Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale)(64)

“Don’t you want to know her name?” called Marty.

Verity turned around, narrowing her eyes. Marty’s tone had suddenly gotten meaner.

“Sandy,” said Daphne slowly, scanning Verity’s face for recognition and clearly relishing her big reveal. “Sandy Rucker.”

“Heard of her?” purred Marty.

Verity’s first thought was that she’d had no idea Sandy’s last name was Rucker. Her second thought didn’t have time to materialize before Beverly bellowed, “Enough chitchat! Go get those Viking hats before I tell Lynette to dock your damned pay!”

Daphne snickered, waving her fingers at Verity as she turned back toward the arena, taking Marty’s arm to pull her along. “Take care, now.”

Verity blinked at them, then turned to Beverly, a sudden fury she didn’t anticipate making her words harsher than she would have planned. “I am not your slave, and you are not my mistress! Stop barking at me!”

Beverly turned on her heel, staring daggers at Verity. “I’m your supervisor.”

“You’re the gift shop manager. I report to Lynette, just like everyone else.”

Approaching Verity with menace, Beverly scowled at her, stopping about three inches from her person. She stood in front of Verity, and despite an inclination to turn and run away, Verity lifted her chin and stared back.

“Fine,” growled Beverly. “Go get the helmets, coworker.”

“Fine,” Verity muttered, turning away and heading for the stockroom, sick to her stomach that Colton’s ex-girlfriend was back, and wondering what it meant for the very new relationship between them.

She pushed open the door to the employee hallway, staring at her feet, trying to remember everything that Colton had ever told her about Sandy. It wasn’t serious, and it didn’t last long . . . She took another job in Vegas. He certainly hadn’t gone on about her. Then again, she’d learned from the girls in the bathroom a few weeks ago that Sandy had bragged that he was “hung like King Kong.” Her heart twisted as she imagined Colton doing the same things with this Sandy as he’d done with her last night. He’d definitely slept with her, or how else would she have known about his . . . his . . .

Tears burned behind her eyes. Had he loved Sandy? Had he only stopped loving her because she moved away, and he had to stay in Atlanta to be close to Melody? Would he want to be with Sandy again now that she’d returned? By the time Verity got to the stockroom, her worries had gotten the better of her, and she was grateful to slip inside the small room for a short cry.

It would be just her luck to finally meet someone who understood about Ryan, who didn’t see her as a train wreck or a burden, who seemed to love her for exactly who she was . . . and then lose him to the woman he’d loved before her.

“Oh God,” she sighed, pressing her palm against her aching heart as she stood with her back against the stockroom door. “Please help. I can’t lose him. I can’t.”

Did Colton know that Sandy was back? By now he had to. And yet he hadn’t come to see her, to talk to her about it. What did that mean? Was he talking to Sandy now? Letting her touch him? Telling her about the brother and sister he’d have to get rid of before they could be together again? Verity’s heart bled at the thought, but her imagination was already churning. She had to see him. She had to look in his eyes to know that they were going to be okay . . . or not.

She worried her bottom lip, thinking about Beverly waiting for the Viking helmets.

Well, she can just get them her damned self, thought Verity, pushing open the stockroom door and letting it slam behind her as she beelined for the stables.

***

Colt ran his forearm over his drenched brow, looking back and forth between Shawn and Sebastian, who were also taking a break. All three men had taken off their shirts an hour ago, and they all glistened with sweat. They’d been at it for hours now, choreographing a new scene where the Viking, Gaelic, and Renaissance Knights fight to the death, but Morgan still wasn’t satisfied with the routine.

“Shawn,” said the production designer, Morgan, looking at her notes, “what if you headlocked Sebastian from behind and pushed him into Colton? That would give you ten seconds to grab the mace while Colton’s squire offered him a sword.”

Shawn looked doubtfully at Sebastian, who was a head taller than he. “Uh, not sure that would work.”

Morgan’s lips twitched with annoyance. “Okay. Colt, you headlock Sebastian. Shawn, you do a back roll and grab your sword.”

Colt shook his head. “He lost his sword three minutes ago to me.”

“Ahhh, f*ck,” said Morgan, looking up at the blaring late afternoon sun, which baked the equine practice ring. “Take ten, okay? Let me work this out. You guys get some water.”

All three muttered their assent, and Colt headed toward the stable that housed Thor, where Joe kept a small fridge of bottled water. The dim light made him blink as his boots scuffed over the straw on the cement floor. He didn’t see her at first, but suddenly there she was in front of him.

Sandy Rucker.

After two years away.

“Colt, you f*ckin’ stallion,” she purred, stepping out of the shadows.

“Sandy?” he said, squinting at her. “What are you . . . you’re back?”

“Mm-hm,” she said, stepping toward him. “My sister’s husband is sick so I’m helpin’ out for a month or two. Got my old job back. Glad to see me?”