@georgeharrisonbeatle || cont. from x
Unbelievable. He could just sit there, the pure face of nonchalance, and still dare to treat her like an idiot. Still, he knew what he did. His response only fueled her anger further – that he thought for even a second that she was going to buy that blatant, lazy lie. The malice in his attitude just wasn’t sufficient. He had to talk down to her like she was a child. She was staring at him, wide-eyed and barely blinking, with her jaw tensely clenched, exhaling her fury in heavy breaths. I married an asshole, Pattie thought in silence. Perhaps this kind of response was his payback for her having left the party earlier and without telling him, but what he did not know was that his little scheming had cost her the most embarrassing encounter with the woman who edited the French Vogue. That Pattie was left dumbfounded and confused when she asked her why she hadn’t answered her invitation and missed the deadline. An invitation that she had never gotten in the first place. How idiotic of him to think that she wouldn’t recognize his voice, his accent, and then later tell Pattie that she had left a message with her husband over the phone. That’s how little he thought her work was worth. He didn’t even think that they would care enough to ask. It was humiliating.She had rejected virtually every job they offered her just to wait at home to hear his complaints about Paul bitching about something in the studio and George was still unsatisfied. He had to go and do that. ‘Well, sweetheart’, Pattie spoke, her voice as sweet as it was poisonous, condensing her rage in the aggressive manner that she yanked off her earrings, and then her shoes. ‘The joke is on you, after all, because they still want me for the cover next month’, she said, fuming. Abruptly, Pattie stood, carrying her shoes in one hand as she distanced herself from him. ‘And all you have done with your little tricks is show me that you are capable of sabotaging me. I suppose congratulations are due.’
