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Has anyone before?
Besides, it’s been six months. And I’m wearing a different shade of lipstick, and I’ve dyed my hair since then. He has no idea who I am. But I know who he is, and that means I’ve got the upper hand in this conversation.
After taking just enough responsibility for the very, ah, explosive end of the Speare family to be praised by the media for his decisiveness, the new Sheriff’s office has been pretty quiet. Too quiet, honestly.
I know my brother is keeping an eye on Derrick when he can spare one, but lately he’s been completely sidetracked: by his wedding, by arranging the estate so it can run itself while he and Clara are on their honeymoon, by hunting down the gangs that have sprung up in the wake of Morgan Speare’s death, etc., etc.
So what if… I kept my eyes on Derrick instead? I do have two functional and very bored ones at my disposal, after all. And Derrick is pretty damn easy on them- lying, gutless slug that he is.
Without missing a single beat, I mirror his confusion- but in a fun, sexy way. “I think I’d remember a face like yours,” I say, resting my elbow on the counter. “So probably not.”
Derrick laughs. I know it’s fake because I laugh that way all the time. “Was that a compliment?”
Oh please, pretending not to know he was gifted to mankind by God Himself? I’m saved from rolling my eyes and giving myself away by the arrival of my drink, but once I have it in hand I look back to him. “Why? Are you looking for one?”
Derrick laughs again, and this time he actually sounds a little startled. “You caught me,” he admits. “I’ve been searching high and low.”
“Well sorry, but I’m fresh out,” I say, with a flash of my dimple.
“If I take a number, will you let me know when you’ve got a fresh batch?”
Oh my god, Derrick Lindman is trying to pick me up.
An idea, an insane idea, an idea more insane than setting my own house on fire to take out my best friend, unfolds in my mind.
I laugh, as fakely as he did. “It doesn’t work like that. If you take my number, how am I supposed to call you?”
“Well, I never take without giving,” he says, lowering his gaze then looking up at me through his eyelashes.
This is going to be so. Fucking. Easy.
“What’s your name?” Derrick asks, leaning his own elbow on the counter to mirror my pose.
“Raleigh,” I say, before I can think better of it. “You?”
“Derrick,” he says, and I’m actually surprised he doesn’t give his full name and hand me a business card.
“Derrick,” I repeat, careful with the way I shape my lips around his name. He notices, and there’s just the hint of a spark of something in his eyes.
Oh, this is going to be so much better than having sex for the first time. It might just be the best game I play in my entire life.
And, if I play it well enough, maybe it’ll make up for what a bitch I am, to Tommy, to Clara, to everyone.
I am going to ruin Derrick Lindman’s life. Because I’m a mafia girl, and this man betrayed my family, and now… He has no idea what’s coming.
