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A tall, warm presence appears at my side and it’s everything I can do to keep myself from leaning against Rhett in my exhaustion.
“That didn’t look pleasant,” he says.
“That would be an incredible understatement.” I look up at him. “She knows.”
He understands me immediately. “Paul told her,” he says. “Of course he did.”
“And who knows what else,” I say with a deep sigh. “She acted like we were here to kidnap her.”
“So what now?” Rhett asks.
“Now? Honestly, now I just want a drink.”
CHAPTER TEN
RHETT
Her eyes are gorgeous when she’s laughing. They turn to steel daggers when she’s angry. And when she’s concocting a scheme Liz’s eyes shimmer like falling mist.
Now I’m seeing them in a new light: depressed. Those bewitching orbs are as dark and murky as a stagnant pond.
And I’m finding that I would do just about anything to turn the lights back on again. Even sit in a bar surrounded by badly dressed tech geeks and wizened business people.
“What’ll you have?” I ask her. It’s so busy it’ll be quicker to just go to the bar for our drinks.
Liz’s head is in her hands, long hair cascading over her fingers as she massages her scalp. “Espresso martini,” she mutters.
Girl loves her coffee.
From the bartender I order a Scotch, neat, and an espresso martini. “Make both doubles,” I add, glancing back at Liz who hasn’t twitched since I left her. She deserves it after this evening, and I’m trying to enjoy as much of the finer things as I can. Monday has never felt closer.
“For the martini,” I add when the bartender comes back with my drink, “can you double process the coffee?”
He gives me an odd look, but grabs the extra twenty I offer without further comment.
Liz perks up slightly when I come back. She takes the glass in both hands and sips the light brown liquid. Her shoulders relax and a shiver runs up her body.
“Careful,” I say. “They’re doubles.”
“They’d better be,” she says. “Jesus, that’s amazing.”
“But not quite an Elizabest?” I tease.
“Better. Now that I think of it, the Elizabest would actually be greatly helped by a few shots of vodka.” For a moment, her expression almost brightens. It only takes a moment of reflection to sink her back into the depths.
“And I suppose I could get away with it now,” she says. “Why not get day drunk at the office? I doubt your mother is going to trust me with anything after this.”
I scoff, flick a few crumbs off the tablecloth. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not!” she says. “Do you know how much I’m getting paid to be here? Our time here is an investment, and Sloane Westing isn’t a woman who makes bad investments.”
“Exactly,” I counter. “That’s why I’m calling bullshit. My mother is a lot of things, most of them bad, but I can admit that when it comes to the bank she knows what she’s doing. And even though I’ve been against this trip from the start, that includes sending you here.”
“But we — I — failed,” Liz says. “Horribly. We didn’t even get to the first showcase!”
I sip my drink, studying her. Then I lean back in my chair and shrug. “Okay. You’re right. You’ve convinced me.”
Liz’s eyes narrow slightly, looking for my angle.”
