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That at least gets him to sit down and stop flapping his arms like a fucking cockatoo.
“Now.” I pretend to carefully examine the photos as if they hold any information I don’t already know. “Here’s the thing to consider: they already had a case against you. Without me. They said as much during our first meeting.”
I’m not going to call this a flat-out lie. Was there a first meeting? Yes.
Was it the one in these photos? No.
Did they mention anything about investigating Brennan? Also no.
But does investigating me also involve looking into him? Fuck if I know, but it would stand to reason.
“You’re going to help me.” His face reddens with every passing second. “You’re going to get me out of this.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll expose you. You and your little company. If I go down, rest assured I’m taking you down with me.”
Despite the headache, I have to laugh. “That’s funny, you know. That’s genuinely very funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I lean in. “It’s hilarious to me that you think you have anything on me or my corporation. I’d love to know exactly what you plan to ‘expose’ that I haven’t already shown the feds myself.”
Brennan sputters for a hot second, his eyes darting around the room like he’s looking for hints.
He’s got nothing—and we both know it.
“Do you need some coffee? I know I do.” I push myself off the chair and walk across the room to the machine. “Maybe a little caffeine will jog your memory.”
He’s thoroughly confused. Good.
“As you apparently do not recall,” I continue, “I’m the one who has dirt on you. Not the other way around. In fact, I have so much dirt on you, I could bury you alive myself and just take a paycheck from the feds for doing them the favor.”
“You’ve got nothing.”
“Oh?” I watch the coffee stream into my cup and can’t help but smile. “So I don’t know about the ménage à trois you had just last night? That little Brazilian pair at the casino hotel?”
Silence fills the room. The only sound between us is the bubbling of the coffee machine.
Finally.
Thank. Fucking. God.
“You should see the resolution on those new cameras they just installed. Pixel-perfect, and sharp enough to read the fine print on the receipts.” I grab my mug and take a sip. “Or, in this case, to let the authorities identify those two missing girls so they can bring them home.”
That gut punches him awake. “The what? No. I don’t know—you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but I do.” I lean against the counter and regard him. “See, you have a very bad habit, Senator. You love throwing taxpayer dollars at escorts—so much, in fact, that you don’t take the time to research where you’re getting them from.”
He may have been beet red with fury a few moments ago.
But right now? He’s as pale as a ghost.
This whole time, I’ve been trying to figure out if he’s wearing a wire. I wouldn’t put it past him to make a deal with the feds to try and entrap me by storming in here, putting up a front, blah blah fucking blah. It’s part of the reason why I keep dancing around his accusations.
The other reason is, I’m tired of him trying to yank my chain and capitulate between signing the damn contract, not signing, meeting, not meeting…
If he wants to play games, I’ll play them.
