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Jake may have quit for now, but I have no doubt big brother will butt in again. I’ll just be thankful that he’s done for now.
Between the two of us, we grab all the drinks and head back to the table.
I’m about ten feet away when I realize someone is sitting beside Liz. He’s taken my seat. I can only see the back of his head. He has short, dark brown hair and is wearing a black tux. It’s only as I get closer that I hear his voice, and recognition hits me.
Oh, hell to the mother-fucking-no. What the hell is he doing here?
“Who invited you here?” I demand.
“Ethan!” Liz says, disapproval in her voice.
Trent swivels around. “Ah, Mr. Anders. I was just asking Liz if you were attending tonight. So nice to see you again.” He gets up from the chair in one smooth motion and holds out his hand.
Liz is watching me, her eyes warning me to behave.
I reluctantly shake his hand, never taking my eyes off his. “I didn’t realize you’d be here tonight. I thought only the most influential families would be in attendance. How’d you score an invitation?” I’m careful to keep my voice even and inflect maybe just a hint of arrogance in my demeanor.
Trent’s calculating smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’d be surprised at just how much influence I have.”
I catch the meaning of his words clearly. He’s taunting me. He’s letting me know that he has influence over Liz. That she listens to him. He’s trying so hard to piss me off while appearing to be the nice guy.
“I just wouldn’t expect that supporting a women’s shelter would be a cause you’d gravitate towards.” I cross my arms and look at him coldly.
“One just never knows what causes a person may find important. By the way, my apologies for taking your seat. I’m sure you want to sit next to your girlfriend.” He motions to the seat but then pauses and snaps his fingers. “Oh, wait. She’s not your girlfriend, is she? That’s right.”
This fucker wants a dick fight. Is that it?
I take a step closer to him. “She’s not yours either.”
Liz jumps up, attempting to break the tension. She puts her hand on Trent’s shoulder. “I promised you a dance. Come on. Let’s go.”
I watch as she leads Trent hand in hand out onto the dance floor.
Jake chuckles behind me. “Well, thanks for the entertainment. What’re you doing for the encore?”
“I hate that guy,” I say with all the feeling I can muster.
Jake puts his hand on my shoulder. “You hid it well. We couldn’t tell at all.”
“You’re a sarcastic bastard.”
Even though I’m talking to Jake, my unblinking attention is fixed on the dance floor. The band is playing, and Trent has one hand on Liz’s waist and the other holding her hand as they sway together to the music. He leans in and whispers something close to her ear, and she laughs, her face lighting up. He grins back at her in return and then leans in again.
He twirls her outward, then brings her back in and hugs her tightly to him.
I wonder, at what temperature does blood boil? Mine is there. I can feel the tightness in my body.
It’s not jealousy. I just can’t stand him. I can’t stand how he’s looking at Liz like he wants to devour her. I want to use my fist to wipe that smug look off his weasel-eyed face.
Just when I feel like I can’t take much more, the music begins to fade, and then the song ends. They begin to walk off the dance floor just as a new song starts.
Before they get more than a couple of steps, Trent pulls her back toward him. I see her shake her head. He says something and smiles and gestures to the dance floor with a flick of his chin.
Lana comes up to me. “You can’t say anything, Ethan. Just have a seat at the table and look away.”
“He better keep his hands to himself,” I threaten.
“He’s not doing anything. They’re just dancing.” Lana touches my arm. “You need to think about why you’re feeling this way.”
