UNMASKED [The sequel to LOVELORN]

Unmasked- The Player

*Here's Chapter 2 for you. Happy reading ! ;-))

                       Chapter 2:- The Player

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          Jennifer moved behind a rack of kitchen appliances. She watched Devon walk up smoothly to a pretty girl in figure hugging clothes and strike up a conversation with her. Within minutes they were both laughing, the girl’s cheeks blushed to a deeper shade of red than was possible.

          Emily’s ghost stirred like a disturbed volcano. She gripped a box containing a toaster tightly, shooting daggers at Devon with her eyes. The sleaze-bag, she fumed.

          Devon Graybach had been dubbed as The Player and The Ladies Man by his male friends back in school. With an aquiline nose, hard square jaw and wavy blond hair, he was a veritable magnet for girls. His russet-brown eyes dripping honey, his ready wit and his gentlemanly charm added to his irresistible aura. It also helped that he was a star pitcher in the school baseball team and a probable for Kansas City Royals.

           There hadn’t been a single girl in Emily’s memory with whom he hadn’t flirted. There had been several rumours about his link-ups with an enviable line of girls, but none had actually been proven. But his partiality towards Rachel McDonalds had been well-known.

           There was ample display of that alluring charm that Devon worked up when in the company of the opposite sex as he accompanied the girl, who was in giggling fits, around the aisles. She was asking for his advice regarding good choices for some utility items while he answered her queries and threw in a joke or two at the same time, evoking instant laughter from the girl.

           It was all so familiar to Emily’s ghost, an infuriating déjà-vu. It also reminded her of the time in the ballroom during that fateful prom night when he had openly cheated on her, played with her feelings. The thoughts brought on a rush of devilish rage.

           The girl left soon afterwards with her friends, but not before exchanging phone numbers and enticing smiles with a jubilant Devon.

           Under Emily’s direction, Jennifer stepped out from behind the rack, leaving a dented toaster package and strode to the gardening supplies section. She picked up a trowel with glinting sharp edges.

          She approached Devon slowly from behind, the trowel raised slightly. The latter was busy looking out for other cute customers.

          Standing just behind him, Jennifer cast quick glances sideways. There was nobody in the aisle.

          Your time’s up, you two-timing b****rd, she foretold.

          She brought her hand down and swung the trowel upwards in a fluid movement, aiming for his neck.

          At the same time he bent forwards to lift a brochure lying on the floor.

          She missed her mark.

          “Hi,” he flashed his brilliant white teeth at her, turning around. “How can I help you?”

          His eyes moved to the trowel clutched in Jennifer’s hand. “You’re looking for some gardening stuff? Lemme guess, Daddy Dearest put you to it, right?”

          Emily was angry that she had lost her advantage and a great opportunity to end the life of the biggest sleaze-ball in Bluecrest Heights once and for all, so that he could never break the heart of a naive girl besotted with him again.

           But his smile was infectious, and Jennifer found herself smiling back at him.

           “Yeah, dad’s doing some gardening this weekend, you know, weeding out the flower-beds and stuff. He’s busy at the mo, so he sent me along to get some equipment for him,” she replied.

           “Don’t worry, dear, when Devon’s here,” he grinned. Emily wanted to drive the trowel into his gut for his lame joke. She smiled nevertheless.

           He led her back to the proper section. “You should buy this forged cape cod weeder- made in Holland. A really handy tool for weeding.” He took the trowel that had almost killed him from her hands and passed her a pointed tool, its steel head bent at right angles to the shaft and a wooden handle. “Orrrr......,” he bent down to sort through an array of weeders and tweezers.

          Holding the weeder in her hands, Jennifer ran her finger along its shaft, feeling the cold steel and its lethal potential, over the price tag which outraged her, and checked the pointy tip. It’d make a great weapon to pierce and pluck out the eyes of cheating boyfriends, she thought. Speaking of whom.....

          She sent furtive glances around the section. It being a period of slack, there weren’t many people in the mall, and certainly none in the gardening tools section.

          Escape me once, lucky you; escape me twice, shame on me, she thought ominously.

          She glared at the blond head busy in choosing a suitable tool for her. If somebody did ask her later, she could say that he tripped and fell sideways, hitting his temple on the pointed end of the weeder that was lying in the display rack with its tip outwards.

          Mentally, she measured the distance to his right temple and raised the weeder to strike.

          “Second time unlucky for you.”

                                                      -- Deep