Page 20 of Twisted Knight

“Wanting to lavish the praise so soon?” Holden quirks an eyebrow.

“I’ll stay,” Rhett says.

“You’ll go,” Holden says without any room for interpretation. He’s in charge now regardless of the title or company attached to my brother’s last name.

Rhett looks at Holden and then at me. Does he really think I’ll have his back right now after he just stabbed the knife in mine?

More furtive glances are given as the remainder of the people leave the room. Their uneasiness and anxiety permeate the air as they do. Rhett moves cautiously, stopping at the door and hesitating a moment, before walking through and shutting it.

The minute the door is closed, I walk around the table and stand right in front of Holden.

“So this was your game all along? Weasel your way into a Westmore function. Make yourself seen, your name known … and then get information out of me?”

“Weasel? I wouldn’t say it was that difficult.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine?”

“You could have told me why you were there.”

“And you could’ve kept your mouth shut. Or left me alone with my scotch on the balcony like I asked you to numerous times. You stayed. You talked. You shared.” He shrugs with indifference. “How was I to know that a VP of the company I was looking to buy was going to be at the auction? I’m good, Rowan, but I’m not that good.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Believe what you want.”

I hate him. I hate this good-looking prick that apparently blew so much smoke up Rhett’s ass he couldn’t see through the haze.

But I fucking can.

“Why didn’t you tell me your intentions?”

“And ruin the surprise?” He chuckles. “I rather enjoyed seeing your reaction. A bit dramatic but memorable nonetheless.”

“You enjoy this, don’t you? The flair. The making an entrance. The shock value.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Sunshine. The outcome would have been the same regardless of if we’d met or not. The only difference is I walked into this knowing you are not particularly fond of your brother.”

There’s a warning somewhere in his statement, but I can’t quite figure out what it is in the moment because my mind is clouded knowing that he’s right. One hundred percent right.

“Why us? Why TinSpirits?”

Holden purses his lips, and our stares hold as he leans back in his chair. “For one, their spokesperson is irresistible.” The muscle pulses in his jaw but his eyes wait for a reaction from me that I don’t give. “And two, I like learning new things. I like turning things upside down and challenging myself to put them back together while improving them.”

“We make alcohol.”

“I’m more than aware.”

“Signature spirits, canned cocktails, microbrews. Do you have any experience in our industry?”

“I don’t need to know your industry to be successful.”

“So, what? You think you can walk in here with your good looks and blank checkbook and things will happen?”

“Ah, she does think I’m good-looking.” His smile deepens. “Thank you. I thought your hatred for me might have dulled my shine. Good to see it hasn’t. For the record, failure is never an option in my ventures. Especially this one.”

The way he says that phrase, so resolute, so final, gives me pause. “What’s your end game?” I cut to the chase.