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Pierce thinks he’s being sly when he checks out my glass. He smirks when he sees it’s no longer full. He doesn’t notice that his is.
“Cheers.” I raise the glass. “Let’s toast to a clean, well fought campaign season.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Pierce takes a long pull at his drink and watches me tilt the glass to my lips.
Then I set it down without swallowing any.
A wrinkle etches into his forehead.
I tap my fingers on the sticky bar top. “By the way, what exactly was your plan?”
He lifts a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“Your plan, dipshit. Are you just a regulation pervert or did you think you were going to get some footage to use against my father?”
He flinches, ever so slightly. But still comes up with a smooth denial. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.”
“It means you just drank whatever garbage you tried to feed to me.”
That sure makes his eyes flare.
He looks at ‘his’ drink.
Looks back at me.
A weird sound squeaks out of his throat.
“Pierce, you look like you might be feeling sick. Or it just a wave of dizziness? Sorry, but I can’t relate. I’ve never been drugged before.”
As his jaw goes slack I feel a wave of grim victory. Until I look at my phone.
Shit.
Epic fail. This conversation has not been recorded.
But there’s no need to enlighten him. Let him think I’m holding all the cards.
Sliding my phone into my palm, I face the scumbag who has recovered from his initial shock. His face now contorts with fury. I’m glad I’m not alone in a room with him.
His eyes dart back and forth. Beads of sweat pop out on his brow. “What the fuck did you do?”
I raise my chin and stare him down. “Nothing as bad as what you were going to do. Who was that man you were talking to? It’s doubtful you have any friends here. He must have a role in tonight’s mission.”
His smile is tight and lethal. “You’ve lost your mind, Tess. Perhaps the influence of your dear departed stepmother shoved you over the edge. Or maybe it’s closer to the bloodline. I hear your own mother wasn’t exactly of sound mind either.”
I’m used to dodging arrows on the Olivia front but I’m caught off guard by the remark about my mother. I have no memory of her. She drowned in a friend’s backyard pool when I was an infant.
Keeping my emotions in check is an enduring skill, acquired at a young age. My father’s old lessons echo in my head.
“Self-control, Tessie Belle. Never let them see what gets to you. It’s like handing over a loaded weapon to the enemy.”
“I have a suggestion. Let’s allow the court of public opinion to decide who the villain is. You tell your side of the story. I’ll tell mine.”
The sweat on his forehead glistens. He covers his discomfort with the same smile he uses for each of his fake moods.
“You’re out of your depth, kid. Your father counts on the pity factor and uses you to get it.”
I lean in closer to make my point. “You don’t scare me, Pierce. But I’m pretty sure right now I’m scaring you.”
