AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Part I
Cowboys and Magnolias
Mr. Faux-lex
I watch him carefully.Like a shark, as Daphne says. The way he rolls his lowball glass between his middle finger and thumb, condensation pooling around the base. Irreverent to the ring it will leave on the varnished surface. The way his eyes drift behind us and into the crowded restaurant toward the bar. They catch on something, linger, and he shifts in his seat and clears his throat. His attention trails back to us, so he can entertain us with more of his blathering. Look how successful I am. How funny I am. How charming I am.
The entire event is so quick—the wandering look, the brief distraction, the refocusing on us—it’s less than five seconds. He thinks he’s fooling me. Thinks I don’t know what he’s doing or what he is.
Daphne is so nauseatingly starry-eyed, she has no clue at all. Man, does he have her hoodwinked.
That’s why she has me.
He picks up on my refusal to warm up to him and pauses, a challenging smile spreading across his face. For some less experienced in conceited assholes, his smile could almost be mistaken for admiration. “So, tell me about you, Scarlett,” he says and takes off his ill-fitting blazer. He’s getting comfortable. Thinking, if he does so, I’ll tolerate him a bit longer and give him a fighting chance to win me over. He even makes a show of it as he drapes it along the back of his chair. Flicks his wrist, so we don’t miss the grand finale—the knockoff Rolex.
“What were you wanting to know?” My voice is like ice.
Daphne rushes in. She senses my aversion to him, feels it in her marrow, and she’s trying to overcompensate. “She’s a fantastic reporter for the AJC. I mean, fantastic! I’m sure you’ve read some of her pieces.”
He leans into the table, resting both forearms against the woodgrain he’s been working on spoiling. Another white smile against tanned, perfectly tight skin…thanks to Botox, I’m sure, and a fantastic dentist. I almost want to ask him who did his veneers. “Let me guess. The offbeat section?”
I take a slow sip of my gin with lime, my eyes never leaving his. I narrow them for a flicker of a moment before answering, “Crime and Public Safety.”
His smile wavers a fraction. You’d have to be looking closely to catch it. His hand rakes through his slick dark strands and he recovers quickly. “Oh.”
I smirk as I set the glass down, hoping he’s connecting the dots by now—I’m one woman he won’t be able to bullshit. And have probably already done my research on him.
He’d be right.
“Well, that’s…” He clears his throat again, attempting to recover. “How long have you—"
“So, tell me about you now,” I interrupt. It’s time to cut to the chase. It’s a Friday night, been a long week, and I’d like to enjoy the rest of my drink without wanting to throw it up every five minutes.
He straightens, smooths the front of his crisp button-down and gives Daphne a confused look. He’s already rambled on for thirty minutes about himself. Was I not listening?
“No, I mean more about you,” I clarify. “The ‘more’ you haven’t told us.” I feel Daphne’s eyes on me now and I don’t have to look at her to know she’s filling with equal parts dread and disappointment. She so wanted to like him. Wanted me to like him too.
She takes a huge sip of her margarita and slightly turns away so she doesn’t have to witness what happens next.
Mr. Faux-lex leans back in his chair, crosses his arms as he assesses me. His leg bounces nervously under the table as his mask starts falling away. Because even though he’s full of heaping piles of shit, he’s not stupid. “Why don’t you do the honors, then,” he says, clipped. “Since there’s something you want to say.”
And, there it is. The sociopath he’s so good at hiding. Unless he has you wrapped around his pinky, you’re the enemy.
Daphne stills, taken aback by his sudden personality shift.
I lay a consoling hand over hers in her lap. Sorry, sweetie. “You sure you want me to?” I ask him, giving him an out if he wants it. Not that he deserves it.
His gaze turns defiant.
Have it your way…
“You’re good at pretending,” I start. “I’ll give you that. Most girls would even say you’re charming. If they don’t know you, of course.”
A muscle along his jawline flickers with irritation.
“But I’m not most girls. Even if I hadn’t done my research before I came tonight, I would have spotted the truth right away.” I nod at his left hand. “The tan line, there, and the way you keep rubbing your fingers together to make sure you remembered to take the ring off was the dead giveaway.”
He huffs a nervous laugh. I have nothing, he’s hoping. Other than a theory.
