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My eyes wander the room lazily before refocusing on Liz. “Yep, you failed all right. It’s all your fault. Maybe if you were better at your job this wouldn’t have happened.”
Liz flinches back, her face caught between annoyance and suspicion. “Well, maybe if you’d helped me we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“You mean like how I kept you from getting kicked out of the dinner? Yeah I’m sure the rest of your mission would have gone swimmingly if you’d been carried out in front of Marie.”
Liz crosses her arms, her lips pouting. They’re very pink lips, slightly shiny with lip gloss. The desire to lick it off them sends a slight shiver down my back.
“Fine, you did help. But I don’t see why you’re kicking me while I’m down.”
“I’m just agreeing with you,” I say mildly. “If you were a better recruiter, I’m sure you could have figured out a way to keep Paul from telling Marie not to trust us.”
“But how?” she says. “I’ll bet he went straight to her after seeing us in the lobby. I never had a chance— oh wait.”
She sits up straight. “Are you making a point?” she accuses.
I raise an eyebrow. “Is it working?”
Liz’s perfect lips meet her martini glass and she sips slowly, stalling for time, her eyes never leaving mine.
“A little bit,” she finally admits when she can’t put me off any longer.
“And now you see what I’ve been saying since New York,” I say. “My mother has zero expectations for this weekend from you. We were never meant to succeed. It’s just her clever way of getting rid of me.”
Liz pulls a face. “And here I’m the one feeling sorry for myself.”
“Eh. It really was only a matter of time,” I say. “I’ve been a liability since she gave birth. You should have seen the letter that went out to the shareholders after my delivery.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was.” I raise my hands to the imaginary headline. “Baby boy will cause slight dip in stock for Q3. Numbers expected to rise in Q4.”
“And did they?”
I try to smile but it comes out more of a grimace. “They must have. I’m still here aren’t I?” Then I chuckle as I realize what I’ve said. “I suppose I should have stayed a baby. A lot harder to get into trouble that way.”
Silence sits heavily between us, and I start to regret my words. Usually I’m not one to submerge my partner in a sticky vat of pity.
“Sorry,” I say shortly, sipping my drink and suddenly not able to hold her eye. They drift to a corner of the room where that girl from earlier, the one with the massive fake tits, is practically sitting on the lap of a geezer in spats.
“For what?” Liz asks softly.
“I was trying to make you feel better,” I say. “Not feel bad for me.”
“Feel bad? For you?” Her ambiguous tone pulls my eyes back to hers. The grays are dancing like morning mist, teasing. Had I really been so foolish to believe that those girls are just as beautiful as Liz?
“Is that sarcasm I detect? Don’t be fooled by the suits. My life is as tragic as they come,” I say.
“But you had money,” Liz says. “God, I would have given up every part of my boring suburban, stable-parent household for a billion dollars.”
“I’ll bet your mom drove you to horseback riding lessons in a minivan.”
“Horseback riding? Pfft. All we could afford was soccer at the Y. The minivan is on point though.”
I make a disgusted face. “And your grandparents probably came to all your games.”
She rolls her eyes. “Grandpa was sooo loud. It was humiliating.”
“And then all back to the house for hot dogs off the grill?”
