Femme Fatale

3 - Asthon McDillan

— Fifty Shades of Grey is completely illusory. I mean, the girl is in her early twenties, a virgin, and gives an A-grade blowjob? Either she's done it before or she spends her life watching porn movies," Arabella declares as she rummages through the decorative cabinets in the dining room. She is on the phone again, ignoring the fact that we are all having lunch and staring at her. Eleanor stares at her curiously and discontentedly, analyzing Arabella's outfit. Denim shorts—doesn't she feel cold?—and a blouse that reveals her beautiful belly button piercing.

I was right about the piercings, after all. It didn't help much.

"Hey, girl!" Eleanor tries to get her attention.

"Exactly. For God's sake, Anastasia is so sweet. Explain to me in what world someone at twenty-one is still innocent? And on top of that, the girl waits until twenty-one and instead of losing her virginity to her nice best friend, she fucks the sadistic CEO on the first date," she continues, deliberately ignoring Eleanor.

"I'm talking to you!" Eleanor growls in a louder tone.

"What time are you arriving? I'll send Audrey to pick you up, be here at eight," Arabella continues to firmly ignore her, as if Calder were nothing more than an annoying little fly. Eleanor seems genuinely pissed off and upset when she stands up and nudges Arabella.

"Are you deaf or something?"

Arabella sarcastically responds to the person on the phone.

"Wait a minute, Ashton, there's someone poking me even though I'm clearly ignoring them," she finishes the sentence with a fake smile to Eleanor, who widens her eyes, even more indignant. "Alright, now I suggest you stop touching me before I rip your finger off," Eleanor removes her finger and looks at Arabella angrily.

"Who are you?"

"Why do you want to know?" Arabella asks disdainfully.

"Probably because there's a girl dressed like that," she looks at Arabella's magnificent body with disgust. It should be a sin to despise something so sculptural. "In my fiancé's house," she adds, almost rubbing her ring in Arabella's face, who stares at her with her usual indifference.

"Arabella Barberini, Liam's cousin. What's your name again?" Barberini? Is that just a random name or is it your real name? I bet on the first option.

"Eleanor Calder, Louis' fiancée," she replies with a smug smile.

Arabella raises an eyebrow and laughs without humor.

"Is this all fear that I'll fuck with your little fiancé? Don't worry, Calder, none of them are my type."

Eleanor opens her mouth in shock, apparently not expecting that response. She tries to recover, as if no one noticed her moment of embarrassment.

"Louis is every woman's type! Handsome, intelligent, funny, charitable, kind, and..."

"Boring," Arabella interrupts, rolling her eyes. "It's all so dull," she pretends to yawn. "You know, none of them are my type precisely because of that. That kindness," she says the last word with disgust and contempt. "It's boring. I bet you only have vanilla sex," she says with a half-smile, challenging Eleanor, who blushes violently.

"Why are you so interested in our sex life?" Louis finally comes to the defense of his fiancée. I don't know why, but I have the slight impression that he was enjoying the debate between the two of them as much as I was.

Arabella makes a disgusted face.

"I'm not interested. Not at all. It was just a guess. That seems to have hit the mark," she looks sideways at Eleanor, who is not far from exploding with embarrassment at any moment. "And since I'm not a sexologist or a love counselor, this is the moment when you guys stop bothering me with unfounded jealousy," she adds as she heads towards the kitchen.