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“That you’re a pretty little predator. He told me not to invite you because he said Gazelle, she’ll sneak up on you. She’s as sharp as her husband. Foxes in the hen house who will take that hen out from under your nose and bite you on the way out. Of course I had to meet you after he said that!”
A pretty little predator was a nice thing to be. “Tell him that’s one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever received. And if he didn’t mean it as one, I don’t care.”
If I was going to torch Sterling’s business relationship with Ronald, let it not be said it didn’t go down in glorious flames with me at the helm heading right for a mountain. Or at a small town full of horrible people like Cherise and Hunter.
Gazelle laughed again, bright and clear, and clinked her glass against mine as if Hunter and Cherise were not there at all, nor had I just insulted their (and presumably, Gazelle’s) marriages. “So really? No allowance?”
“I’m not six years old.”
Hunter and Cherise glared at me.
Gazelle’s smile didn’t waver. “Well, it’s a little different for you. You help Sterling with his business. All numbers you are, Ronald told me.”
“I like knowing where my food comes from,” I said dryly.
Gazelle’s eyes went wide and bright, but twinkled with wicked intelligence at the same time as her sparkle seemed to crystalize into something sharp and real, instead of a harmless mist. “Ronald doesn’t believe you and Sterling just met. Come on, Winter. Dish. How long have you known him, really?”
“Seven weeks, give or take.” It was all a blur at this point, and felt like it had been forever and just happened.
“Bull,” Gazelle said with an easy, sly smile. “What’s the big secret? His folks not approve of you? Had to warm up to it?”
A movement beyond Cherise’s shoulder caught my eye.
FryerVats and Companion melted back out of the crowds. FryerVats walked right up to the glass, opened his mouth wide, gaze pinned to mine, and breathed out. His breath fogged the glass.
“Don’t stare,” Hunter hissed at me. “God, ignore them, you idiot! They’re just here to gawk at Gazelle. Security will move them along.”
“The Gazelle spottings started an hour ago.” Cherise rolled her eyes sympathetically at the model. “Already on social media. No surprise the vermin showed up.”
FryerVats grinned and used a filthy finger to draw two shapes on the glass: a W and a heart.
My blood rushed from my face like it wanted to escape out of my shoes.
“They’re after you?” Cherise exclaimed. Hunter almost spit out her drink.
I tried to think of something to say or formulate a response. My brain refused to comply. The arrival of our salads hit harder than lettuce had any right to.
The W and heart lingered in an oily smear.
“Do you know that trash?” Cherise asked me with laughter edging her voice.
“More like how long has she known that trash,” Hunter simpered at Cherise.
They exchanged little mmphs and Cherise delicately stirred her drink.
I stared at my salad. I didn’t remember ordering.
Gazelle put her fingers on my wrist. “Hey, do you know those guys?”
I jumped away from her touch. I fished an ice cube out of my drink, not caring if that was tacky, and crunched it while waiting for the quivering to pass. “Not really. He spotted me my first day in the city, and he’s been stalking me ever since. I don’t know who he is or what he wants.”
Cherise’s brows raised, and Hunter gave me a peculiar, skeptical look.
Gazelle said, with genuine sympathy, “There are a lot of crazies out there. The good news is most of them don’t want trouble, they just want money.”
I focused on her. “We’ve never gotten a ransom demand. Why’d that one show up here? The paparazzi are here.”
Gazelle reached out and squeezed my wrist again before beckoning the waiter for another drink. “To scare you and soften you up so you’ll pay whatever they want. Or to get their picture next to your name.”
