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Sure.
“A drink for the lady?” the waiter offered, pulling out a small notepad.
I nodded. “Vodka.”
He raised his brow. “Um… mixed with?”
“Straight,” I said sharply, looking out of the corner of my eye and taking pleasure in the way Peter’s nose crinkled at my order.
The waiter rushed off, and I placed my handbag on the table before taking a seat beside him, silently thankful that the table was large enough for there to be quite a space between us.
He slowly sunk back into his chair and once again picked up his glass. “You look lovely,” he complimented. “Couldn’t have ordered something a little less brash?”
“I’m going to need it to put up with my parents…”and you, I added silently.
He swirled the wine in his glass, much like a connoisseur would do when tasting different varieties. “You’re being a little dramatic, Annabelle.”
I didn’t express my distaste for the use of my given name.
Optimus had given me the name Sugar on the first night we’d met, and it had stuck like glue with all his brothers and friends of the club instantly picking up on the nickname. I was almost confident most of them didn’t even know what my real name was.
Annabelle.
So formal, so distinct, and proper with the way it was pronounced.
I hadn’t disliked it back then, but after over five years of calling myself Sugar, it seemed almost like when Peter used it, that he was speaking to someone else.
I guess in a way he was.
He didn’t know the person that I was now, he didn’t know how I’d grown.
He didn’t know me. And for now, that’s how I wanted it to stay.
Just being in his presence disgusted me, made me want to hurl all over the pristine white tablecloth in front of me. I knew I couldn’t hide the way I cringed when he was close, my body’s automatic reaction to him was to cower, that’s how it had been for a long time. And even though I wanted to be strong, for now, it was best that he felt like he was in control, and that I was weak.
I ignored his comment and placed my heavy bag on the table, snatching out the DNA records to show him. “Here… I’m pretty sure I don’t need to explain these to you, do I?”
He took them from my hand, casually letting his eyes glance over them, showing no emotions. “I see,” he finally said after a few minutes. “May I keep these?”
I frowned. “I guess so. Just know I have copies, as do the place where the DNA was tested and also our private doctor. Oh… and a lawyer.” I wasn’t about to let him think he could do something with them untoward without me having proof in several different places.
He chuckled. “Noted.”
The waiter appeared then and placed my drink down in front of me, before taking a step back he said, “Mr. and Mrs. Sulivan rang to let you know that something has come up, and they won’t be attending dinner tonight.”
I caught the small smirk on Peter’s lips as he took another sip of his wine.
Fucking asshole.
When we were alone again, I hissed at him under my breath. “You knew they weren’t coming, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “There something wrong with me having dinner alone with my wife? They were quite excited about the prospect when I mentioned it earlier today, and offered to let us have our time together.”
I pulled my handbag onto my lap. “Well, you can enjoy some time alone.” As I went to stand he tsked his tongue at me disappointingly.
“Bryce Lawson… I bet he has a criminal record, doesn’t he?”
I froze as I heard him use Optimus’ real name. A name I’d just handed to him on the piece of paper he had tucked in his pocket. My blood began boiling with anger. “This isn’t about Harlyn at all, is it? You already knew she wasn’t yours.”
