He seemed to realize for the first time that he was in some deep shit.   

"Scarlett!" Tiffany called out cheerfully, still sitting at their table.  "So happy you could join us!"

Us.  The sting of that would linger.

Don't let her see how she affects you, I told myself. 

Don't let her see how he weakens you.  Don't give her anything. 

Nothing had changed between Tiffany and me.  I still saw her as the enemy.  Time and distance hadn't altered that, though this was the first time I'd caught her infringing on my territory while I was away. 

Twice she'd come to visit while I was still living with Dante.  I wondered with no small amount of furious dread just how often she came to visit now that I was gone. 

"Tiffany," I said without an ounce of friendliness.  "What are you up to?" 

"Oh, you know how it is.  Still attending Barnard.  Family tradition and all that, but at least I'm almost finished.  Soon I'll be able to visit as often as I please."

Comforting that.

"But enough about me.  What have you been up to?  Still waitressing?" 

I looked at Dante.  I didn't have to say a word.  My face said it all. 

"I was here studying," he told me, tone careful.  "She found me here a few hours ago.  I didn't know she was coming to town."

"Does she visit you like this often?"  I asked, voice sharp, my wide smile sharper.  It was a grin meant to dazzle.  And cut.  It captures the eye and blinds it.

"Never," he said succinctly, fervently, with the intent of a man set on avoiding disaster.  "Not since you left."   

I looked at Tiffany. 

"Oh yeah," she waved her hand in the air.  "Whatever he says." 

I knew she was trying to goad me, trying to make me think Dante was lying to me.  I knew that and it didn't surprise me.  It was very typical Tiffany.  What I found interesting was Dante's reaction to her words. 

He started, staring at her like he was finally starting to fucking get it. 

Yeah, you ass, I wanted to say.  That's who she is.  An instigating piece of work just like your mother. 

But even with the inner tirade, his reaction was gratifying enough to act as a last ditch effort at averting the fallout that I felt building up in my chest like a scream that just had to escape.

I hated that she was here.  Hated it.  But maybe it would serve some purpose, if it helped Dante see just what she was. 

With that thought in mind, I pulled up a chair.  "So what are you doing here, Tiffany?" I asked her bluntly, my tone as unfriendly as I felt.

She feigned surprise at my hostile manner.  "Oh my.  Is something the matter, Scarlett?  You seem upset."  She smiled. 

And just like that.  There it was again.  Hello, temper.

"What could possibly be wrong?" I asked her, heavy on the sarcasm.  My eyes swung to Dante, who'd just taken the seat across from me.  "Whatever could be the matter?" I asked him mockingly. 

He folded his arms across his chest, jaw clenching, eyes hard on me.  I could tell that his own hellish temper was ready to come out and play. 

"Again," I said bitingly, "why are you here, Tiffany?" 

She pursed her lips and answered, "Just visiting my friend.  Is that a crime?  He doesn't mind when I visit.  And who made you his boss?  He's not your property, Scarlett."

I smiled at her, bringing up my ring hand to tap a finger at my jaw, making sure the huge as hell rock on my finger was given proper notice.  She saw it, oh yes.  Her eyes widened, and for a second she couldn't hide an honest look of dismay.

My smile grew even as I heard Dante let loose with a soft round of cursing. 

"Funny you should mention property," I said.  Yeah, I was being a bitch. 

She needed to be put in her place.

Bitch was about the right speed for that.   

She'd gone pale.  She looked like she might become ill.  "When did that happen?" she asked, nearly spitting out the words.

I didn't even try to touch that one.

"Aren't you going to congratulate us?" I countered with instead.

She didn't bother.  The engagement bombshell had been enough to knock her off kilter.  It was refreshing to see her usually serene facade slip so completely. 

I hoped, quite wholeheartedly, that Dante was taking note.  

"It doesn't matter," Tiffany said derisively.  "You still don't own him." 

"It doesn't make you happy," I said with relish.  "But it matters.  And yes, I fucking do." 

Her reaction was interesting and if I was being spiteful (newsflash: I was), amusing as hell.

She got up and practically ran from the place, fleeing without giving me so much as a backward glance.  

I was still wearing a triumphant grin when I caught the look on Dante's face.  

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" he asked, looking beyond pissed and into desperately furious.  "My mother will know about that ring within the hour.  Do you even understand the kind of hell she's going to raise for this?"

"My God," I said slowly, tone as disbelieving as I felt.  "You're turning this on me?  Somehow you're going to get out of having to explain the fact that I found you at a bar with fucking Tiffany!"