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Again, a more unlikely string of words I could not imagine.
Neither, apparently can Paul, because for once the man is speechless.
In fact, the only person who looks perfectly unperturbed, as if this were all a part of his master plan, is Rhett. He grins that million-dollar smile, slips his hands into his pockets and says, “I would love to talk more, Bill.”
Bill sits in the seat beside Rhett, ignoring the place card that puts him next to Paul. Rhett sits as well, without urgency and pointedly ignoring Miranda and the security guards.
I don’t allow myself a taunting smile after Miranda as she melts into the background to go deal with the Waltons, but I do permit a sigh of relief. Miracle beyond miracles, we actually pulled it off. I could kiss Rhett.
Not literally, of course.
Definitely not.
I drag my eyes away from Rhett’s lips, full and perfectly curved, and toward Selina and Colton, both of whom look slightly unnerved.
“What the actual hell was that?” Selina asks. She doesn’t sound upset; actually she sounds a bit excited. “They were about to fireman-carry you out of here, and from the look on your face, you weren’t gonna go without a fight.”
“It’s a long story,” I say. “And a rather delicate one,” I add to excuse my evasiveness.
I glance at Paul, hoping he doesn’t add anything inflammatory. He’s being talked at by Marmie and pointedly ignoring me. Sadly, I don’t think it’ll last.
Selina is able to take the hint and moves the conversation on to other ground. I listen, asking the appropriate questions about the house the two of them are building, but all the while I’m aware of the one glaring absence at our table.
Where is Marie Alencar? She’s my main target. If Marie doesn’t show up at all, then all this effort was for nothing.
No, I correct myself. Not entirely for nothing. Rhett has somehow gotten an opening with Bill, and while being too friendly with Bill may end up hindering us in the long run, it can’t hurt in the short term.
I sit on pins and needles for twenty minutes. It’s almost seven o’clock, when the food is supposed to be served, when my fears are quenched and Marie appears.
Marie is rather unassuming for a billionaire mogul. She’s short and sturdy with a round face accented by a severe haircut and the sense of limitless energy contained by deliberate movements. She’s dressed well, her hair and makeup done professionally, but I get the immediate impression that she would look more natural, and happier, in a sweater and jeans.
Bill, still talking about Night of the Comet, stops in mid-sentence at the sight of her, almost as if he’s embarrassed. He stands and pulls her chair out, giving her a peck on the cheek which she doesn’t shy away from. Still, despite their body language, there’s a slightly pained look in both their eyes and they move past the moment too quickly for it to feel truly genuine.
Marie’s appearance gives Rhett a break from what sounded like a very in-depth discussion of the 1980’s most terrible movies. He turns to me, his expression unreadable.
“You showed up,” I say.
Rhett shrugs. “I wanted to see the fireworks.”
“Well I have to admit you have impeccable timing.”
Rhett’s lips curl into a teasing smile. “How upset would you be to learn that I watched for a minute before interfering?”
Of course he did. But riding the high of our latest victory, I can’t be upset with him. “Oh, then you know I had it handled.”
“Did you now? I should have let it play out. It would have been very funny to watch those guys carry you out of here.” He’s pretending to be serious, but there’s no disguising the mirth lurking just beneath his rumbly tone.
I toss my hair. “Something tells me you wouldn’t have let them,” I say daringly.
Rhett’s eyes narrow. “And why’s that?”
I match his gaze. “Jealousy.”
Rhett doesn’t stumble. “Not of the harassment suits you would have flung their way.”
“Okay, I don’t fling harassment suits. At least not to guys who don’t deserve them.”
“And I do?”
