Page 67 of Cruel Games

I nodded.

Kendrick pushed away his soup bowl. “What will it take for you to trust me?”

I raised my head and watched Orlando whisper something to Maxwell, who turned in our direction and shook his head. They were scheming against me. Again. I knew their type. They wouldn’t ever forgive me for getting them suspended, even if I had sucked them both off.

In Richley, blackmailers and bullies always demanded something reasonable at first. An easily payable but large-enough sum to ensure that their mark would believe it to be worth paying to get the bastards off their back. And it would work for a short time. Then the blackmailer or bully would get greedy and demand more. The game would continue until the mark ran out of cash or lashed out.

I spread a dab of butter on my bread. The best way to avoid the trap was never to pay a blackmailer. Either call their bluff or strike hard enough to make them back off.

Since Orlando and Maxwell had nothing on me, I wasn’t obliged to give them attention, blowjobs, or anything else.

“Was that too difficult a question?” asked Kendrick.

Kendrick’s words snapped me out of my musings. The waitresses had already removed our bowls of minestrone and replaced them with bite-sized, folded-over pizzas. I think they were called calzone.

I turned back to him and said, “What’s that?”

“How can I convince you that I’m trustworthy?”

Picking up my mini calzone between my thumb and forefinger, I said, “You can’t.”

His handsome features pinched. “What if I swear never to help my brother or Orlando on any acts of revenge against you?”

“Not good enough.”

“And if I promise to inform you of any plans against you?”

I rolled my eyes and placed my calzone back on my plate. “Promises aren’t worth shit. People swear on the bible all the time that they’ll tell the whole truth, but that doesn’t stop them from lying. Why would I believe you wouldn’t side with your brother against me?”

His features pinched with disapproval. “I’ve wasted my time.”

“I never once said this was a relationship.”

Kendrick dipped his head. “What is it with beautiful blondes?”

I snatched a mini calzone off my plate and took a bite, barely enjoying its pepperoni taste. Gideon rushed into the room and slipped into his seat, his eyes glittering like polished ebony.

“Good evening,” he said. “What did I miss?”

“I was about to ask Lilah to accompany me to the Glaswegian Hotel restaurant after her entry to the charity auction won the highest bid,” said Kendrick.

My shoulders slumped. Hadn’t he heard a single word I had said? “Ken—”

“As friends, of course,” he added.

Gideon’s brows rose. “Did you know the Glaswegian restaurant has three Michelin stars? I’ve been trying to convince my parents to take me there for years!”

“Really?” I turned to Kendrick, who beamed. “What’s the catch?”

He raised his palms. “That you continue to be my friend.”

“You have to go,” Gideon exclaimed. “I picked up a copy of the Glasgow Gazette. Andrew Wilson is in town. The quality will be exceptional!”

If the thought of this fancy chef cooking at his three-star Michelin restaurant got Gideon this animated, it had to be the opportunity of a lifetime. I turned to Kendrick, who looked like he hadn’t breathed since he had made his invitation.

“Alright,” I said. “We can go as friends.”

Chapter 24