said.”

&
nbsp; Viktor glared at Lars. The guy probably thought he was a genius because he’d been married five years and spawned two gorgeous little girls.

  Dev chuckled. “No, man. He can have any girl here he wants.” He punched Viktor playfully. “You could even get old Annie Aldrich.”

  Lars affected a snobby woman’s voice. “Angelika to you, peasant.”

  “Gross. Are you kidding me?” Viktor gave a showy shudder. “She was horrible in high school. I’m sure she’s only gotten worse with time.”

  Lars stroked his chin. “I don’t know. For two people who supposedly hated each other, you were always together.”

  “Fighting.” Viktor shook his head in disbelief. “We were in each other’s faces.”

  “Okay,” said Lars. “But you both have those pretentious Ks in your names, and you were both always top of the class, or the court, or the kumquat tree, or whatever stupid thing you—”

  “Would you shut up about Annie?” Viktor sneered. “I’m trying to enjoy this season of triumph. Besides, she’s probably too chicken to show, since she knew I’d outclass her in every possible way.”

  “Hmm. I don’t know about that.” Dev tapped a finger over his lips and gave a pointed glance towards the back of the room. “A certain redhead just came in looking like she owns the town and the fire hydrant your dog pees on.”

  Viktor bristled. “Ew. You are so weird.” Straightening his jacket and rolling his shoulders back, he whispered, “Is she really here?”

  “Yep.”

  “How does she look?”

  Dev cocked an eyebrow. “Prettier than you.”

  Viktor swallowed. “Dang.” She’d probably be all full of herself. He dared a glimpse to the back of the crowd. “Dang.” Dev was right.

  Angelika

  Angelika spotted Viktor and his posse the moment she entered, and her stomach churned to see how well he’d filled out. “Dang,” she muttered, moving in the opposite direction with her head held high. She refused to take any guff from him today, but he’d stolen some of her ammunition for scathing one-liners. No more skinny neck or complexion issues. Why’d he have to go and get all handsome?

  Making the whispering rounds while the old class officers blabbed about fundraising for the 20-year reunion, she learned, to her dismay, that Viktor Giles had lived up to every single one of his juvenile boasts. He was pulling mid six-digits on the fast track to executive status and living the high life. Her only comfort came when people would add, “Still not married, though,” or “Can’t find a woman who’ll fit in the Tesla with his ego.”

  After the fifth time they made disdainful eye contact across the room, she decided to take the battle to Viktor. She’d squash his proud peacock feathers under the heels of her own more mature apathy. But as she fixed her gaze on him and plotted her course through the crowd, he turned away and strode into the adjacent conference room.

  “Coward,” she hissed. Checking to make sure her shimmering tunic blouse hung right, she worked her snug designer jeans and too-hot-to-handle boots across the carpet, planning the best way to bring the jerk to his knees.

  “Ah, there she is!”

  Angelika entered, and her eyes snapped to the stage set up for karaoke. Viktor stood grinning maliciously and holding two mics.

  “Annie’s here, so we can begin the duet of all ages.”

  Catcalls and laughter drowned out her spluttering cough, and all eyes in the room turned to her.

  “Hey, Angelika. Ready to sing with Viktor?” teased one of the guys from her old biology class.

  “Sing?” Her heart stopped, relocated itself into her throat, and then resumed beating at double speed.

  “I’ve picked out the perfect song for us, Annie.” Viktor’s smarmy act rivaled the worst lounge singer parodies she’d ever seen.

  “I don’t sing, idiot,” she barked.

  Chuckles and challenging oohs filled the room.

  Viktor made a show of cupping his hand to his ear. “I’m sorry, what? You can’t sing?”

  Angelika’s lids dropped, and her lower lip climbed up to swallow its partner. The stupid, stupid, stupid jerk. “I said don’t.” But he was right. Can’t was more accurate. He’d learned that sophomore year during a pep assembly game show when she got a question requiring her to sing the jingle from a famous car commercial. It had been one of the most humiliating moments of her teen years.

  “Aw, just this once. For old time’s sake.” He held out a mic in her direction, and the sea of faces parted.

  Drawn by the power of his competitive hold on her, she marched forward to the chants of “An-nie! An-nie!”

  Ripping the mic from his hand, she addressed the crowd, “It’s Angelika, people. Come on!”

  “No, no. For tonight, you’re Annie.” The wicked gleam in Viktor’s eye unnerved her, and she watched with furrowed brows as he cued the music.

  As soon as the display started, she groaned and smacked her face, much to the amusement of the audience. “Annie, Get Your Gun? Seriously?”

  Viktor gave her a smug nod. “I’ll start, to show you how it’s done.” He grinned at the audience and began a depressingly solid rendition of “Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better”.

  Angelika shook her head in disbelief at her luck, but dutifully spoke the belligerent lines denouncing him. “No, you can’t! No, you can’t!” However, as they moved from the chorus to the challenges listed, she got an idea. Why sing when she could keep talking?

  A rap battle. Ha! She had him now. Rocking her hip into full sass mode, she channeled the crazy lady who busted rhymes in the shower when no one but Chucho the three-legged cat was listening. To the rhythm of the original lyrics, she beat, “You can take your dumb song all the way to Hong Kong. I will stay and rock out now that I’m a knockout. You can kiss your ego ‘bye, ‘cause now I’m like—let’s drop the mic!” And she did. On his foot.

  The monitors screeched with feedback, and Viktor fumbled to retrieve the mic while she sauntered back off the stage to hooting applause. When she glanced back, he was still on his knees, staring after her with open-mouthed shock.

  Viktor – a few minutes later

  Multiple thoughts assailed Viktor at once. (1) Angelika Aldrich made him look like a complete idiot in front of everyone; (2) She still made his blood boil; (3) Her long hair looked awesome on her. (4) He could never ever ever, in a million years, admit that to anyone.

  “I’m sorry to say, man, but she just owned you.” Dev’s chocolate skin almost purpled with laughter. “Come hide before people throw stuff at you.”

  “You should’ve seen your face,” said Lars, following Viktor and Dev out a side door.

  “What? I kept my cool onstage,” said Viktor.

  “Uh, not after she left it.” Lars mimicked him. “You were down on your knees. Your eyes were begging her please—”

  Viktor snickered. “Don’t you try to rap, too.”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I think there’s some chemistry going on between you two. I asked around,” said Dev, adding in a sing-song voice, “She’s available.”

  “Definite chemistry,” agreed Lars.

  “Right. Like to make a bomb go off.” Viktor ran his hands through his hair, trying to hide his searching eyes. Where was she?

  “What was that about bombing out?”

  Viktor spun on his heels, almost toppling into the wall. There stood Angelika, her stunning blue eyes piercing him with the glimmer of triumph. He stood taller and gave her his most aloof nod. “Not bad, Annie.” That wasn’t what he meant to say. He needed a snappy comeback.

  “You want to try a different kind of duet now?” teased Lars. “We can leave you two alone.”

  Angelika rolled her eyes. “Lars, seriously. Grow up.” She waved a hand in Viktor’s general direction. “Besides, no woman would ever want this self-absorbed jerk.”

  Dev slapped Viktor’s back. “How can you talk like that? My man Viktor is the most eligible bachelor in the country.”

&nb
sp; “If he’s so awesome, why is he still a bachelor?”

  Viktor needed to regain control. “What about you? I don’t see a husband in tow. Couldn’t find any sharks or orangutans who would have you?”

  She bristled visibly. “Is orangutan your best effort to tease my red hair, or have you finally admitted you’re a less-evolved primate?” quipped Angelika.

  Dev and Lars gasped and tried to stifle their laughter.

  Where was a blow torch when Viktor needed to burn this brat of a woman?

  Woman.

  He’d give her that.

  Distracted, he dropped his brow. “Trash talk won’t hide the truth, Annie. You’re not married either.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I asked around.” He winced. Why had he admitted that?

  Lars rubbed his hands together. “I smell a competition. A race.”

  Viktor scowled. “What?”

  “See which of the two of you gets married first—or engaged, or something.”

  Viktor was about to protest until he saw dread flicker across Angelika’s face. If she didn’t want that challenge, he’d have to throw down the gauntlet. “Yeah, I like it.” He nodded with a wicked grin. “First one of us to find our soulmate and set a date.”

  Angelika’s mouth pursed in obvious frustration. “No fair. You just have to go search under the nearest rock.”

  He threw up his hands. “That’s it, boys. She’s afraid.” Good. They could move on to another topic and get away from Angelika.

  “No, no. I’ll take the wager,” she said. “You might be able to find a worm you find attractive, but she still has to say yes, and brainless or not, those squirmers can be discerning.”

  Viktor barked a laugh. “You’re wrong. Worms do have brains.”

  “Oh, then you don’t stand a chance after all.”

  Seething, Viktor glared at her. How could she stay so cool and collected standing there by herself when he had his wingmen? And why did she always have to have such high-scoring insults?

  “Okay, Annie. What’s the wager?”

  “First one to get engaged has to…” Her lips puckered in thought.